In the shadows of a secret silent sacred place
Almighty God is dwelling, in whose essence
I find my refuge and my strength
And deliverance from the vile and toxic waste
of a world of spreading pestilence.
Under the wings of angels, I am shielded
and swiftly guided and whisked away to peace.
The terrors of the night and the violent abuses of day
Of raging psychopaths no longer reach me, they are kept at bay
For God is my continual and everlasting habitation
Here there is no evil nor plagues of violent confrontation.
I have called upon His name and he did answer me
And I am with Him always in His eternal presence in eternity.
(my version of Psalm 91)
353.
My Abomination to Archdemon Mammon
Oh Archdemon Mammon, accept my abomination!
You who are crowned as “Lord of Greed”
I do not want the abuses you heed!
You covet for everything above your need
I do not need the excesses you feed!
You make yourself miserable & desperate indeed
I renounce such rich excretions of your filthy seed!
-07/09/2015
(Dumarao)
*My Demons Collection
The wind off the cold North Atlantic ocean
smells of piquant seawater on its breath,
agreeably pungent, brackish and moist.
The legendary Nor'easter off Newfoundland,
the bane of so, so many ships at sea,
is not a breeze with a soft, caressing hand.
It kicks and knocks and slaps and whacks and thwacks,
pummels and punches, pinches and pushes.
The stolid, sturdy imperturbable island
sits there and puts up with the abuses.
The northeasterly wind is very resentful
of its odiferous reputation.
At night, it simmers and seethes and smolders,
writhes and trembles, weeps and whines, stirs and sulks.
But, like the song says, the wind and sea smells
are "perfume to my soul". I stand alone on shore
and listen to the ocean's roar, wind's woosh,
and my mind decompresses, destresses;
this is my peace, my serenity.
I am home.
Great blessing with faith, God fuses,
Grace in my heart, He infuses,
Thanks and praises, soul profuses,
As His vessel, me He uses,
His love, He never refuses,
Turn from sin, it sure confuses,
Leave away all your excuses,
He will save from all abuses,
Goodness to all, He diffuses,
God's light through heaven suffuses.
A detour, from off her time's
Shop-haggling usage.
Aligns with, through abuses
Working for a wage.
Snaps one back again, into
The old pleasantries.
Child's childish; with these about;
Hoppers; winged for bird!
And for rooks, as rantors heard!
Fun, fun parodies.
Sunday free time is full of noise
Grumbling, banging my name the voice
It's sad so sad at 63rd
Monday wakes with a slap on the face
Dash to the toilet, no time to waste
Busy, noisy hateful days
Tuesday in love with Monday's race
Wednesday is at war with peace
So many feasts of fists and fits
Thursday come along with memories
Of the good old days now sinking
Friday's happiness is always frozen
Time with God, I beg an ending
It's when to pray for days upcoming
Saturday is hefty with worthy abuses
And Sunday peeps once again
Reminding me that one pretty day
63rd would be a white smoke of the past
Don't give a jot or
A sod this lot
On your tod..just nod
Seedier greedier leaders
Stun..Shun the Needier
Not just down trodden
Sodden...run roughshod
Beseech each of those clowns..down
In the dumps chumps who chose
Plumps for stealthy
Leeches who teaches
Fools at our schools
Only the wealthy can stay healthy
No education for the nation
Uses...abuses..eschews..media issues..then sues
Argy bargy - sarky malarkey ensues
Bemuses readers…forsake news as fake
It's a Maga Saga ruse for f**ks sake
No immigration...deplore integration
To restore order…close the border
Hardcore race riot diet of denigration
Likes 60's generation segregation
Damnation not salvation..just devastation
The jagged edges tear apart
The cornerstones of her heart
Each day, there's an emotional dart
Thrown by her counterpart
The husband's venom impart
And sadly, she's his push cart
Where seemingly, she's his spare part
That he abuses with his mouthpart
She's fallen to her knees and kick-start
Thus, a bullseye that cries for a depart
For the jagged edges will never depart
But wisely, she needs to be smart
And distance herself from his blackheart
She yearns for smooth edges and a new start
In the end, she clears off her sweetheart
connie pachecho
7/31/25
The ass on high protein diet
Thinks he can really fight the beast
The beast has lost his instincts and
He is struggling to just live
The genius is being mocked
Mediocrity is being preserved
Monk is yelling abuses
The preacher is moaning in the jail
The poet prophecied of "second coming"
I can just cry for him to arrive
They (the Legacy media) persist in their use of deceptive practices with the intent to obfuscate what is true. They conveniently avoid facts, that are known, intending to mislead those who are superficially engaged.
The freedoms granted to the media by our constitution, as intended, was for the protection of the masses against rogue governments and or political abuses.
However principled the intentions of our forefathers in granting this freedom of the press, they would most certainly be appalled by the ongoing, intentional distorting of what is true, and what is currently being disseminated to the public by the majority of legacy media.
Today's abundance of available media sources, for those who seek what's true, only adds to the confusion and mistrust of this information. The media's use of their platforms to promote an agenda, or for the purpose of propaganda to benefit a political party or political outcome, is exactly why we are no longer,
(United States)!
Silent pain is the most violent one
No hysterics, no tears
Just mere silent
Outside nothing displayed
I don't want to say anything
I don't want to feel anything.
Tremendous pain is the most cruel one
Lying alone in my bed crying
Groaning in pain helpless
Nothing sort of a torture
I don't want to find for help
I don't want to say anything to anyone.
This time in my state I feel helpless
I sense payback time in life
Little abuses filed from youth
In the body or in the spirit
Has come fruiting in old age
Repentance tribute in the end.
Into me
When will they see
I shall let myself be
Inertwine in revolution
Searching for peace
Why has it become so hard
Almost 50 years to the day
Alone I sit
Ponder it all
I need it to end
This insecurity
No longer a child
Don't want to be an adult
Time is slipping away
Running out of life
Will I be this way for all my days
Where is the courage to be seen
Hidden away forgotten
Indulged in unspeakable abuses
Welcoming the lies
Avoiding all truths
I am the example
The intuition of what not to be
Here I stare back at me
With so much discus
I don't think six feet deep will keep it secure
They all will call me by name
The demons will run fear
The victims will lie
It will be the carnage I need
To remember all that was left of me before
It all went south.
An old man’s pride was set aside when he came to realize,
The arrogance of his youth was grounded in untruth.
The government he believed in was corrupted from within.
It tore at his very soul, yet the revelations proved it was so.
The government he believed in had deceived him.
Courage to change nearly drove him insane.
But only the deranged could deny what was plain.
There could be no more absolution for the institutions,
He had held in reverence given the mountains of evidence,
Of corruption and destruction spewing out of these agencies.
Upon much reflection he made this detection.
Programs for problems seemed to only prolong them.
Democracy’s bureaucracies had become lifelines for the American aristocracy.
When confronted with these facts his instincts said attack.
The messenger is all wrong, bigoted, hateful, racist, with motives of greed.
Yet he knew these were just excuses to deny the abuses,
Which his intellect clearly deduced were the truth.
He had to change!
He had to have courage!
He had to change!
WHEN GOD CHOOSES
Who can be against who God chooses
Who can council the Lord God Most High
He does what He wills
Fear not, just be still,
To His will all men must comply
Who can lay a charge to God's chosen
Who can condemn one of His own elect
He was made guilty more than all
For us took the fall,
Of His own He was the greatest reject
Victory belongs to our God
He defends those the system abuses.
The innocent and poor,
their oppressions endured,
He will raise up who the whole world refuses
It's whatever pleases Him, no excuses,
the brazen, the stubborn, and the mulish,
He will take off a head
raise a tail there instead,
Confounding the wise with the foolish.
Let all men put trust in the Lord Jesus,
When God takes it out of our hands,
What God does is good
Whether or not understood,
God's ways are much higher than man's.
Melted in the background of the forefront of my mind
Thinking about all of the thoughts I've left far behind
Now everything within my head seems so very intertwined
The asterisk by the questions of answers I'll never find
Interference is what confuses my once solid mental state
Fear is the illusion that my enemies illustrate
Unbalanced in tortured abuses that echo and reverberate
Evidence seems inconclusive but not open for debate
Inhumane acts to humanity just a subject to be tested
Mind raped in profanity every part they have molested
Actions of complete insanity why was I even selected
The power of my anatomy has been tortured and arrested
V2K, silent sound, no touch torture, gang stalked target
How to fight those who always walk on Blood Red Carpet
bmdavey@10/6/24
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