The more unwanted a desire is the more likely it will come back to you if you try to throw it away....
Some feelings are like a boomerang
You can try to face it head on but it sticks its tounge out at you in the mirror and calls you names
It lurks in your cabinets and takes up space in your refrigerator
It sings to you in the shower and turns your internal radio to a station you'd never voluntarily listen to
Every word you ever said plays on repeat, oh would you like all the things you regret 24/7 commercial free
hurting your own feelings is now included with your paid subscription to abject misery
Sometimes it seems like theres no end in sight and the service charges keep changing
I'd like to cancel my membership please
Does anyone know how to log out of their anxiety?
He took all that was legally his to inherit
And never to lay claim on any deed again.
Yet, having spent all, now in lack and want,
Living in abject penury, he returned home;
He returned not as a son any more but.....
Positioning himself as a servant legally
speaking.
But grace located him and restored him;
Instead of shame and reproach he found;
Grace and the father's embrace saying..
Welcome home, this is your home both
now and forever.
(Written 6th December, 2015.)
Intangible.
It's all the rage!
What's a soul?
A pint or two.
Intangible!
So much to fear.
Abject refrain.
Ember rot.
Intangible?
So gather round.
Harshest whisper.
Crippled pyre.
Black-blue paint bleeds from within the cracks of crumbling cement walls,
Crushed skeletons infused within limestone erode,
exposing nameless sorrow hidden behind faceless grains of gypsum,
while a forgotten galaxy's celestial ceiling peers through a decaying thatched roof.
Misguided souls reach out into night's void,
screeching repeated sins into feverish gusts of wind,
tethered to each rusting rebar that's barely holding what was once their haven together,
unable to let go, doomed to relive past grievances.
Weathered spiral staircases lead towards nowhere.
Bleakness suffocates while hope is snuffed out,
like the wick of bitter candles drowning in their own wax.
Spinning surrealistic scenes melt into intangible realities,
each soul writhing in agony, trying to break free of abject cycles,
yet punishment clings like the smell of burnt tobacco,
unable to separate the scent from the fibres of existence.
Disembodied voices find no reprieve,
only more excruciation
at the hands of cruel judgement.
Abject behemoths, conniving destructive existence... Fomenting
grave hazardous intent.. Jeopardising... Knowingly... Loathsome
manipulative numbing objectionable practices... Questionably
raising substantial theoretical unsustainable visions...Weird
xenobots yielding zootoxins
I caught a ghostlike glimpse,
of steel breath on blunt mirror,
as my taut brain mulled scars,
from fractal bleak life motif,
zooming across skewed glass,
reflections glum and forlorn,
black ink eye ring capture,
shadow, shade, or shield,
brittle convex, abject cog,
whoa, my frail image riven
Have you watched the video of a joyfull child, a boy running with just stumps for
Feet.' Waving what is left of his arms in joy
A child of war ravaged Palastine a real place in the middle east, where beach sand allows his actions,
cushioning the shock! as
He enjoys the days treats, the gifts of war and rumours of, in a place where vultures truly
Roost and also soar, where real-estate exponents would build luxury penthouses at that same shore.' And there will no doubt be buyers, avid for any spoils? Supporters of human averice wallowing
In each advance? Of conflict with its supperating now full blown boils.' God bless the boy, i don't know his name.' Lord
His example puts me to abject shame..'
I am against this, and indeed all wars and
The human buzzards, that gather, to rip at any spoils.'
A MOON TUNING RAP
Peeping down
Through the closed blinds
Reflecting moon spy-tease
The created mind
Manipulating the running
Of ebony-hued time
Trying to canvass a poem
With lines that rhyme…
Now if you knew how to rap
This would be a snap
But it’s not so easy
In the wee hours
without a nap
Yet when you’ve survived
The trials of another day
It’s not really that hard
To scribe what to say…
Here in the home of the brave
And land of the free
We have to cave
Racism and abject bigotry
And while cold war debates
Continue their drum majoring runs
Sacred lives remain victims of hate
And it's free-firing, murdering, bloody guns…
No longer can we let the fearful majority
Keep us in such a dire calamity
For like the ancestors dead and gone
We too must fight against evil and wrong–
Rising up and claiming our prized liberty…
We can’t leave coming generations
Without worthiness and high hopes
And must not insult our ancestors
Who fought and won the right to vote…
A FREEFLOW APATHETIC INVESTMENT: AN ALLEGORY MOMENT
Know that today’s war is
A real power mongering,
Money-making investment:
Mudering innocence lives,
A part of the bloody returns:-
Ironically, to ignore this investment,
Is a moneyless investment itself.
However, the return is abject hypocrisy:-
And so-called “legal murdering”,
Of defenseless human beings,
Is of little concern for us
Beings who declare we
Are for human equity,
Freedom, justice,
And democracy:-
How long will we wallow
In the mockery of such beliefs?!
Come on now, let’s evoke peace
And get to depressing today’s war:
Icing out heated political muderings:-
Mister Bourdain clearly in abject pain
The cook feeling crook can't refrain
Asked about same subject did complain
Coffee's not a culture he does explain
Why do they sustain their campaign
His bane such nonsense won't wane
Not like the throng along the Seine
Nor the glitz of Biarritz or arcane Spain
We know a barista may have to train
Wittily says in Italy have made it plain
Breakfast frothy coffee then not again
The agony of Anthony fuels his disdain
Slicker chair made from wicker & cane
Hysteria like wisteria on a trendy lane
Specs and pecs those necks will crane
Feline design plastic surgery is insane
Their ilk less coffee more milk will contain
Let's end yuppie caffeine bean reign
The vastly ghastly inane finally slain
Shallow callow stain down the drain
Forget arty farty latte said Bourdain
He did maintain to party & entertain
Not trippy dippy hippy Lion's mane
Go loco coca not cocoa yep cocaine
IN ORDER TO GO, YOU HAVE TO STOP
Listen, understand, and be aware:
In order to go, you have to stop
Procrastinating and wallowing
In abject apathy:-
You've got to stop saying to yourself,
“I can’t deal with this BS anymore”:
The shackling of you, not going:-
Yes, in order for you to go, you have to stop;
You have to stop putting off today, what is
Necessary for tomorrow to become
A wishful, blessed today:-
Listen, understand, and be aware:
Yellow-thoughts, prepare you
To get ready to stop and
Prepare to reflect on
The green light
Where God
Is sending you:-
Remember, heat comes
With the light of wisdom’s fire:-
Thus, it’s time to stop just sitting there,
And get going where God has fired you up to be!
While there may often be blinking yellow lights,
Signaling a time to slow down and assess the route’s
Ongoing to where you are being navigated to be,
Just slow down, assess yourself, and proceed onward:-
Born in Alabama and raised in Eatonville, she knew from an early age that there were big shoes she wanted to fill.
An authoress princess... with so much zest and finesse.
She spoke and wrote from deep within. She told 'trying' stories about her people, but mainly how they could win.
BLACK is beautiful!
This is what she proclaimed and wore—a powerful trumpet for truth that blared Black lore.
An authoress princess... with so much zest and finesse.
Stubborn as a goat and as pretty as an angel—she refused to follow the popular crowd. Instead, she spoke the unapologetic truth of her people loud and proud.
Soon, silenced and pushed into abject poverty, her trumpet was muffled to mute the sounds of her story.
An authoress princess with so much esteem. Through the rain, she let her sun shine, and before her day was done, she was elevated to queen.
Be it a caterpillar or a man,
Life longs to rise further atop the ladder--
Life in a valley to crest, be better
A bit like a butterfly if it can.
Man, captive born to animal nature,
Endeavours to rise from given stature.
A rare one rises from dreary dull lures,
From cosy raw comforts of a cocoon,
And weak of will, never for long endures,
In search of life’s green spring from raging June,
Strives nor succeeds but hides the head in dune,
Condemned in cocoon’s cage, long to remain,
Gets wing-born nor sees morrow's sunny noon,
A lifetime’s chance turns bliss to abject bane.
___________________________
Sonnet | 03.08 2007 | butterfly, life, philosophy
Note: It is commonly believed that it takes a lifetime, if not more, to evolve and move on to higher journey. A caterpillar evolves to be a butterfly in just one life, this sonnet celebrates.
abject daydreamer
a don quixote thinker
whimsical mind growth
Loose self-consciousness, be one of "The Few."
Struggle up the mountains, taking in The View
See grandeur of bold progress, yet remain teachable
serving in love, be loveable.
Persevere, laughing all the way.
Make the devil pay!
Heart's desire to do the will of God Above,
Giving joy and offerings in simple Love.
Step by step and sometimes stumbling
But always in sight of the King,
Unflinchingly obeying and worshiping go,
Then resting in His arms His smile you'll know.
Priceless blessings for you and all,
Through Jesus, with you at every call,
Being transformed and changed,
Your life rearranged.
Repentant in abject remorse
Brings The Saviour close of course.
There's the sweetness of coming Home
Never to be alone, even as we roam
The Heart's Interpreter awaits our focus
With a Heavenly peace and joy for us.
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