Best Visionaryautumn Poems
Time travel has always fascinated man
Could UFOs be steered by human hands
Consider this premise before you say no
So called “grays” resemble human embryos
Evolution proceeds, gene pool depleted
Mind power expanded but bodies weakened
Future man looks back in a quest to erase
Effects of the technology we embrace
With smog blocking sun’s rays, skin has turned gray
Bodies thin as meat exits the food parade
Reproduction is challenged by low-grade genes
Sad Earthlings search the past and like what they see
Tan, healthy bodies adorned by hairy manes
Fertile women who suckle innocent babes
Men of great strength who clear forests with axes
Strong immune systems when a virus attacks
In sore need of genetic material
Large-brained grays devise a means for time travel
Abductees are beamed to aircraft by bright rays
Frightened while forced to donate their sperm and eggs
Time travelers say nothing, perhaps ashamed
To be stealing from ancestors in this way
Capacity for learning greatly enhanced
But the grays know nothing of sex or romance
When farmers find signs of mutilated cattle
Such evidence should not provoke a call to battle
If future man’s life is genetically revived
Meat may be required to keep humans alive
Don’t hide in terror when you see colored lights
Spinning in circles on chilly autumn nights
Close encounters, but abductees’ lives are spared
Returned to their homes by captors who care
Consider the fate of new generations
If you’re called upon to make a “donation”
Experiments grays perform may seem absurd
But they may be trying to save our own world
Oh, empty quill
On brittle parchment
Why with such zeal
Do you deride me?
Such power to prevent
A single word
From being scratched out
Repudiating inspiration
For the moment
Forbidding me
To imbibe of breath
Tell me of that
With which I have sinned
That warrants this pain
This censure…
Necessitates from accusation
This allegation
Which I must answer
Before judgment
Surges forth
Washing over me
If I bloody those pages
Dirty your eyes
Holding my verse
Contemptible
I shall answer you
Without vanity’s mask
To abstain from
Penning my verse
Upon your note paper
My compositions
Will be now penned
In the blood of autumn frost
On the windblown foliage
Contented throughout
That no evil can be read
On wind scattered verses
Of me…
I am blind, I cannot see
The faces in the mask of nobility
The truth of life –the reality
Apathy and hatred’s frailty
I can’t feel the poison in the air
Of cruelty, greed and injustice
Causing anguish and despair
And political power’s edifice
I can’t hear the cry of souls
And desperation in autumn of life
Someone achieving selfish goals
And the horror of conflict and strife
Colours of butterflies and rainbows
Are meaningless to my curiosity
It’s darkness, spring comes or goes
I can’t see ruthlessness and barbarity
Rain drops from punctured sky
Tears down the face of gloom
Dews rolling the cheeks of bloom
I can neither appreciate nor decry
Am I flawed or lucky as blind?
I feel tranquility of no sort
I see viciousness of no kind
I recognize them not with senses alert