the soul star and jugular notch
wish to confer and so they do
formless presence simply keeps watch
as bliss mists continue to coo
so we let this dance continue
An office is entrusted,
not owned.
It exists to shield the powerless,
not to comfort the powerful.
When the law bows to wealth,
justice becomes decoration.
For power without virtue
is only permission to harm.
A guardian who defends the guilty
learns too late
that titles do not cleanse the soul.
The cries of women
do not vanish in silence.
They wait.
The suffering of children
does not expire with time.
It records names.
Authority is not measured
by loyalty to power,
but by courage to oppose it.
History does not ask
why one complied.
It only notes
that one did.
To abandon conscience
for position
is to lose both.
And now the people ask—
not in anger,
but in grief—
Do you possess the weight
this office demands?
A title cannot confer honor
where conscience is absent.
So the question lingers,
heavy as history itself:
Are you fit to guard the law,
when the law needed guarding
from you?
And when memory speaks,
it speaks without mercy.
Not as accusation—
but as fact.
Delicious winds blew questions
out of my contemplating hands.
I saw pieces, cloud caught,
sink inside soft, puffy mounds.
Without a why, I cried on
hard but receptive land.
What I sensed my faith knew,
I would never understand.
When feeling partly cloudy
my attitude loses melody.
Opaqueness gathers aerosol
particles of confusion.
Moods must self-forage while
ponderings wander to confer
with logic's billowing haze.
This is ever the system when
intuition shush-whispers truth.
Believe I, we met somewhere before!
Odd times—just the matter of, think I.
Bye I said, bye you said, talked again?
Evenly eve in the skies was mixed up,
Hope I, I never confer you a goodbye.
Hi Kendall, thanks for the message
Common Flows
He shopped worlds as winds
Inside barrels of pen whites
Doubtful surrender tender in decree
Whole dime poignant
Deliver in tiles rebuttal
Confer disappointed moisture
Reprieve indecisive
I'm coming home within
Enjoy!
Free formed American letters
Aisled constitution
Assent
Report
Confer
Signature of alphabet.
Legislation
Derivative of signatures
Posthaste
Carriage
Distribution of wages
Post War Conference
Numerical Assignments concur
Exchange of freedom
Mandated registration for return
Postmaster
Post mastered
Door frame
Hearth
Circulation of the times
Of America
Objective as Coordinate
In the midst of my loneliness
I find myself plagued by my fears
Altered to seek for love
In places where my soul be dead
In the midst of my loneliness
I am a slave to my thoughts
In a dream I am dragged
by a rope to drink from dirty water
In the midst of my loneliness
I feel the roots
Underneath my feet
Tangling me while I seek answers
I wait patiently for a light to glimmer at my corner
With glimpse of hope as tears run in my chicks
And heavy is the heart as I drown in my sorrows
When will this dawn break?
Beloved I warn you of habbits
That may seem elegant at first
That flow slowly like water to disturb
The tranquility of our life's
I also confer to you the secret of life
Concealed in the blood of the lamb
there is an end
repetitive engaged
newer orders
where we come from
is where nothing returns
the service of birth
to not come home
on foreign soil
only to war
only for war was i thought of
this one will not win
this strategy of me
a world
they enjoy and toy with me you will
toil till death does its part with you
you tend to my munitions
i confer and advance
you engaged me
and again i gain ground
no fence?
know fence
no place
mine
handless land, crawling
time honored minute, non traditional
warfares itself upon the service
none shall attend
being built in a bottle
speak
wordplay was my thing
emphasis in capitals
helped to make it sing-
alliteration my choice
to sound a Christian voice
**Connections
Confront,clash,collide
COMBAT !
Cold shoulder,chill,cool
CUT-OFF !
Cry,crave,collect
CALL-ON !
Constant,compassion,consider
CHARITY !
Confer,commune,converse
COMMUNICATE !
Convene,concert,consensus
CONCORD !
COVENANT ! CHRIST ! CHURCH !
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
Anointed in Kerosene to confer in agony with ignited desecration of mortal flesh to bone, seared by melting anguish writhe blistering contortions through a suppressed discomfort in furious continual thresh heshers pernicious by physical immolation.
Written on Apr/27/2024
If mothers didn't bear children,
we wouldn't hear their screams
while they're laughing aloud
and are having lots of fun;
love them and be always blessed,
sparkle enthusiasm and dreams!
If lovely spring stopped blooming,
how sad we would feeling emptiness;
and strolling down the flowerless paths
we wouldn't hear a bird warbling!
If we only loved ourselves, not others
it would be the shallowest existence;
how inhumane would be such a negligence
when the indifference harms inner feelings!
If all we are after is self-gratification,
we miss the sense and essence of logic;
we must love sincerely, not with forced intention...
trashing worthless thoughts that aren't authentic!
If we considered empathy and shunned all differences
to deter prejudices that confer altruism and diffidence,
we would in no time elevate love to the ultimate bliss;
where disdain stirs anger, goodwill instills confidence!
If this increasing darkness conveys a fear not chided,
as ghostly shadows conspicuously confer mystery:
do I hide or firmly resist being threatened
by their miserable aspect of susceptibility?
Anxiety builds fret inside first slowly, then rapidly?
I squeeze and snuggle a fluffy pillow deep red,
expecting the worse nightmare to appear;
agitated by eerie sounds, I invoke the Almighty!
Dazzling sunrise, come quickly to dissolve
the confinement that obscurity has created;
fog rises, owls scatter seeing glints above...
even bats escape from the awakening world!
A gloomy night such as this is not made for romance,
shivering poet, stay away from the delusive pretense,
the drummer's beats would be more somber
than your verses: be realistic, not a dreamer!
who are we to intervene
if third eye and jugular notch
choose to tango dance and confer
our heart is but a joyous receptor
imbibing outpourings of grace
A short match in the dark.
Escape the choir.
the intenerate salesmen,
both demons and angels,
the sincerely frivolous.
Belief strays like a cat
it goes to live with another,
it needs to be always fed.
Can it all be
a tragedy of certainty?
A settled science
rooted in concrete
like an urban weed.
Who are the ones
who with great accord
affirm, confirm, and confer?
Best to be constantly surprised
by that birds-eye view
of a fly on the wall.
Better to praise the inexplicable
as if were.
the one true religion.
Cast of shadows, courtesy of candle,
Light fading unfolds the same tale at dusk.
Soliloquized retellings of scandal,
Lengthy but worthy, as faults to unhusk.
Memories gone cold, my table setting,
Echoing attenuated laughter.
Plates piled high with the feasts of forgetting,
Still doleful hungers linger thereafter.
The flickering cloister of flames confer,
Enkindling solace in the solitude.
Tacit acceptance, no protest to stir,
Away from the noise, alone without brood.
Resigned, I dine on the remnants of day,
Umbral asylum, narrative decay.
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