Archive for October, 2016



03
Oct
16

Wasted


tash can

Sitting here, alone, in my sparsely furnished two-by-four room, scratching my life-affirming sentient mind in feeble attempt to conjure a unique, though provoking line of expression that would merit expansion beyond a simple page; significant to the pulse of the day as to garner the increasingly precious idle moments of perspective readers knowing full-well the level of competition imposed by like-minded, sentient scribes, equally motivated to infuse their seemingly unique style upon the world stage of celebrated authors past, present and future; yet knowing full well the potential of such, rivals the ability to fly unheeded by the force thrust of rocket engines or the simple adjunct of the wind propelling propeller attached to the top of a benny-cap of old; now imposes a sense of dread spawned by the true knowing that achieving such a lofty goal, as levelled within this introductory text, stands increasingly less probability to materialize as to render any further energy of mind transformed into words; wasted.

02
Oct
16

Perceived Truths


clock

Perpetuated traditions and beliefs can close a mind
To more fruitful alternative out there to seek, find;
The threat is to make the thinking mind blind,
Thwarting real, substantive advancement for Humankind.

Futures are founded upon much-antiquated thought,
Historical records illustrate from this, hardship is often bought;
Wars, famine and ultimate death of many are the results got;
Are these the outcomes for Human advancement sought?

When will humanity finally understand, learn
Ill-gotten wisdom is best to ignore and spurn?
If the desire for goodness for all humanity to yearn;
Maybe its time from some perceived `truths’ to forever turn.

01
Oct
16

Jeffery’s Story Tale


beuatybw

The scene opens in a small, bi-gay sex bar.

A very good looking young male in his late twenties is sitting at a small cocktail table surrounded by an equally good-looking and hip group of young men and women

Enters John; a good looking and in shape late forties male, joins the small group intent on listening to the young man tell a story. A story centered on the escapades of a former lover who, using his unusual and incredibly good looks, was able to charm the pants off any daddy. But Jeffery, the name of the young man in question, did not waste his talents on just any ol’ daddy. The boy had a sixth sense when it came to smelling out the rich ones. `I swear’, exclaimed the young man profoundly; `Jeffery, that little bastard, could walk through a crowd of potential daddies and, not only filter out the richest of them but, the hottest looking too.’ . Thus concluding this part of his story, he turns his attention gaze to John.

Not loosing a blink, the young man locks eyes with John; he continues his tale that for some unknown reason, seemingly hypnotically, entrances John’s attention. John becomes spell bound by the twist and turns of young man’s captivating story.

`The last time I saw Jeffery was right here in this bar. Unfortunately though, he met with a rather bad end but, however, not quite as unfortunate as it was for the lover he met that night.’ He concludes as he seductively leans forward, closer to John’s now, wide-eyed face.

Fully intrigued and captivated, John demands to know more of `this Jeffery’s’ escapade and how it all turned out. To which the young man offered to tell more but, only if John were to buy him a fresh drink and in the privacy of one of the secluded booths to the back of the bar.

Comfortably ensconced in the secluded booth with a fresh gin martini in hand, the young man picks up on the tale of young Jeffery’s seedy escapade: `It all started rather innocently. Jeffery, in his usual captivating way, was unleashing one of his unfathomable tales of romp and drug infused sexcapades to a group of his friends when he encountered Harold. To show how lucky Jeffery was, horse shoes I tell yah, anyway, there could have been countless other wealthy people in the bar that night and low and behold, doesn’t he land Harold. Harold Bartholomew the already famous attorney who too, was the sole heir to his family’s amassed fortunes. Not millions but billions!

The waiter momentarily interrupts the young man’s story telling by serving up a bottle of expensive red wine with two glasses John had ordered, `Harold was instantly enamored by Jeffery. Who wouldn’t be, he was absolutely beautiful. Starting with his blonde, wavy head of hair that had all the signs of exclusive salons and his radiant, hot Mediterranean-tan skin purchased by his most recent rich lover, could melt butter never mind your heart.

Fully entrance and captivated by the young man’s story-telling, he and John spent the rest of the evening together. After finishing another bottle of expensive wine, John could not hold back and asked the young man, whose name up to that moment he didn’t even know, inviting him back to his private penthouse suite.

It wasn’t until the two had made their way to John’s suite atop of Trump Tower, the most expensive piece of real-estate in all of Manhattan, lying naked in the luxurious, king-size bed replete with Egyptian cotton sheets, sipping champagne glasses of Dom Perignon did John thing to ask the name of the young man with whom he had just had wild passionate sex.

`Who me?’ the young man replied casually, `You’re obviously a smart man, I thought you would have figured that out by now, it’s Jeffery. Is that a surprise?’ he concluded coyly as he watched John confoundedly fall back in utter shock and surprise.

Not saying another word, John ceremoniously pours the last of the Dom Perignon into Jeffery’s half empty fluted crystal glass acknowledging his naive stupidity.

The End

01
Oct
16

The Blame


flag

This poem was written a while back, however, given the recent expansionist mindset of the current Canadian government to give approval to the installation of a liquid natural gas terminal on the pristine coastal waters of British Columbia recently; it demands a revisit to consider the possible detrimental, future outcome of such an environmentally impacting decision. 

Myopic is the global, political mindset,
It yields the greatest electoral return,
Foregoing the interest of the unborn children,
Yields fossil fuels legislated to pollute, opposition to spurn.

Jobs, jobs, and more jobs
The rationale to explain and excuse
The destruction of earthly resources;
Health and welfare of the many to be abused.

Fracking, pipelines nomenclature of the day,
Hyped as essential for the economy to survive.
Forests and fresh water are resources to be given up for the cause;
Deemed unessential for humanity to flourish and thrive.

The powers that be hold all the relevant cards,
The balance of power rests in their hand.
To reverse the current destructive, global path;
The powerless together, must unite and band.

Populace, street demonstrations are impudent to needed change;
A more powerful, permanent message may be needed, enforced.
A global, collective opposition to those whom self-serving, rule;
A tangible, visible sign of change that all humanity can endorse.

Violence, loss of property and life is not the wanted course
Yet they who hold the power for conditions to be sustained;
Continue to ignore the plight and demands of the many,
Whatever the outcome, responsibility, to them, the blame, remains.

01
Oct
16

Who Gives A `Fuck’ Anymore?


 

 

GREED

A space meandering, life-giving, ball of configured atomic-elements, mysteriously infused with conscious-energy, though equally shared amongst its inhabitants; its degrees of intellectualized representation is definable and, disturbingly, evident. This epoch’s current recorded history serves as source-proof to this expression.

The world seems targeted toward a destiny that belies even the bravest of us to stand against; the prodigious, globalist tyranny that emblazons this 21st-century existence. The fomentation of those who came before us in the belief; the foresight to the future of human-kind is theirs to behold. But, times committed passage finds the antithesis; contemporary humanity, succumbing to a malaise surpassing the vilest, cruellest, deadliest of viral bacterium: Greed!

Throughout the earthly organism that is humanity; greed for ownership, translated to the power of position, spreads like metastasizing cancer. Inflicting its sufferance upon the majority who strategically, have been economically brutalized into a permanent state of subjugation and, submission. A pervasive state; maliciously designed to lobotomize intellectual conjuring or real manifestation, in any form, of countering forces. The ingenious tools to do so include mindless, distracting entertainment genres, legislated civil obedience replete with brutal, armed-enforcement and, penalty-mechanisms and, last but not least; the anchoring shackles of relentless, financial indebtedness.

Dire, though this time as is depicted; it need not be the reason to lament the future for humankind. Intrinsic to the nature of all living entities is the relentless facet of being: survival. The intuitive mental and physical strength to overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles; like the Phoenix, to rise from the ashes, triumphant and determinately driven to reaffirm its presence.

The question remains for humanity: can it do so without repeating the ills of its historic past, or,  to ask itself: `Who gives a ‘Fuck’ any more?’?




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