Posts Tagged ‘writing



18
Dec
13

Something?


question

It’s been quite cold and windy for several days
So indoors is where I’ve tended to stay
To pass the idle hours with lack of things to play
I’ve taken to write, to have my say
So with nothing standing in my way
These thoughts I wish to convey:

The world has become a convoluted place
Six billion plus souls comprised of many a race
Let’s not forget, and of every kind of faith
Both source to acts of human evil and disgrace

Turmoil and chaos seem incessant and growing
Instant communications has everyone knowing
That money and blood are things most flowing
And backward seems progress is truly going

Fiat currencies seem to have met their match
Ponsi schemes to wealth are becoming unlatched
Thieving bankers getting richer and unable to catch
Well the common man runs out of `scratch’

Technology the scourge of automated wars
Politicians and lobbyists obliging whores
Consumerism still the ultimate lure
Global bankruptcy might become the final cure

Progress’ pollution disputed as foul weather’s cause
Yet it continues despite enforcement of countless laws
The question to be asked: what will be the last straw?
To show humanity it is the cause, the flaw!

Sorrowful is this bit of verbal tripe
Of how I’ve come to view this dire, modern life
It is not spoken out of any kind of spite
It is to wish for something to make it right.

 

Go back

Your message has been sent

Warning
Warning
Warning
Warning

Warning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

18
Dec
13

Things To Come


crystal ball

Upon reflection of the words that I have written
I can admit that I have been smitten
By the need to express my view
To communicate a message to all and you

I know they are common words, simple at times
And they annoyingly seem to rhyme
But that should not dismiss the message
The vestige – Of things to come

Go back

Your message has been sent

Warning
Warning
Warning
Warning

Warning.

I hold many secrets within my self
Many that could render extreme wealth
Yet I do not hold to these material things
For it is not joy of life they bring

The Earth revolves with unending vigour
Its meaning in space is for its inhabitants to figure
But not to be dismissed as routine of presence
But to question its perceived infinite significance.

I channel this wisdom from unknown place
Unknown too is why I am so graced
I leave the reason for others to contrive
Knowing it will continue as long as I am alive

Others my find my spelling hard to heed
Best they will or assuredly bleed
The blood that fuels mankind
Ground soaked will be left behind

There exists a destiny of less dismay
Will humanity give it chance to play?
Present greed of power, anger and hate
Leaves little to debate

Hindsight is often the test
Differentiating speculation from the rest
My virtue of mind and wrote
Is mine before death to gloat?

09
Nov
13

Humble Request


 

confessional

 

The patterns on the wall conjure the images of which I am frightened. Images that speak to an inner desire, a lust for the unspoken that possess my mind. A desire to abandon to the compulsion to immerse myself fully, to be enveloped as a cocooned caterpillar only to be set free in the end, to fly freely with the beauty of the butterfly to be.

A wanton wish as yet unfulfilled but lurking ever so near the surface after years of encasement of self imposed limits set to meet the wants of others dominant in their ability to impose sanctions fraught with hardship for the unyielding. Hardships that surpass the throng of desire rewarded by noncompliance to their wish, an imbalance masterfully concocted to suppress such thought of escape.

Even now as I expel for need of relief these thoughts do I fear the punishment to be brutally spent upon my being for this foray of expression would it be learned of its existence. The masters that are, are unrelenting in their ability to distill from the camouflage of innocent rhetoric the latent message of desire buried without marker to the uninitiated. Many before me have met with such end for less than that of mine ensuring a rending of fate beyond the pale was it known to be.

So humbly I lay prone before you seeking compassion for the prejudiced imprisonment of my desires by those without remorse for their sins. Of what service you can afford me is not mine to parlay but to seek within the sanctum of your heart a prayer of goodness to diminish the sufferance that is that of others like me.

09
Nov
13

Thwarted Dream


tash can

Whom am I, thought to composed word
Directed by the etheric-plane, the absurd-ity
That is this self-deluded presence powerful
In authorship to meaning created for voices’ sound
One of seven-billion more so spoken, some profound
Toward literary importance of acknowledged
Rhetorical scheme of institutionalized definition
Segregated and apart from the true essence of word
Articulated in form of meaningless meaning
To be presented into consciousness; merits attention
But, is oft discarded to the trash-can of thwarted dreams

 

20
Aug
13

Abstraction Red


abstraction red
Unconscious to consciousness fed
Crimson the paint-brush bled
Occupying willing canvas bed
Expressing emotions thought dead
Giving rise to what is not said
Left to discovery what’s to be read
To the artist; merely, chance to shed

20
Aug
13

Refugee


refugee

Stealth through the darkness of a moonless night,
They stole their way by shrouded candle light,
Not knowing if another would see their flight,
Desperate to escape the suffering by their war-trodden plight.

Time and again the still quietness of the late night hour
Is broken by the muted thunder of advancing military power;
Each cannon-boom causing all to instinctively cower,
Wanting only for their freedom to eventually flower.

Long has been their suffering under tyranny’s rule
By dictatorial oppression meant to be harsh and cruel;
Propagandized from the moment they entered school
But, for these refugees, no longer wanting to be played the fool.

The path to freedom’s gate is arduous and dreadfully long;
Emboldened, all seemed more determined and quietly strong,
Marching silent, forward, toward peace and harmony’s throng,
Knowing deep within, this is where life-lived does belong.

14
Aug
13

Global Treason


abyss

Calamitous, tumultuous, turbulent chaos,
Words to define the present state of the World;
Everywhere one’s attention does cross,
What was once Order seems be coming unfurled.

Though the problems may vary, as do their cause,
There seems but one common, all important reason:
Major nation’s institutions flagrantly breaking international laws;
A crime some might define as Global treason

Whether judicial, legislative or global finance,
Morality and jurisprudence willfully dismissed;
The élite, whom are in control, succumbing to greed’s evil trance;
Sinking humanity by their undoing, into an ever darkening abyss.

26
Jun
13

Discernment


thought

It is truly a gift given

To render to written word

Thoughts held by the Mind;

For those whom give consideration

And, to their Mind, now to reside.

 

No favor of truth to wisdom

Is the promise given by these words;

Only that consciousness has been risen

And, choice to their discernment,

By them, others to potentially learn.

29
May
13

Advocates


 gb

Allan Ginsberg’s Howl, William Burroughs’ Naked Lunch and, Paul Goodman a novelist,playwriter and social activist; all advocates and adventurous men of original literary acclaim to the avant-garde, rebels in and of their time, garnering unsolicited reputation for challenging the buttressed and stalwart, civil-conservative institution of literature and civil-society at large; these great, inspirational authors and each provocatures of past little known, unfortunately, by many contemporary authors and public.

The ironic thread that strings these three men in particular, is not limited to their willingness to trash contemporary style, form and theme, the hallmarks of accepted and flourishing literature of their time but, their sexuality.  Both Goodman and Burroughs were bi-sexual and Ginsberg, homosexual.

So what relevance does sexual-orientation have for their works being recognized as profound and revolutionary contributions to the literary realm given at times, the shocking crudeness and vulgarity of language describing in vile and gutteral detail, perceived deviant sexuality, heroin addiction and smoking of pot expressed in wildly random, convoluted style and form contrary to the conservative and conventional literary publications in and of their time?

Though to a considerably lesser extent today given current human and equal-rights legislative reforms; during the life-time of these men homosexuals and bisexual were heavily persecuted, deemed tarnished reprobate, sick people and legally classified as mentally ill and, subject to arrest if caught or reported performing sexual acts with other men often relegated to secrecy and  cover of darkness.

It is no wonder given the harshness of the social environment imposed on these men and others of their era,  would resort to free-form expression to expunge the hatred and hostility they all were grudgingly obliged to endure.

22
Apr
13

Earth’s Largess


sunrise

Morning Sun rises to horizon’s shining glory

Golden rays energy to imbue the day’s story

Full essence of nature composes the coming day

Life for love’s fulfillment makes its ubiquitous play

Earthly bounty given for all to imbibe, to enjoy

Cornucopia of texture, color and sounds to employ

Calming tranquility of crystal-water brooks

Source to feed human senses beyond that spoken in books

Easily is lost awareness to what nature freely brings

Lush flora, fauna, animal cries that sing

Faith given to coldness of technology, running away from the rest

Modern-man has grown to ignore Earth’s largess.




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