The coal mine of drainstream life.
Is predating the Canary in journalistic
Terms' under a banking strike.' De-banked
As per the central plank, of an atrack
Now i'm not political' yet i see free speech
As most critical.' Its abhorrent to so be'
And quite un-holy, as much, as is the vatican] see.' This cabalistic attack, a stab
In freedoms back, here my only agenda
Is that coherent reporting be not constrained by otherwise profligate spenders, wake up be aware, we need
Free speech forever and always to be there.' its jyst so splendid and i for
One hold it very dear.!
keen orphic reader
cabalistic tendencies
mystical and keen
enigmatic strong
a master of the occult
lively prophecies
Who will try to comprehend?
Appreciate the moon’s character
She is hushed, quite soundless
Inept to express her frame of mind
Through the paper and the pen…
But she envisions us her spirits
In the form of vivid sunspecs,
Different contours and diverse chapters.
She is vibrant
With all the monumental voyages;
The children stories we heard
Made us wrathful, left us wondering
About her cabalistic charm
Supernatural world
No less than that of Harry Potter’s
Her secret, the dark side
Not discernible to us has now been uncovered
Evasive of all the truth
About the enigmas of the moon
But will the moon approve
Will the moon approve?
I stand alone a barking tree, where silent sorrows of ripples flee,
No one hears my calamity, wearing weeps of my raped reality…
Branches droop to ice-cold ground, solitudes surface of their drowned,
Abysmal anguish of leaves have browned, lacrimal echoes of their sound.
Randomized reflections of rivers flow, suffering scourges in their woe,
Ripples raging in their row, creating cabalistic contrasts as they grow…
The forest dense as to populate, the seeds of seduction must copulate,
All is dormant until the eyes dilate, weeping willows that magistrate.
I accept my life near the lamenting lake, weathering wounds as I wake,
The wood whispers as to ache, secluded shadows share the snake…
Wandering waters that ripples bring, vines that struggle in their swing,
Alone in my salvaged spring, where sparrows segregate in their sing.
Gif # 1
02.25.2020
Placed 1'st & POTD...Thank You
Systemic symmetries of destruction,
gorging with thoughtless consumption…
Within the bowls of corruption,
enslaved by the sanguinary skins of seduction…
Butterflies bloom to demonic deeds,
of the feeding frenzy that surely bleeds…
Voices that spread their saintly seeds,
only entrapped within wrangled weeds.
Fake media the soup of the day,
cabalistic constructing illusions they portray…
While the appetites of the abysm display,
as the deceptive delusions foreplay…
Habitual hunger that they manifest,
of the manic misconceptions we ingest…
For we suckle on the beastly breast,
as they occupy the obedient oppressed.
Jan.04.2019
Food for thought
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
A euphoric emptiness that lasts forever
An eternity trapped in tangled time
Emotions that fly through the nilpotent never
A lasting love with a calamitous climb
Floating memories that sail through space
Where tears are shed and shadows weep
And saddened souls have lost their place
Within the dumpsters of the desolate deep
Mind and matter creating crystalline hells
There demons roam with a restless rule
Where blood turns cold with crusted cells
Slowly salivating with their demonic drool
Can love be found in this cabalistic cave
Or is it laboriously lost but only to enslave.
May.30.2016
Byword
(I)
Tittle tattle tales rattle.
Cabalistic cabals in cans:
Malicious mélange of melees.
Mummers murmur, mumchance mumble.
Mummichog: the perfidious Fundulus heteroclitus-
For this parlance is pestilence:
For your words, for their words,
For your walls, for their walls.
But for their worlds, for your worth.
(II)
Malicious mischief shrouds in mesmerism,
Whilst her malignity molds she forgot unfold.
But the morbid medalled she, instead to merge,
Maintains calumnies, which not calmative in anyway.
Mummichog: the perfidious Fundulus heteroclitus-
For this parlance is pestilence:
For your words, for their words,
For your walls, for their walls.
But for their worlds, for your worth.
(III)
A candid parley and caring suits…
Indeed better parallel match -no losers, all winners-
For cases in conformity and un-confound.
That’s peace, that’s reign, to just justice of the peace.
Mummichog: the perfidious Fundulus heteroclitus-
For this parlance is pestilence:
For your words, for their words,
For your walls, for their walls.
But for their worlds, for your worth.
14/3/1434 ___15/1/2014
©Abdulhafeez Oyewole.
Another simpleton in this aimless lunacy
Narcotic this reality is imbibed with but so much i love this narcomania
Occassionally Odious to myself but more so to those i love
Ugly or pretty it does depend on your opinion, to myself just gorgeous
Cabalistic, mystic, unrealistic even spiritual is my altruistic life
Hachalia truly i am but Hananeel i consider your awesome mercy
Eagerness i display to the coming times when your love will make me an immortal
Karezza is the way i will please you who are a killcrop when my love is concerned; our
Adoration is mutual; me i worship your essence and you my ignorance
Ribbons of light rained down tonight,
From a moonless, inky sky.
So bright they were as they blew about,
So near and yet so high.
I watched transfixed in wonderment,
As they twisted and billowed out,
And wondered at their merriment,
As they glowed and danced about.
I'm stricken by mystical beauty,
As they writhe across the sky;
Twisting, turning, shooting, churning,
As through the night they fly.
They seem to be a living thing,
At play in the midnight blue;
In a cabalistic ocean,
Of deepest, darkest hue;
Bringing out their colors,
Like a rainbow come alive,
And I'm so blessed to see them,
As they bend and twist and dive.
The wonders of God's handiwork,
Nature at it's best,
Is shown to me when we're alone,
And I'm My Maker's guest.
Judy Ball
"Then God said, 'Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days and years."
Genesis 1:14
And It Was So.
Remain hidden from me the uncertainties of tomorrow,
Whether I’ll have enough or shall be forced to borrow;
Whether it shall hatch the pregnant egg of dreams
Or shall remain hidden from me its cabalistic themes.
I fear not the unknown prospect of disaster,
Whether they slow in their coming or race faster;
Ordain upon me eternal bliss of things beyond my ken,
Whether it shall reward my adroit pen
Or shall be swept to perdition before its ink pays,
To mark the end of my sorrowful days.
Tomorrow, the best for you I do hope,
With you I’ll endeavor to cope.
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