entrance in-trance not for sycophants
take my thoughts in highlight
in the low light of the night's glare
find solace in a central spine
that unknown tell that tugs you in
sweet, veiled, thin ~
no perimeter edges to teeter upon
no concocted thought spooled or spun
more quivering fragments
from corners of eyes
radiating ideas
persisting on scarred sighs
gift me your entirety
nothing less
is my best guess
on how enchantment fixes
stitches
glitches
bewitches
unhitches
until
you are welcomed to my world ~
Inspired by Localization of Graphic Mobiles I by František Kupka
He formulated a delicate scheme,
So that he could obtain vital funds
From gullible, if friendly virtual persons
And spend his life in idle, useless pastimes.
In his egregious vanity, he concocted stories.
Thus, he would meditate on pulling strings
Of his listeners' consciences.
Insane in his delirium, he would meditate
His famous tales read newspapers for inspiration,
Send messages to all he judged to be ripe
For a monetary gift to help assuage his need:
Alas, not many took the bait.
Occasionally, someone would send
A miserable donation. Until he found
His haven in an old kindly woman who felt pity
And send him a thousand-dollar gift.
Profound words of thanks ensued.
He was courteous hoping to get more,
Inventing a lack of funds to rent his home.
FICTION?
Horses galloping
in the barren country
long scorched
by conflagrations.
Carbonised bracken
and naked trees cry
gnarled in bewitchment
of incantations concocted
around smoky cauldrons
broiling with the fury
of serpent fangs
and necrotic poisons
that consume
the golden hour
Heaven's artistry in motion.
At my yearly review, she hands me a recap of my performance.
After a year of working weekends
overtime on short notice-
going the x-tra yard
taking on x-tra projects
dodging H.R (for the most part).
I would be getting .73 cents an hour raise.
My face must've turned gargoyle
because the newbie supervisor
lowered her eyes and apologized.
Nervously adding that she had no hand in determining raises.
Her pimply head nodding toward the ceiling....
Implying the flaccid raise was concocted by the ones upstairs...
Where underworked blonde birds and plump business casual lived.
23 years of work .73 cents an hour raise...
The vending machine on the first floor has candy bars for a buck twenty-five.
I think I'll go celebrate
yeeha.
We all want equality of freedom
Yet they boo Africans of racism
How come colour concocted a disease
Day by day, we continue recording deportees
Even in our own theatre
At those who dressed native; we flutter
But we go nutter
To foreign dress; as we mutter admiringly like an orator
Not our culture or its prestige we groove on
More confident to countermove and condemn
Yet we cherished to be one
To achieve the counterterrorism is what am still to fathom
It seems we wish to forget our Origin
Then if the foundation is faulty
How would we help our dudgeon
When we do not live for our dreams' actuality
Cat three-tooth, cat stone-deaf, cat sidewinder walk,
Old Bealman stalked the croaking, the croaking,
with forepaws meek stroking
airs of a summer cool night.
Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Bealman—frog fisher & free.
Delphinium, the roses, lupine interposes
a shadow of fortressed green leaf
disguises the notion my Bealman supposes—
to seize, dismember it through,
make self-concocted, dishering frog stew.
Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Bealman—frog fisher & free.
Night hours accounting, morning’s surmounting,
a bird warning Bealman, his patience to thin.
Croaking still blending, a flower stalk was bending,
two legs, peaking out, sent Bealman straight in.
Bealman, Oh my Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Frog fisher & free.
I saw Bealman beaming; I saw Bealman beaming.
How cats manage beaming I’ll wonder again.
Since Bealman was twenty, any beaming is plenty.
I loved my old Bealman, my frog fisher friend.
Bealman, Bealman, my meow dear Sealman,
Frog fisher & free.
I am here..To rip up any carefully concocted notions.' To stamp on obcenitys' and dis-abuse all and
Sundry of sepia toned views, of
Disgusting historical humans who
Have been hitherto venerated as
Almost God.? If not as replacements'
Indeed I will rip the rose tinted glasses
From your very noses ' And trample on
Your toes'es.' In order to wake you up.'
As indeed all heaven knows'es.)
And thats just for starters'
So help me God.!
Petty indifferences invade your perception;
To cloud the pathways of your mind.
So that those delusions you've concocted,
Assault what’s left behind.
The trifling narrow mindedness you coddle,
Gives these fallacies their birth.
You forget your responsibilities,
When you can't recognize your self worth.
When you start barking orders;
Your ignorance comes to call!
I need no play by play;
I've no need to be told at all.
You’re giving them authority;
To hold your intelligence at bay.
Clearly I am not your enemy;
It's your anger leading you astray.
Prioritize all that rot!
Detour that confusion; get some peace.
Stop dwelling on trivial nonsense so that your problems will decrease.
Give and take as you command; it builds healthy respect.
Compromise always has the upper hand when it’s anger you reject.
Worrying is from your lack of faith;
You should never empathize your stress.
You can't let that last straw break your back,
You'll make your life a mess.
Don't take everything so critical!
Relax, you have to let it go!
Let’s sync together, you and I;
I’m your team mate, not your foe!
I have so little time
It seems
I wake up half way through
My dreams
Awake I fear not
Demon screams
But those concocted
By pre-teens
Or worse
The subtle facial memes
Of ever changing
Toddler schemes
Then with stealth
I spring the trap
A story told
Before a nap
'I think, therefore I am!'
I write to bang and clang,
to play with words, cast spells.
Wrangle and entangle readers,
with thoughts dredged from memories,
resonating, reverberating within selves,
aligned on shelves, waiting to join in.
An audience of thinkers shaken not stirred,
by the clang and jar of poetic,
rhythms, rhymes, images and ideas.
Rendered with razzmatazz and syncopation,
in the written words rendered,
improvised, and concocted in a group session.
On a stage, on a page,
of prismatic selves,
jamming and jarring,
banging and clanging,
jangling with Mr Joe,
in worn out shoes.
Afraid,
that no one is listening, or
that no one,
really, truly, bluesy cares?
Emerging from my teens
I had a head full
of ghosts to escape from -
inhabitants of an inner world
I kept to myself. Future life
was over there,
at the end of a train line,
a long road, the last port
of call on a ship's long voyage.
I could never get far enough
away - they always
found me hiding in some
masquerade, a clever cover
concocted to conceal -
at times I even fooled myself.
Mirrors were a bane,
they told the truth
and so I learned to look away.
A lifetime on
they are still with me but now
I know each by name.
There are days
when they draw close
and become weepy
as if seeking love,
though still afraid to leave
the refuge of my shadow.
Morning Musings
Miracle Man
1/2/2025
Morning thoughts drift,
seeking guidance or direction.
Unsure of destination,
they fend off deflection.
Hoping 2025 will be as tasteful,
as some newly concocted confection.
Also, thoughts that might tempt,
are quickly met with rejection.
Could careless Carla cook a cake
her daughter Dora would adore
then feed to friends at Friday's feast,
which celebrates school's student-stars?
Her daughter Dora would adore
if cooking Carla could come through
and bake without the batter burned
then feed to friends at Friday's feast
a cake concocted carefully
to make more merry midday's meal,
which celebrates school's student-stars.
So care, took Carla, crafting cake ...
dessert her daughter Dora dropped!
Infinite and enticing is the world at large :
Full of curious, motley marvels that enrich,
Appease and alleviate with divine charge,
The eager, stirred soul at the varied pitch ;
Live spirit ever cherishes the ideal kind;
Pleasures of one are most often the pain
Of others, who choose never to dwell
Or step into any nook of an alien domain ;
The reaches of the heaven and the hell
Are but the concocted portals of the mind
Absolute liberty exacting callous decadence
To seek the needs and impulses unruly,
In vying with others, caused the providence
To intervene with the commandments holy;
From Paleocene to the space- epoch proud,
Between the stones and the missiles wicked
Strode all weaponry grinning with vicious hate
From across the deserts and lands sacred,
Came forth Revealers and Pathfinders great,
To proclaim, recoup and restore equity aloud
One might win, and with great gains too,
In all conflicts with Nature and mankind;
Yet with stretching arms and power true
How far will the real success go ,and find
Him as a victor in his conflict with himself..?
If only you knew the feel of a zephyr,
With its current swooping around hillsides
Ruffling the spruce trees everywhere,
Or descend downwards towards verdant vales
Where flowers bloom all through the year.
If only you knew what the oceans utter
As wonderful waves smash into each other,
Or roll nonchalantly towards the bays,
Destroying sand castles or wiping up
The poor love letters which were written there.
If only you knew the various sounds of Earth,
The laughter of little children playing in our parks,
The parade of grown-ups commemorating feasts,
The sounds of aeroplanes fighting for supremacy,
Whilst on the ground tanks rumble on firing at will.
If only you knew the evil concocted by selfish persons,
Where kindness seems to be at a premium.
Yet I discern others who are compassionate
And help others less fortunate than themselves.
How grateful receivers of good works will be.
If only you knew how many angels fly above
Around the silver stars that orbit in perfect harmony.
Angels that care for this poor land which
We have ruined successfully through our unwanted trash.
While food is thrown away when others die in famine and pain.
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