REFLECTIONS OF A WATERED ELDER
IN AND OF WE GREENS ??
Like the bright green grass,
We continue onward growth:
God, fertilizing.
Our youth, moist and fresh,
Are in dire need of being dried and
Cured to withstand today's trying times.
Void of Rights of Passage–barely rooted
And anchored in the sustaining energy
Of ourstory, our youth have become like
Unchartered ships in aimless serpentine waters,
Whorlwinding in a socio-psycho, bigoted cesspool:-
In Proverbs and Psalms
It has been collectively written:
“Train a [child] in the way
[They should go…[and] that the Lord
Is [the] light in [their] salvation;
[Whom] should [they] fear?”
The resurrection of the Village waits,
And the youth too; come, fellow elders,
Let us mirror and reflect ourstory’s journey
In a way our youths may envision their
Present-day destination: Least we fail
In ourstory’s present journeying:-
??: Extended family name
The POTUS, "Napoleon Bonaspur",
has once again created quite a stir.
The Lincoln Reflecting Pool
looks just like a big cesspool
and that makes him look like an amateur.
ECHOING THE DREAM AND OVERCOMING
(A FLOWING TANKA TO DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING)
It’s Doctor King’s Day;
Let’s give him echoing praise:
Nourishing The Dream:-
Through today’s nightmarish threats,
Let’s ensure the Dream’s coming:-
King’s voice echoing
Throughout Sisyphean trials,
We shall overcome:-
We’re as the waxing moon:
Moving onto fulfillment:-
Although King is dead,
His dream streams reality:
Deeply canvassing:-
Oh yes, dreams do become true;
Dying, he canvassed his will:-
On that balcony,
Where King was freely murdered,
A deep canvas echoed
From that balcony-mountain:
“I’ll be gone, but you'll get there.”
Martin sowed a dream;
Nightmares are not to be reaped:-
You reap what is sown:
We’ll reap from Martin’s garden;
Not from Donald’s plowed cesspool:-
Reaping King’s harvest,
Up the mountaintop we go:
Our eyes on the prize:-
Our Drum Major echoing,
We shall [indeed], overcome:-
In God’s own humane world time often comes
when life is mutilated by despicable instincts,
people plunge in cesspool of vice and sin.
Dislodged empathy finds its way astray in chaos
as morality is defaced by harsh intolerance
and kinship disintegrates within abhorrence.
In the cramped squalid suffocating state
the system of severe supremacy emerges,
holds the reins of rigid governance
when even the thoughts are imprisoned.
Enwrapped within collapsed wings of caged birds,
the confined hearts crumble quietly
in the abyss of controlled isolation.
For the helpless captured by dreamless darkness
where even the moon must be permitted to shine,
thin streaks of self-respect get smothered
like the rays of hope entwined with sparks of dissent,
extinguished by the strict surveillance of fear
in the situation of silent submission.
Deprived of the draft of ethical air,
destroying the tenets of human values,
people with blank faces under watchful eyes
walk as shadows of nonentity with muted souls,
trying to train their minds what not to believe,
when even the thoughts are imprisoned
as freedom becomes a memory.
The whirlwind rolled in rings at the eyewall,
Wild gale blew through the open tropical field.
I'd forgotten to close the windows tight,
And the ensuing rain inundated each inch of my niche.
The hurricane hurriedly stripped the veld of its peace.
Dry air pacified the expanse of the grassland,
The massive flood drained into a sunken cesspool,
My thoughts swayed to the windows the storm had slammed,
Now a zephyr traverses the meadow's breath;
Calmness fills the eye of the once-raging storm.
If they’re testy? Play the fool.
Let those words line a cesspool.
Shade cannot rattle a cloud,
it remains plotting head bowed.
Politicians and diapers must be changed often, and for the same reason.
Mark Twain
no wonder Washington is a stinking cesspool!
Adam and Eve were kicked out of the garden, then they started eating meat
Away from plentiful fruits and vegetables, they started a fleshly retreat
Unwittingly sliding down Jacob''s ladder
Man falling from heaven down into dark matter
Away from the light of spirit
Closer to the root in this world and no longer intuit
Taking deep dives and swims in the infamous cesspool
Aimlessly moving through waste, playing a devil's fool
Now man is eating science projects like a sweet treat
So many manufactured food-like items that's Beyond Meat
Just wandering and meandering; meandering and wandering
A futile external search for sustenance, peace, and truth finds man perpetually scampering
Lost Paradise
Paradise Lost
How much time and energy will man exhaust?
Lost Paradise
Paradise Lost
How long will man pay this hefty cost?
Poet and saint Dunstan was great, pushed in a cesspool.'
He arose.' He survived he was no fool.' Archbishop He would be'
Counsel to Kings. Often gave he! humble yet strong he
Ordered lexicons studied songs, grabbed Satan's nose; with
Hot tongs.' From his cell of five feet by three.' He moved
On to Cantebury.'
when the puppet masters pull the strings,
its death and destruction to all living things.
when the bombs and missiles are deployed,
mankind’s virtues, are totally destroyed.
judgements are freely, bought and sold
to the one whose veins runs icy cold.
onwards the machine of war forever rolls and roll,
while the poor suffer it's destruction, and bloody toll.
all this destruction led’s the innocent to grieve,
humanity has disappeared; it has taken its leave.
due to mans greed, and add corruption,
the results are humanities, malfunction.
the path led’s man to the goal absolute,
now hatred has grown it`s poisonous fruit,.
war delivers, and then man does shiver
drowning in the cesspool of the river.
Poison Ivy
Academia …
cesspool
of deception
harbinger
— of lies
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
Occam’s Edge
Plurality
without necessity
— pandering time
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
The Right Fork
Newness …
birth mother
to anticipation
(From ‘Calling Me Home:’ May, 2024)
The soul of this nation is crumbling in decay,
and like all our hopes and dreams, it’s rotting away.
The road to happiness has a no-entry sign,
So don’t try to tell me that everything is fine.
All the signs on Main Street say sorry but we’re closed,
how the hell we ended this way nobody knows.
They promised America would be great again,
all I got is this cesspool that we’re living in.
The store down on the corner has shuttered its door,
policemen and firemen say they can help no more.
The trees in the forests have withered and are dead,
smoke has my head spinning, my eyes are turning red.
The oceans are drying, and all the fish are gone,
hard to tell the difference between dusk and dawn.
Those last words from you are echoing in my head,
while nailed upon that cross with open wounds that bled,
You looked toward Heaven with a heart pure and true,
“forgive them oh Lord, for they know not what they do.”
As I sat at the table in the cafeteria I was eager to feast on the food staring at me. I was oblivious to anyone around. A hysterical laughter caught my attention and pulled me out of my cocooned world. I looked towards the direction from where the laughter came. There were three men seated deep into a cesspool of friendliness. It wasn’t that that was the highlight of that summer noon. It was the table adjacent to theirs. I was frozen for some minutes. The old lady and the young lad in the middle of a conversation threw me off balance. I could see my grandmother talking to me, telling me pastime stories and teaching me my fast-eroding culture. I could hear her calling out to me to come to her garden to aid her in transplanting her purple flowers. Tears streamed down my eyes.
The world is a cesspool of complexities,
We are caught in a web of perplexities,
The deeper we search for explanations,
The more akin we are to contemplations.
Life is a bed of anxieties.
The closer we are to the light,
The more opposition we have to fight,
Life's tempest is not an illusion,
Though opulence fronts the conclusion,
We push through life's sea with every might.
No sage has seen the end of the book,
No matter how further they look,
We go into each day with unrelenting hope,
Taking watchful steps along each slope,
No one is perfectly skilled at throwing the hook.
February 24, 2023.
“King Lie”
His name was Lie.
He carried his name high.
He could not deny
The lie he led.
He gleamed from
Cheek bone to cheek bone;
When no one opposed
The lies he led,
When there was no truth to be told.
Why should anyone care?
He thought
“If no one cares
I can be bold.
More lies to be told.
I’ll never grow cold.”
“Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha!” He laughed.
Knowing that he lied,
And no one died.
I don’t have to hide
In a cesspool of pride.
Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha!
My name is Lie,
And I really do lie......
I am the King of lies
No one will pass me by.
What fools they are.
I am the biggest lie.
I lie about this and I lie about that.
I lie, I lie, I lie.
Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha!
Take hold my hand.
Let’s go lying today.
Won’t that be fun?
This is not a pun.
Let’s go buy a gun.
That will be so much fun.
We’ll lie about this and we’ll lie about that.
Tomorrow we’ll sit and make law
For all who don’t lie....
Is indeed a Great Honor.
Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha!
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