Archive for January, 2017

19
Jan
17

Inauguration Day


eagle

 

Now that the `Day’ is near upon us, I thought it appropriate to repost this poem that speaks to what the day, for the future will foster:

Submission

Promises of a leadership empowers a corrosive way;
Mouths being muted, blinded by fortunes enticement pay;
Desperate, feuding factions lost to impede this destructive play;
Rendering History’s sufferance gains, dissolve on inauguration day.

Forward, backward, the future path direction led to follow;
Growth toward prosperity sounding more vague and hollow
Yet, anguish and disparity by force left to swallow;
Awakening a new-old world of tomorrows in darkness to wallow.

Minds given to rise-up find futile exercise to opposition
Purchasing summary execution or worse, rendition;
The obvious goal is to obliterate hope of any remedial condition;
Leadership objective: permanent and universal submission.

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05
Jan
17

When?


 

clock

When?

The beauty of Moon’s brilliant light reflecting on the still water of the harbor cove betrays the anguish felt deep inside as I sit gazing upward at the dark night sky filled to abundance with the flickering light of constellation’s stars.

Absorbed by the wonderment of nature’s paint I seek to find answers to questions’ manifest, reasons for humanity’s self-inflicted pain, dispensed with the hypocrisy of remorse.

The defilement of life’s abundant values given without price; expended as though worthless: life, taking life.

What virus of evil did mutate into the genetic of humanity to give rise to its indiscriminate ability to espouse hatred by voice and physical action?  An evil so dark as to seemingly expunge the full essence of Love from the spirit soul given to all with birth into a world of unquestioning beauty and abundance to be had.  What wayward action was it that led it to traverse our planet without impediment or impunity to find permanence of residence in all, yet diverse, cultures?

Were an alien intelligence to look upon the dualistic actions of this earth’s inhabitants it would assuredly too, be left to wonder the root cause(s) for this profane condition.  Like a child spoiled to indifference to the riches unquestioningly given it without want for reciprocation but to appreciate the inherent value of its worth and, to cherish the opportunity for its giving.

How long can this insidious profanity be allowed to continue without an ultimate price to be paid, to render a final solution that will fully purge the disease sickness that holds to the genetic roots of humanity and its progeny of generations to come? To allow the full goodness of the Soul’s spirit of love that freely resides in all at birth, to flourish and expand in the course of life’s given journey before entering the next realm of energy’s domain.

 When?

02
Jan
17

What A Mess


eagle

Reviewing my library of poems written over the past several years it is astonishing how they unequivocally relate to our current times. The irony, I would presume, lies in the knowledge that the poem was written reflecting upon issues of the time; 2009 to be exact, yet readily still apply to conditions unfolding today. Thus giving credence to the conclusion offered at the end of this poem. 

What A Mess

Have I finally succumb?  After years of exploring, investigating, researching, what ever you want to call it, of all things political, religious, sociological, economic, scientific, metaphysical, paranormal, etc, etc, I have come to a conclusion: WE ARE FUCKED!

Since time began humanity has been on the climatic path to a calamitous end it has long anticipated yet has been cultivated to lack the innate intelligence to fully recognize its presence when it inevitably stares them in the proverbial face.

A proliferation of differing perspectives on everything from the origins of our presence on this planet to the question of whether our reality is, in fact, REAL!  And a more pervasive confluence of idea relates to the prospects of our future, continued existence.

A distracting spectrum of opinions as to our future existence has developed incorporating ideas ranging from annihilation due to planetary bodies colliding with Earth in 2012 to global pandemics brought on by drug-resistant strains of bacteria to succumbing to dominance by interstellar beings with mind controlling powers.

Now to complicate the stress all these uncertainties are inflicting upon humanity there is the looming doom, the gloom, and foreboding of a global financial crisis to which a significant part of the industrialized world’s population has no idea of how to survive.  The cultivated dependence on a collapsing infrastructure of social safety nets and social support systems will only lead to further chaos and strife.

The advent of the Internet has spawned a myriad of rationalization of truth to causes and effect and the avocation to their solution for survival against the countless sources to the demise of humanity and modern civilization as have developed to date, only adds to the confusion and chaos that is permeating the world

The conditions are ripe for self proclaimed guru’s, prophets and other like-minded personalities to advocate their solution(s) to these real and perceived problems to rise up to take advantage of the thousands of souls that have been coddled in the delusion of being `cared for’ or the belief – faith in divinity that will conquer all man-made hardship.

Frankly, were there to exist a RESTART BUTTON that would absolve this planet of this corrupt humanity that has evolved upon it – NOW would be the time for that BIG FINGER in the sky to just PUSH IT!

02
Jan
17

Etched To The Bone


 

WSH_SM4C

Surprising, this poem, written back in 2008, finds a fitting place reflecting the current day’s experience; the unfolding of events that speak to a darker time that, potentially, lies ahead for all humanity and its implication for generations that are yet to follow:

Etched To The Bone

My mind spins

From the chaos echoing

From the choir

Disaster of faith

In the fabric of mankind

Can the deluge

Grow even higher?

 

When will it stop?

When will the end begin?

The pain that I am feeling

Is in need of a pill that can win.

 

Factions in every corner

Spewing the ill

Of the coming way

Offering nothing in return

But explaining

How we will righteously pay

 

Bleed for the children

For they know not

What it is

Tomorrow’s growing darkness

Is the inheritance to be given?

What in the morning

Will they say?

 

Oh what sadness

Is being etched into the bone

For generations to come

This ailing condition

Will call it: home!




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