King Vlad is anything but Democracy’s man of the hour.
Rather, à coup sûr, he’s really Stalin’s nasty little boy
who ironically parades "svoboda" and "glasnost" like
he really means them—actually he means them not.
King Vlad’s political traditions and pronouncements
are well-known among those who are sadly aware
of his tapestry of treachery and deceit—oh so slovenly woven
for all to see, just like some of his fellow-gangster favorites:
Lenin, Stalin, Beria, Molotov, Brezhnev, and Andropov.
King Vlad is anything but a real world leader . . .
His "Kind" are an open book for all to see and understand
what they are and what they mean for all who strive
for openness, decency, and real compassion in the
twenty-first century world order.
King Vlad—just like his Dracula name sake,
is a man without a soul, without a conscience,
who shall never shudder, wince or cry
at the piercing death rattle of a Kalashnikov.
King Vlad is truly no friend of Democracy,
sounding even at times not unlike Hitler;
he’s a demon leader with innocent blood on his hands,
always quick with the old Soviet reply:
Lie . . . Deny . . . Accuse . . . Reject . . . Criticize . . .
all tools of this redoubtable master of prevarication.
King Vlad should know that the Heavenly Souls
of flight MH17 know the "bitter truth," gorkaya pravda,
surrounding his lies, treachery, and deceit—all pejorative
attributes to a man with the mask of a real monster who
had the very best Soviet teachers.
And so Generalissimo Stalin . . .
How do you like your nasty little boy now???
He’s right up your alley, right???
“Putin” has five letters just like “Devil.”
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (August 9, 2014)
I do not know?
Some love too little, some love too long,
some they answer the riddle but fail to move on
some laugh and others cry
when truest feelings have been denied
Some do the act with a show of tears,
surrendering everything showing their fears
And some without a sigh;
they just let their pride die
For some men kill the things they love,
power given from up above
Yet each man does deny.
power from heaven they devise
Some kill love when in their youth,
some kill with abuse
And some when they grow old;
in the end the scam unfolds
Some smother with the hand of greed,
turning away from the hand of need
Because of lust for gold;
the way of love had turned old
The evil use their tongue because,
of vengence to discover
It takes love where it’s cold
and evil thought it mutters
But men who kill the girl they love,
and claim a passion from heaven above
have a story to be heard;
lets not listen to one word
Some do it with a callous look
with a wisdom from the good book
Some with a bitter word;
and with some with passion never heard,
The tyrant does it with his fist,
and serial killer with his list
The weak man with a sword.
a genious that was bored
(A collaboration by Elizabeth Wesley and John H Loving III)
A smile so achingly perfection
Only hiding evil buried deep inside
Emptiness and destruction is all you leave behind
Your love consumes me, burns me from within
Leaving only darkness, where there once was light.
Now I’m just a shell, no not even that
More a memory of the me that disappeared
As you caressed me with your deadly touch
Your love it consumed me, burned me from within
Hidden scars eternal, a reminder of your deceptive evil
How is it you still consume me when there’s nothing left to take
Only a hollow void where there once was life
Yet you’re an obsession I just can’t let go
Even as I turn to leave, we know it’s not the end
Only a matter of time, until I’m back again.
Shall I compare thee to a most foul stench?
A skunk’s sweet-smelling aura more lovely
Than that ugly face which makes my fists clench.
Pray you leave; that we should be so lucky!
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is your pale complexion broiled,
To peeling, pasty, unnat’ral pink lines,
Reminiscent of a red lobster, oiled.
But soon, sweet sleaze-ball, thine sunburn shall fade
And leave in its wake, that china-fair skin,
Which glitters bright e’en in afternoon shade;
So strange I suspect you are but pure sin.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives my complete hatred for thee.
Take your knife
Carne con sangre
On sale here
Cut me up
Slice me dice me
Taste my sour blood
Savor the flavor
Revenge is on sale
Bitter and sweet all for you
Bile flows through me
Thinking of your hate
You may have butchered me
Slaughtered to rot at high time noon
I have a revelation for you
I love gardens and flowers
I now am one with them
As I feed them, and bring beauty
To those who quench the thirst of love
I kiss the sun and laugh at you
This expanse of land has seen things.
Things all of us can only see in dreams.
It's seen war, it's gotten it's fair share of scars.
Bombs bursting, bullets throwing sand into the air like it's a volleyball tournament.
The sand running red with blood silently mocking our arteries.
This magnificent stretch of land has seen heroes' tears fall; dropping to their knees while sadness envelopes their fallen brothers but also looking up to their beloved whilst carrying a ring in their hand.
It's seen bright days, the sun glimmering over wet sand, footprints of past loves being washed away as the sun smacks the horizon.
This expanse of land...has seen things we can only imagine.
A Very Inviting Temptation!
I remember of a particular situation.
I was offered a very "inviting" temptation.
The situation I was in... I didn't belong!
And lost any sense of "right and wrong."
At first... I felt no guilt or shame.
And brought embarrassment
to my family's name.
I tried to explain this to my wife and kids.
I heard; "Dad... please... no more fibs!"
The Godly principles were "tossed to the side,"
As the sin inside caused arrogance and pride.
Soon, all in my life that truly mattered...
Was gone! My life was empty and shattered!
I was sorry for all of the problems I caused!
This time... I took a moment to pause.
I cried to God to rescue me from my sin.
I confessed! Would God help me once again?
I read in the Bible of Jesus’ grace and love!
This time the help I needed had to come from above!
I asked him for a fresh and brand new start.
He removed the stain from a broken heart.
He restored to me the joy I once had.
I'm so blessed! Jesus has made me glad!
Jesus is the reason I'm here today!
I LOVE HIM more than words can say!
By Jim Pemberton
A single kiss from thy lovely lips,
so sweet and so divine,
yet I taste posion upon your tongue.
Your beauty so glorious,
like a blooming rose so beautiful,
yet, why do mine eyes go blind
in the sight that you walk along with another?
Yes you, walk with another,
arm under arm,
lips touching lips in romantic kisses,
it makes my blood boil,
for mine lips are dry.
For mine eyes have seen your glory,
yet no one here listens to my story.
You are evil, yes you are,
don't try to deny,
Listen to a man of experience,
you might as well save some expense.
I write of our long romantic walks
we took together, under the shade of olive trees,
how we went apple picking in autumn time,
and made love in the foyer.
Nomore of that sweet and passionate love,
nomore silent kisses in the night,
when the wind blows hard against the branches,
that tape violently on my windowpane.
Nomore somber tears shed, when you got sick,
and nomore warm embraces when you shed tears of betrayal.
Betrayal now is a game played by a fool,
such as I,
to think I'd have a happy life with you?
Huh, only a fool would think such a thing,
but now I sit, looking at the foyer,
where we once made sweet, passionate love,
nomore will that foyer be filled with exotic pleasure.
Nomore will you be filled with smiles and exotic pleasure.
I've done my job, as a good man shall do,
now pack your things and get of my stage,
the spotlight yawns for anew,
and the audience grows tired and restless of you.
Now I live life anew,
you too shall see life in new eyes,
walking hand and hand with the blond, blue eyed devil
you call your own.
Shall he take one kiss from your lips,
and die of the posion he tastes on your tongue,
shall he go blind, when he sees your true, black beauty?
He will see the ugly soul, covered up by white rags,
and cheap makeup,
and then he will come to me,
and shake my hand in condolence
and say, "You were right!"
Now you are all alone,
looking for another, as you did many times before,
Now you are alone, walking an open road,
spying on another,
fear of being alone.
Now, you see when you play games with a good man's emotions,
don't try it,
because a good man is not meant to be toyed with.
A Knight from the vast Kingdom
of The King of Holy Throne.
Michael slept within a castle
on beds of peat moss, and of loam.
His face was sedimentary,
though laughter mapped its course.
And his gleaming hair cascaded,
much like a Viking of the Norse.
His raiment wasn’t fancy.
No silk nor satin hose.
But his mind was quick as silver
and his heart was pure as gold.
Cloaked without, by a robe of integrity.
Fortified within, by a will of steel.
He wielded the Sword of Justice,
while holding Truth up as his shield.
Saint Michael’s crusade was legendary,
as was the power of his sword.
Forged to slay the inner dragons,
in reverent service to our Lord.
Countless times the blade was tested,
for malice dwells not on defeat.
Never lacked he for contenders,
disciples of rumors and deceit.
Bad Rumor sowed the seed of doubt
within the mind of man.
Watered from the trough of spite,
he conceived his evil plan.
Each rancid seed that sprouted
grew to a bud of tarnished mail.
Thus, shrouded by corrosion,
he sought corruption to prevail.
When Rumor heard of Saint Michael,
his phosphorous eyes lit up with hate.
Armed with his pitchfork and scythe,
he charged through his hellish gates.
Targeted by dark ambition,
saddled by vicious greed,
he raced upon the clouds fate,
engulfed by jealousy.
Michael felt the evil presence
and strapped on his Mighty Sword.
Then he rode off to a clearing,
in the sweet realm of The Lord.
Rumor attacked with animosity,
his trident held, as if a spear.
But as the Sword of God unsheathed,
Rumor was lanced by sudden fear.
Michael raised the Sword of Eminence
as if to pierce the sky.
While sunlight sparked along its blade
a beam smote Rumor’s eye.
Blazing light seized Rumor’s mind.
It seared his ravaged soul.
And when the inner battle ended,
Rumor’s heart was charred to coal.
As Saint Michael wiped soot and ashes
from the length of his trusted sword,
his eyes fell upon the hilt
to runes inscribed there, by The Lord:
“May The Force be your faith
May your spirit know The Lamb
May Love guard your heart
May The Light guide your hand.”
As the sun sets
and the twilight comes out,
as the birds and squrriels are no where in sight.
As the whores and pimps sit on street corners,
waiting for street lights to turn from green to red.
As cadillacs stop and roll their windows down.
I can her the faint cry deep in the darkness,
of dirty gutters and dark, dead end alleyways,
I hear the faint tears fall and hit concrete pavement.
I feel the faint cries of whores,
I hear the sound of backhand hitting face
and brused tissue and broken noses are everywhere.
And the somber tears fall onto pillow cases,
and white motel bedsheets run red with blood
and cheap Italian wine.
And you can her the poet over the radio,
reading his own work for the one millionth time
and you can hear his soul slowly wanting to die.
He drowns himself in smoke and alcohol
the whore takes her pay, or spends a night in a jail cell,
the pimp nowhere to be found,
with a shiny blade stuck deep in his gut.
And the somber tears fall gently on the concrete pavement,
the floors of a jail cell,
tears on the pillow case and tears on a lonesome stage.
Tears never present, but are seen by many,
pain aches and pain takes away,
and I pour one more drink for the whore.
She takes me away,
and I caught her salty, somber tear,
and she crawled into my warm embrace.
I was the one who stuck the blade in the gut of that pimp,
who broke her nose and made her bleed,
with a cowardess and souless backhand.
I walk into the moonlight,
hearing the somber tears all around me,
crash violently to the concrete pavement.
The Earth rumbles and erupts with these tears,
that are shead for fellow Men, and Women and Children,
but we all look at ourselves and smile.
Happy we don't pay rent,
happy we don't have cancer,
happy we aren't six feet under;
But we still all cry,
Somber tears all fall in one big wave
crashing violently on the concrete pavement.
Now the red light turns green,
and the traffic moves along,
the whore is still at her corner,
the pimp still with the blade in his gut.
Children with an illness,
Go through life,
They are looked down apon,
Because they are different,
When really they are not,
They are no different from you and me,
They have the same blood,
Running through their bodies,
Just as their hearts as well,
So, don't just look apon,
Their outer appearance,
And judge them,
For who they really are,
For a lot of them,
Are smarter and brighter,
Than you and I,
Could possibly be,
On our brightest day,
For they have the gifts,
From God up above,
So, always take the time,
To get to know their inner beauty,
For who they really are,
Cause they too need love,
Just as everyone else does,
If not even more.
Jump up and down like a jackrabbit
running through meadows
running from what?
Could it be heartbreak,
a venemous snake that hides in the grass,
hiding with fangs ready to pierce the tender skin
upon the tight, bronze flesh of everyday life?
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now!
I need a vacation a long way away from the faceless smiles
and ignorance of young girls, who don't look at you,
who don't show you love and respect.
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now,
as jumping spiders hop everywhere, crawling eight legs around me
my soul black like carcoal, but my heart still beating
slower this time, not like the days before
and like the jackrabbit running from anything and everything,
I run to seek love and vanish away from the empty voids
that people call, their souls.
Recording a film with no tape,
talking to a woman you love, but not having the guts to tell her how you really feel
Jump my boy, like a jackrabbit, take my advice
tell her before she leaves
turns down the endless avenues of endless dark love
the trees grow taller, taller than you
and you sit there feeling away yourself die, missing out in life.
I cannot see you lose your love.
Say it, say it, Say it!!! Tell her! Tell her! Build the guts up!
Build up the courage, tell her how you feel. Take her by the hand and never say goodbye! Never say goodnight, stay with her till the flight comes in the morning
of the first rays of sun shine through your dorm room take her and love her!
Do not be like me, the jackrabbit! I see no happiness
Reading poetry it makes me sad,
to write of others falling in love and I never finding the one.
People tell me, you'll find yours, have hope
but I am a frightened little jackrabbit
who flees from sounds of deep emotions, not having courage to fall in love,
not building the guts up to tell her how I really feel.
She walks alone, I find my oppertunity and sing my love song
She smiles and moves on,
please tell me I cannot fight anymore.
All I have to say is Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I need a vacation
to go to some sandy beach on an island of love
and write and write and write, the same poetry that depresses me
but makes you all fall in love with words!
Fiction about love stories, please kiss me
Blue eyed death comes, plays a game of chess with me
I bet twenty, he bets my soul
Kiss me death, the only love I'll ever get,
besides my poet friends who kiss my ass
Listen to my heart, truely, I don't write of beauty
I write for the sorrow soul, the fleeing jackrabbit
running away from love.....
You think you’ve gone just far enough,
I could smile knowing you’ve gone far enough that you can’t go back again
You think you were careful but,
I’ve caught a glimpse of your true, wretched form
You think you can find a way into my good graces
I’ve seen what you are, monsters with a friendly costume
You can’t deceive me anymore and, I don’t consort with serpents
You think I’m a game to be played but, trust me, you could never win
Don’t underestimate me
You think I’m a joke but, trust me you won’t be laughing
You think I’m just talking myself up but, trust me, you’re the ones going down
My eyes took too long to adjust
Better late than never
It may take a monster to know one but, I promise my teeth are sharper than yours
My first reaction to the hideous revelation that was your form was to weep
Fall to my knees, maybe even wretch my heart from my chest and onto the carpet
Then I thought about the mess it would make
I decided the only blood that will spill, will be your own
I was not weak, but I had a weakness
A heart of soft gold stitched to my sleeve with care
Now my heart is a stone so heavy
I could kill at least two birds at once
Being the nice guy is a thing of the past
Thanks for freeing me of that softness
You thought I was all sunshine and delicate things
When really I had just been swallowing razor blades
Now that sun is setting and I hope you see it was you who were wrong
Can you feel my darkness coming, because it’s eager to hold you
If you thought I was the one who would just stand still or turn to run
Your gonna be the one with tired feet
I’m not sad anymore
Just sick with the plague of your lies
Contagious, and I’m looking for someone to kiss
Even angels can make themselves wicked
When we do, we take no prisoners
Still think I’m a game
This one is just beginning
Though I was child,
Yet had no fears,
Soon I grew adult,
Heart busted into tears.
Restless sleep, painful dreams
Always keeping up brew,
Malignant desires knocked at
Brain, to be practically true.
I wish me humble aged!
When lesser power avoids violence,
It is best age for rest,
As goes bald every sense,
Bloody youth is an evil abode,
So I loath my youth.
Wish shaky Skeleton groggy legs,
Even mouth having no tooth,
How a wonderful bed will be,
Quite silent and quadruped ,
Lucky person is might full,
Of dusty pillow under head.
Face covered in white lash.
Visionless eyes behind spectacles.
Ramshackle hand counting bead.
"Burden" other hand crook tackles.
For righteous and crafty,
Old is heaven and hell.
It is a life result,
Quite impossible to repel.
I will anxiously wait,
For taking last bath,
Will be embalmed in soil,
New destination, new path.
A thing so paradoxical desire;
So all encompassing it’s grasp;
A curse of eternal thirst-
Though we are drowning.
Hands desperately scratching for a life raft
That is secretly made of the same water we drown in.
So we continue our daily floundering
Chasing a trail of crumbs we call “Hope”
You are my princess, my fairy tail, your my future queen.
You are the only thing in my future from what I have seen.
You are royality to me, and I litterally have the blood of kings.
I would even set you up in a real castle if you wanted it to be your dwellings.
I love you/everything about you, the pleasure and peace you bring,
how my heart hurts when i know you must go, how it uplifts when my phone begins to ring.
You are my morning thought, and my fading dream.
For you I would commit an onslaught, without you I come apart at the seams.
You are a petal, from a rose,
A sexy model, striking a pose.
My eyes for you never depart, my lust for you always grows.
I would never give you up. You are the one I love and chose.
You are so beautiful, in my eyes you are jewels, you are gold.
I need you, in my heart and in my arms, you I would forever hold.
I want to confess your love, shout it from roof tops, ever so bold.
You are the one I want, to grow deeper in love with, as we get old.
This is for you Dana~Lynn,
For you I would commit every sin.
I would do it with a smile, a smirk, or a evil grin.
Let me be your yang, and I want you to be my yin.
Our love is just at the start, and yet I feel it has always been.
I would cliff dive for you, even throw in a double backspin
You are my high, you are my drug, with you I feel like I drank a bottle of Gin.
It is the vodoo that you do so well that conjurred me to be your evil jinn.
I love you Dana-Lynn Smith. Forever yours, Jesse Devile.
Cap'n & the Wench *part the fourth*
Says the Wench t'the Cap'n "Me thinks I'll 'ave me some White Lightnin' "
So says the Cap'n t'the Wench "Go right ahead Me Dear~
Fer y've ne'er been quite so Frightnin' "
With an Evil Grin & a Twinkle in his Eye~
So's the Wench did notice & then By & By~
& did say to the Cap'n "Be mindin' Yer P's & Q's!"
"Fer Me's the Wench what Decides that which Ye Do!"
"Yer no Grinnin'Porpoise & that there's no Danged Flipper!"
"Har!" says the Cap'n ~ "I am though the Skipper!"
The Wench danced along the Bowsprit of the Great Vessel that Night~
Whilst Mighty SeaWolf stormed along the Decks with all of his Might~
Sails which had lay flat now filled Fastly with Breeze~
Now came that night most Confused sort of Seas~
The Great ship did lay over as Far as she'd Go~
And 'twas the Wench who no longer Ran to & Fro~
Now did those geat waves Break o'er the Ship
Not even the the Great SeaWolf could give 'em the Slip~
Upon the Great Ship and all Her Captain & Crew~
Had befallen the luck Uncommon to but a Few~
For the Great Ship No longer Sailed O'er the Oceans~
And the Mighty SeaWolf drifted toward other Notions~
Says the Wench to the Cap'n "Me thinks I'll rap ya up side o'yer Head!"
So says the Cap'n to the Wench "Go right ahead Me Dear!~
Fer 'twas you brung young Mimi to Bed!"
With an Evil Grin & a Twinkle in his Eye~
So's the Wench did notice & then By & By~
& did say to the Cap'n "Be mindin' Yer P's & Q's!"
"Fer Me's the Wench what Decides that which Ye Do!"
"Yer no Grinnin'Porpoise & that there's no Danged Flipper!"
"Har!" says the Cap'n ~ "I am No Longer the Skipper!"
The Great Ship is Never Seen Sailin' Agin on the Seas....
Spirits were Never that with which this Hardy Wench to Please!
I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow
What makes this world go around?
What makes Death walk the Earth
and God sit on his throne and watch over us?
What makes love go around with such favour
and strut along side lonesome avenues?
What does a widow, a motherless child, a Vietnam veteran
and a boy who has had his fare share of heartbreaks,
all have in common with each other?
They were all promised a beautiful life,
free for all to love, free from the pain of betrayal
We are what make the world go around,
I am the poet who sits and looks at love walk down the street,
and watch the blind eyes stare deep in my soul.
I am the poet, that feels the pain of a heart torn in two.
He his the poet who writes of smiles, to forget the frowns
She is the poetress that writes of her success,
in order to forget her past that tortured her soul,
now he and she walk together writing poetry
sharing their love and smiles with the world.
But with smiles, also comes frowns,
with hearts full of love, comes hearts full of sorrow,
and someone has to stay behind and write of the bad
has to write and compose the songs of the sorrowed hearts.
We are all given love,
but it takes some whole lives to understand
the dark mystery that tags along with beautiful love.
Someone has to suffer the pain,
someone has to sacrifice his or her happiness,
so another poet can feel the beauty in happiness and pain.
I am willing to sacrifice my time and heart,
for my fellow poet to feel the smiles grow on their faces
and feel love uplift their heart,
while the black cancer tears apart mine.
I will go on, with what is left of my heart and smile,
and go into my room of creativity
and compose the songs of sorrowed hearts
for future poets, like that came before me.
I don't know who I am, I do only what I can
I close my eyes for one second, just to escape reality
Why do you show me such a sore mentality?
Your ill-mannered, ungrateful, comments getting monotonous
I can hold my ears, but ignoring you is very strenuous
I open my eyes from my dream, it seemed so real
I want to go back, my dream will heal
Your voice burning in my brain,
Sticking, like a shirt with a stain
You I cannot get rid of, i wish you vanish
Your heart, your soul, all will perish
The illusion of being separate,
Is the source of all our misery.
We are imprisoned in a periphery
A shell of limited moral/mortality
Our mistake was to divorce nature.
To create a space so separate.
In order to emancipate
A self-serving space,
Out of order, out of place.
We are one.
With Nature loss,
Capricious and alone,
The cost of creativity
By Joel Thornton
And so do I fall, and so do I fail,
Falling so deeply into this destructive void,
Nothing but ash and specs of dust that were once my brittle bones and scarred flesh.
To not know what is ahead,
How maddening! How so distraught have I seemingly become,
Forgotten myself as time has smoothed over me.
Tricky, sly fiend indeed; master and slave a like to us all.
Do I dare move forward into the uncertainty that is humanity and of such society?
So gut wrenching, thoughts filled of bile at what is.
As we all are from and are the same, yet tear limb by limb the essence of ourselves by one another in an endless state of bigotry and violence; so brightly are we bathed in evil.
So easy is it to see.
Miracles; perhaps shall they see fit to carry me away from the void that is, and from such temptation, as to live the rest of days in blissful, stagnant dreams.
in this story,
we begin with lies,
we never kept,
I should have held on tighter,
when you wept,
on both our parts,
to shred our hearts,
behind the flowers,
in what we thought,
were our finest hours,
in our lie of love,
a hidden foe,
the evil witch,
her claws aimed to kill,
t'was she who pushed you,
down the hill,
a broken crown,
a forgotten well,
to live without you,
was her spell,
an evil curse,
she cast in spite,
although we loved,
with all our might,
by what was said,
our hearts bled,
watch from afar,
speak in vein,
a curse taken course,
and so it began,
with love and lies,
our fairytale ends,
and we both die...
What stupid fools, with foggy minds
hovering through menkind like a clouding mist of turmoil,
trying to convert humanity to ignorancy
religion and spiritual meet and merge but part their separate ways
But these persistant followers remain in the merge being insistent, intruding and demanding
and each follower with their own personal savior ,to justify their course.
how does light exist in a world void of darkness.
A God without his polarity
is like an above without a below.
why you fools ,so highly oppinionated yet you fail to help yourselves
Constantly seeking yet, ye have not the eyes to see.
eyes so clouded with ire, ignorancy and pride
Why then boast superior? ye the lords of earth?,
Why thinketh yourselves worth of the titles superior masters of all, yet
ye remain even greater slaves than most
sometimes silence is better understood than mere words deeply spoken
though from a hollow bossom .
those with the knowledge, know when to apply it
in a world like ours, so clouded by the mists of those who believe in a certain perfection.
I am the lord of polarity in isaiah 45 vs 7
"I the lord do and cause all things"
isn't it boring, a world without contradiction
cannot what brings harm also be used for a better good
Then all become neutral as one extreme leads to the other,
as death eventually leads to life and the end of any course is the beginning of another cycle
is not evil an intention found in a foul heart a concept for only humans .
doesn't even greater evil lurk in places of worship, audaciously
standing before us and using the book he crooks the poor.
what greater blasphemy than that
which lurks behind the curtain & goes by a title
"confess thy sins my children", he says
now aint he your lord .
“You guys are slowly morphing into
the same person!”
“C’mon! You heard Hannah! Let’s march together, Jessica!”
Well, gee, they look awkward now
perhaps my greatest fear remains unfulfilled.
“Well, Hannah, I would give you a hug,
but you look so depressed right now,
which I suppose is an even better reason to give you a hug,
but I don’t want it to be so dull”
Ah! Hannah, can’t you see?
TWO EVIL MONSTERS
CLAWING AT OUR HEARTS
To cause someone such a pain was not enough
Than to choke the void with shame would conquer love
To give someone this emptiness as a gift
You would fill the box with lies and wrap it up with promises
So reach inside I just dont care
You wont find anything in there
Just a broken heart made of clay
And arteries filled with a bitter taste
I just thought I could be your friend
But your fangs were sharp in the end
What I see in your eyes is a liar
The beautiful death of my vampire
Turn on the TV to turn the silence down
Because the voices from inside they echo loud
Feeling dragged until the finger nails are all torn out
As the taste of my dying pleasure drips from your mouth
So rip my heart out through my spine
I'm sure it won't hurt as bad this time
You see Im not made from paper mache
I will not easily tear and just blow away
So you won't crumble me up again
And throw me away with the wind
My bitterness has cut a frown into your smile
The beautiful death of my vampire
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
what followed Jesus while he traveled alone?
well... God the father yes, but following Jesus
to corrupt him, to destroy him,to defeat him,
was sin, was evil, was one who if seen
by any but followers, would cower at its evil,
and bow in fear of what MAY happen if they do not.
we see it every day, and shrug for we cannot see,
see the darkness that crawls lurking through and under
the shadow of religion, the very shadow
of what is Holy, is interpreted as on thing
and seen as another, seen as a whole other,
other worldly, outer existent, world.
and though we believe in Him
we all walk in its shadow
for we are not the Bible, for we are not of Holy
made in His image, found all over in His realm
and outside His world. but still living
in the shadow of religion
we exist, we live... but do we repent?
yes? no? speak only to Him
to relieve yourself of your earthly scars
to release all of the weight
speak only to Him, for we are
in the shadow of religion... His religion
why do we say we are Holy
when we know... completely that we are not?
we may belong to Him, but are we Him?
do not yell but no, He is us, He is what He is.
follow him and you will be free
do not say you are Him, for you are not...
you are not Him... continue to walk
on this path, belong to Him
but you can still walk in the shadow of religion
evil lurks here, so does darkness
but light is in this shadow, and no matter
what or where you are, the light in this shadow
is stronger than darkness, anywhere in this
follow his path, and finish off
ascending to the kingdom, the kingdom of Heaven,
of mercy, of bliss, you have endured,
endured enough, belong to Him, in His kingdom
let light live, for you will be with him.
I do not know?
Satin evil intrigues us so that he’s devastation enables souls to glow, Killing the
impossible of any growth, Leading to the fires of his satisfaction by implying his
whispers in our actions, where did such evil evolve but I found the answer to this
problem I solve, blessed among greatness and his power, he could’t even
understand the knowledge upon by the hour, So he used greed of seconds to
devour, Banished from the heavenly kingdom beneath the earth, But from the
beginning of man kind he simply was the curse of, Destruction,
But by Instructions this darkness turns into miracles of life, Joy is love and by this
it shall cover the night, So light brings forth faithful things, Turning Satin
nightmares into wonderful dreams, Anointed by my Savior presence and blessed
with my eyes seeing miraculous scenes by following my father, Instructions.
Well, the Hornet Queen who knows who she is, or if
she if, tells, creation that the lines off commutication
is broken at times and the message is wrong, and
they mean no harm if they could just be justice in the
war of the thrones and in the end he well see that they
are well golden and his delight. Its the invention not
them or they or we , me or I
Raging evils shut the door
to all that could
be better and even more.
Innocence stolen and
Life grasping, groaning
at purity crushed.
Suffering, weeping in
life’s passionate lust.