Archive for the 'Poetry Prose' Category



02
Feb
15

This Ancient Cabal Exposed


cabal

As the curtain rises to the second decade of this 21st century play,
Self-appointed actors to an ancient cabal, in want for their position to stay,
Perform scripted roles penned to climax in a whirlwind of chaos’ confusion;
Enthralling humanity, a gullible audience, to applaud infusion of contrived delusion.

Insipid yet insidious are the maneuverings of the elevated few;
Spawned from ancestral prophecy, of ancient hope, to future’s due.
To stir up in the belly of the common man, a militarist fervor;
Sparking a patriotic flame, the call to be the nation’s preserver.

The seeds to disparity were sown in the fertile minds of early men;
Lost to certainty of reason, though desperate for want to defend.
Succumbing to subterfuge of wisdom professed by those of devious goal;
To devalue natural born intuition, relegating it to folly, a fallow field to sow.

As repugnant and cynical this worldview held, may be to others;
This truth herein spoken lies evident, exposed, without faintness of cover.
Though it is to eyes open and, with mind not yet diluted or constrained;
To know the seeds of disparity meant to divide, giving rise to battle, is for powers of the wealthy to be sustained.

Praise of common goodness over evil is demanded for global humanity to survive,
To shed the devious propagandist notion of what it means to be truly alive;
By challenging this unscrupulous cabal, to redeem future generation’s salvation;
Once and forever, delivering the evil-doers to realm of permanent damnation.

02
Feb
15

Blind Suffering


wings

Wings to flight struggle against the weight of self-imposed gravity that binds me to this earthly plain that constricts freedom imagined beyond the borders of consciousness, in futile attempt to mitigate the emotional bleeding hemorrhaging beneath my skin, invisible to the eyes that seek understanding of perceived condition externalized without words spoken.

14
Jan
15

adult content: MASTURBATION!


mastur

Delving spontaneously into the salacious, deviant world that is Internet porn; an arena founded for pursuit of singular or mutual gratification garnered by viewing unspeakable acts of debauchery, specifically scripted and performed by nameless people motivated toward personal financial gain with the promise to heighten the pluralistic, wanton sexual desires of a viewing audience seeking to orgasmically extinguish uncontrollable urges derived by expulsion of purposeful bodily fluids by means of self-inflicted punishment imposed upon gender defining organs; a private, personal act craftily, discernibly labelled:

MASTURBATION! 

08
Jan
15

Memories Pleasure


Michael Illing2

With mixed emotions I view a photo from the past
That tells the story of a love deep, yet did not last;
Only with time passing to weigh the full cost
Does one fully realize, the value lost;
So rare are opportunity to find love true,
With one whom shares equally with you;
Precious are these memories left to treasure
Yet, they garner a mixed sense of pleasure.

27
Dec
14

Unbridled Permission


Stricken by intrusion of illness’ gain,
Stoic to the suffering, enduring the pain;
Strident by its presence, yet not to complain.

Harsh reality for many forced to endure,
Waiting patiently, for science to find cure;
A time given for emotions to rile pure.

External to this challenged imposition,
Observances at times, want for revision;
To give the afflicted, unbridled permission.

27
Dec
14

Compositions’ Reality


composition

11
Dec
14

Police Out of Control????


police

05
Nov
14

Fisherman’s Calling


 

Fisherman:

Inquisitively philosophical
Or
Exquisitely numb
Choose the former or the latter
To choose the latter,
Is the ideal one?

For to be numb to all matter
Is to avoid any mental pain
To be One without the Chatter
Is to be One who is born again

Mark 1:17: “Come after Me, and I will make you become fishers of men.”
 

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05
Nov
14

Poetry


 

 

The art of poetry is to conjure thoughts profound
At times achieved by merely the use of just one word
But in the end it’s to its readers to astound
Or to render it all – utterly absurd

Poetry may be reflective or devil-may-care
But for certain it comes from a mind aware
The tool of its conveyance need not be exact
For it is the essence of message that be sought – to extract

Hence, should one encounter a poem or two
Be certain, this to do:

             Enter with an open mind
               Read with nay a pre-intent
                     Look within its words to find
                           Its essence – its chance to invent

05
Nov
14

A Fish Named `Dawn’


 

 

DAWN

Falling into a swamp I forgot was there
My eyes could see, but neither mouth nor nose could breathe for air
As my skin turned blue, my mind grew increasingly faint
Next I knew, I was in a place standing next to a glowing saint

He extended a hand as in a gesture to greet
Strange thing was I was now, standing on my own two feet
Bewildered and perplexed by, in what place I was
His comforting smiling face wordlessly said, `Don’t give it a fuss’

Calmly, still hand in hand, we walked
Though nothing was said, he began to talk
He spoke of this place, this land made by the gods
It was purposely intended for unabashed sods

It was the simple mention of this class of soul
I knew my life had succumb to its ultimate toll
Surprisingly enough I felt much at ease
Especially at the mention, I could have anything I please

As we wondered through hill and dale
My saintly friend continued his telepathic tale
My mind grew full, with what he had to say
And funny thing was, I seem to know it all anyway

We finally arrived at a sweet town that appeared quaint
Flowers seemed to sing and the buildings of rainbow paint
Many people cheerfully frolicked about the street
Gracefully bowing when we had chance to meet

Then in a flash I realized my guardian saint was gone
And there in his place was a man introduced as `Dawn
I asked Dawn, `what is this place?’
To which he replied, `It was my mental space’.

This perplexing response to what I had asked
Put my brain in a boil with this deciphering task
It was then I began to realize what he meant
This was all my imagination – a mind’s invent

So, if it were that this was all in my mind’s creation
I likely could not have left my original situation
Having the sense that I had resolved this unusual puzzle
A strange floating fish appeared and with my nose, began to snuggle

Not wanting for this slimy creature to be sitting on my face
With hands flailing in the air I gave it chase
Then with a flash I suddenly realized
The enchanted place was gone and the water swamp lay open to my eyes

My mind regaining hold of what was in fact now real
My hands though chilled, something at them, I could feel
And there it was I saw, a trout of proportionate size
Starring back up at me with seemingly, knowing eyes

Abruptly sitting up feeling all wet and damped to the bone
My floating friend did not faultier nor want to leave me alone
My mind still foggy by what had just transpired
When the sun reflected on my speckled friend, I couldn’t help but admire

For through the translucent waters I was uncertain if to believe
Whether my eyes were still affecting what I could see
Especially after all that appeared to have gone on
There before me was a fish upon whose flesh appeared to be written: `Dawn

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