Archive for the 'poetry' Category

30
Sep
18

Catastrophic Finality?


DEM

 

There was a time one could write of the failing world condition,

Speak clearly to the issues that give rise to fear and division,

To recognize the societal elements eroding into submission,

But, alas, time now seems beyond words to make corrective revision.

 

The reality is; political ineptitude is given undeniable power,

Pervasive media is filled with murder and hate to make one cower,

Filth of selfish greed reigns down like a golden-piss shower,

Nationalistic tribalism, once constrained, now let to flower.

 

This new millennium, since the days of its early start,

Tainted by the powder-keg lit by a terrorist spark,

Submerging all into a history growing increasingly dark,

Now two-decades in, convinced, it’s not to be a passing lark.

 

Not surprising, Hollywood films seem reflective precursors to a reality;

Conveying plausible reason not to ignore their story’s seeming banality

As often, the protagonist, confronted by a choice of a brutal-end totality,

In the end, misguidedly lures away from a truth of impending, catastrophic finality.

 

 

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29
Sep
18

To a life borne


 

 

proclivity

Here I am found behind locked door

To a life I swore to be no more

But, what has been gained, is lost

It is to moments of life, the cost

Hidden by the shadow of what was

For no reason, just because

Movement of time has given to dictate

What will be, not given, but to take

Forlorn is the cause de jour

Not to be exposed, but demurred

Reason for last chance to find remedy

To a life borne to hardship and calamity

29
Sep
18

True Peace: a poem


true peace

08
Nov
17

Requiem of Spirit


a requium

 Requiem of Spirit

Insignificant are these words that fill this page fore they render nothing more than a stain. Stain markings as feelings, thoughts, ideas of less importance, impact upon the direction, course evolution takes toward an end. Contrivance of communication subject to seeing by blind eyes, being heard through deaf ears, never to be spoken. The encumbrance of thought compiled line by line, expelled to satisfy each moment toward their meaningless, meaning or purpose. Collected, bound, volumes comprehensively fomenting artificiality of presence recognized, though invisible, amidst the masses of trite representation to the same. Succumbing to be buried, lost to chance to be forgotten, dormant upon the ageless shelf of lessor importance. Energy expended without reward of return, fading to darkness: The End.

 This Requiem of Spirit: Creative Mind, lost of its meaning to gain furtherance to expression brought to the Conscious that grave for its experience be brought, by reading minds’ imagination. Allowing for the Ether, Heart of Soul, be brought tangibly to Life, through the senses expunging, from each taste, stain of Word: What it is to BE!

 

 

 

26
Feb
17

Empathy: defined?


Image result for empathy

 

Recent developments of a family nature have exposed me to a foreign experience, until now: the depth of hostility expressed and anxiety imposed upon an ailing, dying Father by his only and seemingly heartless Son.

What has materialized from this experience is clarity, from my perspective, of the true meaning of Empathy.

Empathy: what the non-suffering need feel for the suffering.

In the broader scope of human experience: it is the sufferance of the suffering for the non-suffering to suffer to realize the true meaning of Empathy.

 

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

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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