Leavened unleavened
risen and stayed
Lost when recovered
joyful dismay
Intrinsic extrinsic
the whole without parts
Tomorrow this moment
stopping to start
Benign and bedeviled
revealed yet unseen
A valid deception
blessed but obscene
The past and the future
hello and goodbye
Affirming rejection
— all truth to belie
(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
So many are saying things unkind,
disparaging or hurting some other.
Saying whatever crosses their mind,
and often the truth they will smother.
Often each story is slightly slanted,
with a straight face, many belie.
Once it’s news it can’t be recanted,
and half a truth is still 100% lie.
Look closely at shadows following you
shading footfalls with a soft Lapis blue
Bits of yesterday mixed with tomorrow
Shadows reflecting days we could borrow
They belie the memories that we find
in their whispers of all those left behind
moments becoming shadows of our days
twisting, turning as our hair fills with greys
Shadows of moments that we now regret.
Promises that became waves at sunset.
Shadows of life we would gladly repeat.
A perfect world where we could again meet.
Alas, like shadows, wishes never last
As we hold them, they fade into the past.
Shadows mirror time, bending now with age
In life, shadows fall on every page.
Confronting shadows, I study each one
There are many I have kept from the sun
It's too late now for changes to be made.
When shadows occur, I'll put them in shade.
Pain that rips across my head
Like a bullet in the sky
Other problems are the cause
Answers to which belie
Clearly it’s not straightforward
As a multi-faceted mind plight
The road still being navigated
With no clear end in sight
What does it take, one wonders
To strip me from this shell
I must somehow battle endless angst
And fight my way out of this hell
The tendency to go insane
Is soothed by the sounds of drops of rain
Providing consolatory solace to
The prison in my brain
On an excursion of investigation
To a solution momentous
A dilemma once explored by Freud
My ‘non compos mentis’
Healing, a path
Will take much time
Dealing with each of the root causes
Obstacles, I’m yet to climb
Bearing little room for pauses
Ashby v White, if applied right.' With the script i do not
Comply' at the ballot will belie.) Remove misogeny from
On high..Why choose to be opressed? Once this reality
Is addressed.' Other lands should follow suit? Then your
Fate will not be moot.' (The no longer to be trusted)
Shall then really find they're busted.' So be ready from this
Day give them the boot.' Send them on their un-merry way.!
A woman splayed upon a lofty beach—
the drunkard’s stumble-street-strut-jumble-key—
BUY NOW, AND GET THE SECOND [this/that] FREE!
—and what’s this cracked out weirdo got to preach?
…”about the senate’s 3rd bid to impeach…”—
.(Get lost.-)—.IF YOU THINK YOU’LL NEVER BELIE—
look,look!a man crushed by a falling tree!—
—(“oh!—my God!”)—nvm—it’s…freedom…of speech?
Get real! Wake up! Which trope must I invoke?—
(Uh?)—GET REAL RELIEF FROM [this.that]for cheap…—
(Am I getting déja vu?)—(Wait a minute…
)—"everyone’s already way deep in it!"*—
(Who’s telling me that?)—it crawls like a creep:
*Deconformity,(am I just a joke?).
Is this a lie?
Do you believe the truth, in fact?
Is this a lie?
Substantially, you do belie
the whale of a tale is fact-packed.
The honest truth can be sidetracked.
Is this a lie?
Where harmony hoards the supposed hurt,
Symphonies belie me.
I rein myself in to not be curt,
But noise surrounds me.
Where time heals the freshly toiling,
I have old, murky bloodstains
Yet no one sees how quietly I'm boiling
Until the tipping point I shall hide my pains.
Why such a discordance in my disposition?
I desire to mourn the impact of this tyranny
Is this prophetic or an imposition? It's difficult to overlook the irony.
Someday I will explode, not implode
A magnetic, magnificent starburst.
For now, continue, continue to goad,
But this cacophony will not halt my bloodthirst.
In the realm of the heart which served as our guide
For vanities sake we cheated and lied
And all of the signs that lighted our way
Now darkened and silent had lead us astray
In our haste to proclaim that all must belong
We abandoned our will to see right from wrong
So we searched to the west, we searched to the east
Yet ever within did we search there the least
Now between every beat in a darkening hush
Each step of retreat in a frightening rush
And doubts every treason reflected in tears
Did overlay reason with maddening fear
Here Death came a stalking, unheeded, unsought
And sold us the wares we had already bought
So we pelted headlong into welcoming arms
Whose offered embrace was enticingly warm
We took all the things Death offered in spades
And with them adorned our newly dug graves
Of the angels that scry and mark every sin
No stroke may belie nor ever forfend
The promise averred yet never attained
In souls so conferred with indelible stain
They once were held in high esteem
the pride of each judicial dream
The ones who have the final word
when arguments have all been heard
Their loyalty was guaranteed
all virtuous, in thought and deed
Nine beacons of integrity
the last step in democracy
But privilege has hidden flaws
where Justices corrupt the laws
Their shameful greed has tipped the scales
their broken oaths tell ugly tales
The solemn robes of black they wear
belie the truth of what dwells there
A Court bereft of moral code
consumed by seeds of greed they sowed
Big confusing words belie
how the essence of good design
is being simple, succinct, accurate and precise!
It's not conceptualizing, brainstorming,
envisioning, strategizing, theorizing,
or hypothesizing!
But, being clearly focused on the straight and narrow path
to elegant simplicity in design,
With nothing left to add,
nothing unnecessary left to take away.
Strangely, the path to keeping it simple
can involve many complex phases and diversions.
With many trials and errors made to eliminate
all the unnecessary stuff,
to get to the core of the problem,
and the kernel for the solution.
Keeping it simple
is the ultimate sophistication in design,
showing clarity of thought, in understanding the problem
and striving for ultimate elegance of
smart simplicity in design.
When boredom knocks upon your door,
Life can become a dreadful bore,
Don’t fret, don’t cry, don’t belie your eyes,
For creative magic within this boredom lies.
Your mind, stuck in idle neutral gear,
Begins to wander, from here to far and near.
It dreams up worlds of pure wild delight,
Where dreams make hay, and pigs take flight.
You start to hum silly humdrum tunes,
Launch and pop, soap bubble balloons.
You doodle dragons, fierce and grand,
Build huge grandiose castles out of sand.
For when the mind has naught to do,
It finds crafty ways to something new.
It spirals, twirls, in happenstance.
Kicks up its heels in random dance.
You write a play, perform a skit,
For no one but your cat befit.
So three cheers to boredom, long may it last,
For it breaks the drudge of treadmill fast.
In courts where lies weave their tails,
And justice seems a distant dream,
There lies the fate of souls confined,
By trials flawed and justice blind.
Florida, hear their muted cries,
Beneath the endless, azure skies,
Restore the truth, make wrongs undone,
Illuminate their moonless sun.
A second glance, a careful eye,
To see what justice might belie,
Review each case with earnest heart,
For fairness is a noble art.
For those who've suffered unjust pain,
Let fairness fall like cleansing rain,
And from these cells, set free the right,
To walk in liberty's pure blinding light.
This is constructed in the CUBE16 style I created several years ago.
As conscripts March
and war is nigh,
fear grips men’s hearts.
Stern looks belie.
Their ears are filled
with rifle shot.
The one for them
they hear it not.
As battles rage,
lives beckon risk.
Anticipate
dread’s obelisk.
Fierce battles end,
then quiet falls.
The lofty brave
feel dreadful palls.
Does war resolve
the burning hate,
or does it let
the rage abate?
War never is
an ending place.
It soon approves
a new hot space.
As calm returns,
its time is short.
Those wanting war
will soon extort.
Can peace exist
where boots now trod?
Peace has one source.
The grace of God.
The art of persuasion was her forte
The art was most masterful on the dark canvas
of night, in dimly lit places where smoky rhythms play
With a subtle gleam of seduction in her eyes
and a mystery in her smile
No man could resist her charms
But, her heart was not made of stone
Her armor was vulnerable
to the magic that is love
For love could not be dethroned
But love has its thorns, that belie its fragrant rose
Could she stand heartbreak and the pain it would impose
Could she stand the tears that would inevitably flow
Or could she persuade love not to go?
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