Best Hypocrisies Poems
And when will the tides turn against confident indifference?!
When will humanity cease
To throw cats against curiosity’s silver coated dagger
Another played out song
Another dramatic lyric
Shifting embellished overtones
With deteriorating tact
They spit posthumous awakenings
As divinity laced smiles, wither under a convoluted moon
Shedding retina waterfalls
Misunderstood
Pretentious anger becomes Aphrodite mediocrity
Wisdom, they never “put out”
Crippled tears
Become self-important struts within olive tinted reckonings
Lambasted butterflies
Stirring hornets’ nest
Uninvited
They dream for better days
While double-knotting gang colored bandanas
On eagle’s achromatic foreheads
Another Woody Woodpecker band-aid pulled from condescending hypocrisies
…
And when will the tides turn against pilot light’s mal-intent?
When will the flinty sheep
Stop wondering how these charring, orange fires began
Forgetting the 115 octane gasoline can
They hold quietly in their hands
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
hypocrisies, life, psychological, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Keep Calm
Keep Calm
centreI gulp I gasp I choke I chant
Only to be saved by a swallow
I hypnotize I hypocrisies I dream I deny
Only when officiating the mourning of mornings
my body balances : my mind meanders..
I exercise my anxiety I clothe I meditate my mind
The performance presents the participation of a pause
I show case stage fright I sequester I summon the night
The time the tyranny the tick tock tick the torment
My mind misplaced : My body embraced
I whisper I procrastinate
I sleep I sleepwalk
I sleep
I slumber>
Categories:
hypocrisies, poetry, sleep,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Who can survive here?
The air that we breathe smells of blood and anarchy
The water that you drink tastes of fear and lies
You should not say what you think and live
You are living in the time, where fake is fashion
Who can win here?
Your victory doesn’t depend on your strength and wisdom
Your victory depends on the desecration of a referee
The ground that you fight for is sleepy and risky
The cause that you took is bloody and tricky
Who can lead here?
Your vision is blinded by greed and hypocrisies
The mission you are on is full of ambush and lethargy
Your message is rejected before it comes out of your heart
The soil you step is full of personal mines and dynamite
Who can pray and be holy here?
Your faith is legalized according to an ideological agenda
Your God is only accepted if he fits into their temple
Your act of worship is effective if it fits into their idol
Your inspirations are right when it fits their aspirations
Categories:
hypocrisies, africa, blessing, conflict, deep,
Form:
Verse
Bedeviled by those pleading eyes
deep as the secrets they chasm
captive as the questions one must surmise
and I, for your deliverance the ransom
"never leave me, my love, my friend"
spoken feebly as a prayer of little faith
In angst your heart once more bereaved
for true love remains impossible to erase
Traveling the road of never-knowns
your world abhorring to let go
granting time - that your soul not die
reflecting back an impatience you see in mine
There bewitched I stand in awe
nay, bend my knees at the epiphany of thy need
Persuaded to ignore once more the flaws
like every detailed dimension of a dream
Dare I surrender my disbelief, and wholly succumb your divination
hold tightly to your second sight
your prophetic inclinations?
for already by your augury - given you my life
Why hold back unwavering faith
as if now it's loss could be greater?
Perhaps my fate is better weighed
if our odds remain in your favor
My luck in love a chain-mail buffoonery
made of broken links and sparse longevity
Like a devil mocks hypocrisies charity
he so crushed my heart with stealth dexterity
So let it be said... you need me more
and that your love surpasses
For the art of love wears a mask of war
camouflaged in the art of stanzas
Whatever the spell enchantment cast
It began with one look in your eyes
has withstood the storms of assurances dashed
and neared forever with another guy
You were my present, then past, full circle and back
voodoo allure, a loves black magic
Bedeviled I say, held by your craft
your sorcerer's smile is a cold damp draft.
Categories:
hypocrisies, for him, love, magic,
Form:
Quatrain
I am reading
"Democracy in Black"
by Eddie S. Glaude, Jr.
but continue reconstructing this title
"Hypocrisy in Only White."
Because
when I let my memory
look back to my own self-interests in history
as archaeological digging and prying and discovery,
adventure and curiosity
of my internal ecological development,
I reweave back
through still on-going matriarchal lines
that include,
are shared with,
anyone capable of reading
and comprehending
these words of regenerating memory.
Back
to darker
denser
richer genes and memes
of cooperative to still thrive today,
saving competitions for survival moments.
Back to
better to prey together
side by side
as neanderthal brothers and sisters
than to grow predative
against each other.
This Golden Rule
of dark Afro-Eurasian
equatorial resonant depth
of historical origin
in normative play
at least until we substitute capitalism's
supremacist agendas
for rationalism's ego-ecocentric
reweaving memory
of this original Earth Mom
magical and mysterious
then worshiped and danced
ritualed and cooperative ownership co-governing,
then more modern radical eccentricities
forgetting our shared matriarchal
regenetic
memory of dualdark
hypocrisies of merely white inferiority
complexes
disease
dissonance
despair of remaining fully
who we together are,
where we have been
predating history
where we could return
each morning
with greatest polyphonic joy.
To paraphrase David Holmgren
(Permaculture, p. 113)
Containers were one essential organic innovation
necessary for this cooperative agrarian revolution.
Opportunities to refill organically produced bodies
are enormous
transitioning into recycling energy descent
for shared cooperative memory.
Reimaging full organic containers
is far better than sending us
away and down and out for recycling.
Most official ecopolitical waste reduction strategies
place little emphasis
on organic reuse refilling re-educating
deep ecologically learning containers,
or confuse WinWin refueling,
reweaving,
with capitalism's WinLose recycling,
switching productive containers
into merely consuming eventual empties,
bleached-out white-washed faded hypocrisies
of purest supremacy against nothing
deeply densely
richly resonantly valued.
Categories:
hypocrisies, culture, earth, health, history,
Form:
Political Verse
Waiting for an epiphany
Something…anything…
A life in transit
Keyhole visions… narrowed too fine
Cynicism, mockery doing rounds
Despairing times… out of bounds
What could’ve been and what is…
Funny how the story doesn’t change
Driftwood listless, aimless
Who is your huckleberry finn?
Hypocrisies, deceit, lies and everything lame
That just leaves god left to blame
Categories:
hypocrisies, depression, faith, introspection, life,
Form:
Prose Poetry
black mother
the white of day stains your
painted dress
the black of night turns
razor sharp
feet that wear flaming coals
a soul that bleeds
outside and in
where trees bear crimson fruit
as roots full bore
hypocrisies drill so deep
to dig her earth
still plough the surface
clinging vines of apartheid
how much she suffers
raped and ravaged
again and again
strijdom
malan
verwoerd
names that stain
her southern land
g7 dead zones from 48
and cape town clearings
with
sharpeville apologies
still
segregate
now die
and die
and die
awake
by fate arise
friends of earth
minstrels of life
cast a new play
sing for the future
move for the past
turn now
in loves instance
an old face
a new name
an old shadow
seeds to grow
white sister
black brother
white father
black mother
african
Heart
african
soul
=z=
Categories:
hypocrisies, africa, freedom, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
The Gospels share a negative understory,
thematic across all four.
However diverse these four voices may be
in describing and delineating Messianic love,
and political-economic priorities for poor spirits,
all four are univocal with anecdotal warnings:
If you are on the supremely powerful hoarding side
referring to those less fortunate than your enlightened self
as mere cowards
and traitors
and sinners
being who they marginally are,
as they perhaps criminally are,
for acting out insanely,
as they compulsively,
but not long-term nurturingly, will,
then you are on a wrong side
of co-redemptive ecopolitical action;
the wrong side of the GoodNews Gospels.
Blaming the victims
of poverty and ecopolitical marginalization
of abuse and neglect,
of addiction and victimless criminalization,
is the Gospel-condemned hypocrisy
of desecrating Pharisees
and Sadducees,
Publicans
and other clericalist malignant Aristocrats,
Caesars breeding Mammon
rather than CoMessiahs breathing Manna.
If we create an old with new blend of Jesus
as Solomon,
a more positive Gospel message
invites discerning issues of freedoms and rights to say
and/or do and not do
by asking ourselves, and each other:
Will this democratize freedoms to love,
to participate
to cooperate
to look for WinWin resolutions?
And, will this build higher boundaries around monoculturing restrictions
toward further WinLose anger,
fear,
intolerance,
chronic hatreds,
while excusing hypocrisies
of supremacists calling themselves on the side of defusing love's barriers,
removed from cowards,
losers,
soft on healthy defense,
fostering long-term economic disaster areas,
deniers of LeftBrain healthy nondual co-realities,
detractors from patriarchal capital-obsessed evolutionary self-aggrandizing theories
as more culturally important
than Matriarchal-ReGenerative CoOperation Stories
about Messiahs
and wise guys, royal as humble-servant birth
of healthy,
courageously cooperative,
mutually trusting and vulnerable ecopolitics.
Categories:
hypocrisies, bullying, culture, destiny, gospel,
Form:
Political Verse
When a nation cries, death rides the reaper is a stride, the loss of reasons in a Ludacris season, where men of nations think they can control the population, the feminine wild, bound to a white populist ideology of ignorance and irresponsibility.
The skeletal hands grace this nation, as technology is at play to pull its strings and prime mistakes, a nation tires to hold the flame, to regain a simpler reason a singular season, but is lost to passion parades of progressive expressions, the right hand of the fool the left hand of man, the one to bring insurrection to the crown, to our country, our town and trying to bring the nation down…
The seat of our heart, the home of our brave, we cry black tears, as the nation is bound and freedoms truncated, we wonder why our freedoms are called into question and lost to the Idiocracy, to attempt to enthrone a false theocracy of lies and hypocrites as we sit ide, hands under ass as we watch or celebrate the death of our democracy.
When a nation cries, something of ourselves dies, and death reaps as it strides, in this loss of reason, we fear a coming dry season, where men of nations think they can control and destroy, the legacies of lies, hypocrisies of the things that divide, blind us to our hearts and minds.
The truth shall prevail, the rights of humanity will be victorious, we shall not go gently into that goodnight, but reap our rewards, into the total of our dedication. The coming white will overcome. The facts will set you free!
Categories:
hypocrisies, allegory, allusion, analogy, anger,
Form:
Free verse
Life does not necessarily mature into timeless love,
just as yeast is not the entire evolutionary journey for bread,
and the Way may be part of, but not the entirety of,
the Beloved Community.
It is so interesting, for a nondualist at least,
that a profoundly radical Jewish teacher
would say He is the yeast
while We are the embodied bread;
He is the Way,
yet We are the Kingdoms and QueenEarth Shabbats at hand.
Then the men turn it around,
get it all dualistically, cause-effect backwards,
while the women probably knew this Messianic mentor
as bootstrapping our evolutionary fulfilling birthing process
of incoming and oncoming and ongoing cooperative co-messianism.
The patriarchs,
with theo-means not-ecological words in hand,
were too invested in their post-revolutionary need to distance themselves
from the then-powerful elitist threat of Judaic cultural power,
at least by comparison with their post-revolutionary
dualist-fundamentalist Either/Or departure
into before-Christ/after-Christ messianism-already-fulfilled
by the One
who taught himself as the intentional mentoring leaven,
and not the entire cooperative organic co-salvific loaf;
as the only Way He could speak of and for,
but not our entire EarthTribe Garden
of cooperative ecotherapeutic
co-redemptive messianism at hand.
Too bad the wives and mothers,
the nondualist gatherers and not so much the dualist hunters,
didn't have the education,
or perhaps even the verbal communication skills,
to write down their creolizing nondualist fulfillment narratives
of cooperative nurture,
to recall and cast a nondualist Messiah
who did not come to kill YHWH's Chosen People,
or His own culture,
the regenerative history flowing through his humane-divining
mindbody,
but to leaven with these Elders,
those who had no ecopolitical Win/Lose self-centered elitist hypocrisies
like the Pharisees and Sadduccees,
those who were not over-invested in the competitive change of Caesar's coin
from useful for cooperative consuming health
into iconic value-only for producing disembodied hoards of wealth,
and to leaven within us
as one continuously multiculturing
multigenerational
nondualistic-BothJewish/AndChristian
organic creolizing mindbody
of regenerative intention
and vast ecopolitically radical compassion;
like yeast evolving divinely humane bread.
Categories:
hypocrisies, christian, education, jewish, mentor,
Form:
Political Verse
When I distrust the hypocrisies of men and hate their society
And loathe the frivolity of thoughtless pets and brutality of beasts,
I’ll weigh the prospect of courting the salient stars,
To gaze at their beauteous smiles and frolic in their romantic treats.
The light years between us shall not be a bane,
Instead, the catalyst that makes the heart fonder.
Some dreamy stars do fall to the earth
And my soul often lifts to the skies on a swander.
As other men crawl into their faithless wives’ embrace,
I’ll desert the dark of my bedroom and walk out
Into the bush-clear grounds or any treeless space,
And there spend the long night ogling at the virgin stars.
Perhaps some galaxy will empathize with my friendless state
And cheer me up with their broad generous smiles,
And send one of them to come and be my loving mate
To end my long and lonesome wanderings in the night.
Even if no star falls to the ground within my time
I’m content to watch their clustered smiles in the sky,
For I’ll let my soul soar to their company night after night
As other men blight the earth with the curse of their cry.
Categories:
hypocrisies, grief,
Form:
Verse
JUST WRONG
Throughout my life’s journey, I chanced to see,
Many things to this day that bother me,
The things that chose the path of my destiny,
the path of life towards my Philanthropy
I saw at a grocery parking lot,
a young girl with an old lady, weather seething hot,
Swearing and belittling her own grandmother
a berating like I’ve never heard no other.
I saw a man mercilessly beating his dog,
Two policeman beating two black boys in a fog,
I saw in an abandoned parking lot,
Two parents stripping branches that they each had got,
Their teen daughter screamed out in the rear of their car,
As they both administered lashes and a life altering scar.
I saw a man teaching his 3 year old how to read,
His badgering comments spoken, made my heart bleed,
A black child in her classroom, smart as a whip,
Raising hands, trying to answer, yet constantly skipped,
And when overcome with dejection, hurtfully cried,
Seeing the favor upon the others her goddess teacher applied.
Scolded and made to feel she was a problem child,
Became jealous and disruptive and labeled wild.
I saw a tearful mother slapped by her child,
Fearfully tempered her voice pleading, all the whole while.
Seemingly entirely vacant of parental authority,
Asking her child’ “Please behave. You’re embarrassing me.”
These things and things alike, are all around,
indicative of a morale that is utterly cast down,
Our country spirals into a very dangerous spin,
As our society implodes by it’s poverties within,
Yet seemingly more powerful than money, political ability,
Leading our country into hatred and moral senility,
And the power of the stars, called celebrities,
Swaying all of America living, with heroic hypocrisies,
Yet the true heroes are struggling, and are underpaid,
And seem to be outnumbered by the media wave.
I just have to believe as in this life I go along,
That I am more than just a witness of what’s, just wrong.
Categories:
hypocrisies, change, community, corruption, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
Isolated from society with no real place to call home.
Alone and scared of what, i do not know.
I want a be free to camouflage that i am affected.
Withdrawing from the unknown, undetected.
Left to a society where hypocrisy is condoned.
I became a stranger to all i had known.
Escaping reality in order to stay sane.
Escaping judgement and ignorance.
It seems like everyone was a fan.
A fan of judging what they don't know.
Ignorance spread all over the place like grains of sand falling through the cracks in our broken hearts.
Home to me is where there is fast flowing tears because what mattered fell apart.
Home to me is many wasted years.
Tired of talking to the walls around me, when no one hears.
Trapped inside are our demons and all our fears.
This is where most of society calls home.
The foundations of hypocrisies have been sewn.
Many bridges burned along the way.
So evil could not cross the bridge or climb my wall today.
Crawling for a bit after i had to fall. At one point i lost it all.
My faith left defeated. My energy depleted. Left defenseless.
Some fences needed mending but i was too blinded, unable to see.
That I live here hoping of a home, a time where my mind was free; of a home, a time where i could go back to being me.
Categories:
hypocrisies, anxiety, identity, judgement, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
Concealing Silver Linings
Peaceful Painter:
With paintbrush in hand she leaned forward to paint the moon black
Exposing cold shoulders to an outcome abstract
To her dismay the light around the edges could not be concealed
For a light in the darkness cannot NOT be revealed
Darkness is as consuming as a hand that is sleight
Yet we can go blind by staring into the light
Chaos Ensues:
Running from the chaos that was happening in town
She kept tripping on the lies that were laying around
Landing on hypocrisies blanketing the ground
Surrounded by demons holding her down
Weather perpetually pushed or reluctantly hurled
She ran right off the edge of the world
Categories:
hypocrisies, confusion, desire, farewell, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
Across the Pond vetocracy makes the usual gridlock look more dangerous than any noisy
radio shockjock as this side of the mill Pond the 'Mother of Parliaments' that if it was would
make the scandal of expenses even more expensive in public esteem, is having a set-to
with the 'Gentlemen (and Ladies) of the Press' that wants no effective redress against its
excesses against the innocent young and old, the brave and the not so bold, so we come to
a pretty pass, that makes many despair at the hypocrisies of both the politicos and the
hacks....ur! ratatatat! or as you on the other farther shore may say, 'You dirty rats' to your
gridlock as we grimace and gripe at our less severe blessed island - and a bit -local fight.
Politics is 'the art of the possible', knowing that the way to hell is paved with good
intentions and that good people do disagree as to ideals as well as ways and means as the
moral high ground can be a disastrous landslip unless we think, we act, we try to
compromise without selling out others as well as ourselves, by avoiding that old curse of
self-righteousness that is often taken for being so damned righteous in our own myopias.
Categories:
hypocrisies, political,
Form:
Prose Poetry