Special Counsel will run the United States?
Are they the Puppet-masters or more stooges?
Will we see the ones who hate America,
first hand?
We know Joe will not make it, that Kamala
cannot fake it.
Distraction from Putin affirming the Deep State
plus (CIA) runs things.
That they blew up Nordstream.
Chance for Obama to shake the tree
and get timely figs-figured, cured.
Is it tit for tat, as Somalia's Omar is censured.
Now Kenya's boys activate their
wondertwin rings.
Election doubts waiting in the wings.
Until this day, your thoughts remain,
But are you a hero or a villain?
Are you one who laid his life
For his people or for his wife?
Your death paved for a revolution
But was it really the resolution?
Was it the quell for your people's grief
Or the death of their own belief?
Were you a martyr on the cross
Or to your dear land, you brought loss?
Were your great ideals really treasured
Or your critics were only censured?
May the greatness of your vision
Light the hearts of your congregation
This land needs no blood to spill
It does not need a life to kill
This land needs no honor to oppress
What it needs is a warm embrace
For in chaos, there's only death
But in peace there is free breath
August 21, 2023
In commemoration of this day and about 40 years ago
the joy we sought
has been denied
to overcome fear
let God’s light guide
the seat of God
is in our heart
so that is where
our quest should start
to tip toe into heart
thoughts must recede
that in trust we follow
wherever bliss beats lead
the table is laid
our ascent is assured
provided cravings of ego
are gently censured
head melded with heart
inner conflict ends
to the will of God
our presence bends
we see without mirrors
truth of inner light
as God bestows on us
spherical sight
We take no prisoners, for if they escape,
fears and desires may burrow deep in our mind
and then in stupor we will foolishly ape
suggestions proffered that grip us in their bind
and before we know it, disfigured's our shape,
so we nip in the bud, such thought forms unkind.
May the garden of our mind be thus nurtured,
lower mind censured and love and light treasured.
15-January-2023
"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Time rewind, loving touch of my mother
Snatched away by the remorseless fangs of time
That also did sadly smother, camaraderie with my brother
Ah, no matter, memory has now sounded it's mystical chime
Misty eyed I recall tender moments of childhood treasured
As through serpentine arduous pathways of life, l climb
How may pristine love and innocence be measured
Heart free from malice, childhood days were so carefree
By grace, feeling no angst or anger, when for faults censured
It was then during childhood years, that my joyous soul was free
I now oft try to rekindle those cherished moments in my mind
Vicariously however, dependent upon my fading memory
As I now flounder about through life, love bereft and spiritually blind
I yearn to resurrect the magic of blissful love and joy, left far behind
06-October-2022
Theme: Memory
Inspired by Constance La France’s contest
New Tyranny
The dawn, after the rain had trumpet its force on the old roof tiles
it ceased to a soft drizzle harmless and tender.
Yes, I know I should get up at seven steeped as I´m a protestant work ethic.
Overcome by laziness, I slept for two hours more.
In my drowsiness, thought about how our freedom has been restricted by the internet,
our thought and secrets are no longer our property but shared by authorities that want
to know our innermost thoughts.
We are prisoners of an all-embracing society that will not tolerate thoughts
other than banal comments about a friend`s birthday.
What we heralded as a great instrument for communication
is perverted and spied on by our leaders.
Free speech only exists for those who have nothing to say and accept living
in the land of the convention.
Nothing can be nobler if we demand our right
not to be censured
and called seditious because we will not be trapped
in the trivial acceptance of perceived lies.
The dawn, after the rain had trumpet its force on the old roof tiles
it ceased to a soft drizzle harmless and tender.
Yes, I know I should get up at seven steeped as I´m a protestant work ethic.
Overcome by laziness, I slept for two hours more.
In my drowsiness, thought about how our freedom has been restricted by the internet,
our thought and secrets are no longer our property but shared by authorities that want
to know our innermost thoughts.
We are prisoners of an all-embracing society that will not tolerate thoughts
other than banal comments about a friend`s birthday.
What we heralded as a great instrument for communication
is perverted and spied on by our leaders.
Free speech only exists for those who have nothing to say and accept living
in the land of the convention.
Nothing can be nobler if we demand our right
not to be censured
and called seditious because we will not be trapped
in the trivial acceptance of perceived lies.
Image of Puzzle Match Missing provided by Pixabay.
Poetless II
Poetic Form: Couplet
Blank pages strewed, across the desk of pains,
in a tongue-tied state, censured writer wanes.
The silent voice echoes hollow inked wells,
of dying words crept from a mind that quells.
Overwrought grips, scrawl at piles of long since,
mayhaps some gleam ... sort of sign to convince.
The broken clock held, tells that time does not,
while a mute welcomes, what songbirds still got,
Rambled insights ... a house filled in guises,
shadowed bound words, the heart vaporizes.
In rhythmless moments, just proved the resolve,
pen floors speechless, writer's blankness evolve.
2021 May 18
Gone are the days where a voice can be heard
All messages dissected to find meaning blurred
Someone find offense from any word that is said
And from that offense Their objective is spread
Freedom of speech is a thing of the past
Cancel Culture’s hell bent to ensure it wont last
The snowflakes have spoken and the world now takes heed
The Me-Tooers and naysayers have heard and agreed
If I speak out about anything an attack I’ll elicit
If I keep my mouth shut somehow I’m complicit
So what do you do as one of the damned
The world has gone mad and it seems like its planned
7/23/20
I wonder how it will spin?
When they tell of that spring.
Eyes will meet with a nod and a wink
In keeping their lies in sync.
Grandkids will tweet
About the time in the street
When no one came out
Neither whisper nor shout
I wonder how would it spin
If enough of us knew
The political poison
They feed us by spoon.
Six feet apart in
A line to the booth
The people, enslaved,
Memorized the truth.
Some ran saying change the guard..
But now..
I wonder how it will spin
If the facts are ever sewn in?
Of how they avoided a war
By diverting our thought
With a global pandemic
That kept those in power
Feeding scraps from their table
In the shape of a dollar.
Six feet apart in
A line to the booth
The people, enslaved,
Memorized the truth.
Some ran saying change the guard..
But now..
I wonder how it will spin?
When they tell of that spring.
Eyes will meet with a nod and a wink
In keeping their lies in sync.
Grandkids will tweet
About the time in the street
When no one came out
Neither whisper nor shout
Clockwise for sure
For time must march on
And the thoughts of the disillusioned
Are censured, then gone.
When are we going to learn
We need to shut our trap
What is it with you
Your snide tone
Your petty remarks
Everything we say is ignored
Censured or corrected
Cause everything we say is wrong
And you think you're entitled
~ What the hell
We wish we could spit it out
And tell you off
Just cut you off
As if we need you
Yet...
We continue to put up with you
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
EXPRESSED CENSURE CRITICISM - -
All though I seek your approval;
I am certain to give you my best;
Never, the less I am in removal;
Above all ties to my conquests;
How shall I choose a choice?
And who shall listen;
When every sin has a different voice
What am I getting Inter-vision?
My mind is captive;
Take me as man I am;
My thoughts less attractive;
To wit here I stand;
Above all ties to my conquests;
As still I seek your approval;
I am certain to give you my best;
Judge me not nor allow me reproval;
Within the methodism,of this verse journalism;
I seek not expressed censured criticism;
10/2/19
For Give Me Your Best New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet |
Laughing during mutual intimacy
Yet intimate war-song sang daily
History knows no detentions for it
The first censured; second is justice
Polished scissors
no longer lay on dusty shelves,
but shine
in repression's light,
cutting, slashing, removing
words
of substance and action,
calling for change.
Good words,
having stood the test of time,
now violate
an arbitrary community standard.
Principles,
having built societies,
are judged to be obsolete
and discarded--
to be removed
by polished scissors.
Paltry poetic presidential prattlings on poultry playing
cockalorums chasing chickens, censured to castigate the cockerals,
tricky tray turbo turkey tidbits tentanize the titillations;
wild wispy winds whisper worldly wasted wiry winsome wiles
dancing delights deluding delicate demigod domiciles,
twittering tweets teasing tenacious tantalizing tongue twisters
residing riddled rattled ransom rasping revolving roars,
minority middle men meltdown midst macrocosmic mayhem
Washington's wonderland weeps wreckage within waiting walls.
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