I wish to die whilst I might slumber;
Let Old Age smooth my path away;
With no accounts remaining proper;
No innocent worlds in disarray;
And should a peace exist in vision;
Which legends, myths and cults do sow;
I hope with my true love reunion;
Or wait if they be yet to follow.
And yet, should my account be tainted;
And legends, myths and cults beware;
A journey to a depth recanted;
With restlessness as common fare;
And there alone in spite and fury;
No love to balm and bound my geist;
I wish regret for a life unruly;
No eternal angst to be my price.
So knowing not when I may exit;
Nor having sight to know what truths;
I wish this life devoid of conflict;
Where Nature smiles as balance rules.
For what then life if then not sharing;
To not see death as sweet release;
We are not human if not caring,
A mild and worthy life finds peace.
…religion, and oh boy…
The trouble with religion, and boy do I know it, is that getting too close to the dogma is like basking in the sun. It feels good, and self righteousness is the opiate of fundamentalist cults. Round and round the merry-go-round, discussions turning into arguments that either begin or end with "God said so." “God said it, and I believe it.” Or, with cult MAGA "Trump said it, so I know I'm right.” It numbs one to reality. Rationalization may last hours, but it always ends this way.
But, like exposure to the sun, you may get cancer, the cancer of reason gone wild. No longer anchored in known facts, but on an ever expanding blockage of the truth behind the tumor of dogmatic cultism.
See, it took years to heal my mind. I felt that I was guilty somehow of leaving the herd, of even thinking that this was all a grift dressed up in Bible verses. Now, I know what I truly believe and that is that I know nothing.
If you've a yen
(it's not zen)
you may bet your bottom dollar
while integrating yin yang cosmology
Chinese philosopher and scholar
Dong Zhongshu
(good old you know who)
favoured heaven worship results
over and above traditional cults
altho' a man well-read
he often wrote instead
yet to avoid confusion
knowingly said, 'Jump to assumption,
arrive wrong conclusion.'
Without my pen, the pain becomes my voice.
The cruelty of others, the hardness of their hearts,
Linger in this place of cult,
Where public shaming is currency.
I scream for help, face to face,
Yet they cast me deeper into despair.
Tears bleed red, patience drains,
My heart trembles, a silent echo in the vast universe.
My eyes never dry, my body weakens,
Heart torn apart, full of anguish,
Yet no one feels the depth within;
They mistrust the plea for help.
This is my story, my life—
Manipulated by whispers,
By cults hiding in plain sight.
Insecurity among them breeds cruelty.
They lurk at corners, ready to strike.
I called for help. He laughed: "You're funny."
How can real danger ever sound like a joke?
This is the world's cruel reality:
Where chasing money and shifting blame
Leave no space for help.
And still—I believe, somewhere, somehow,
kindness awaits—
like a single candle glimmering
in the heart of the void.
Never came close to starving
didn't wait tables or wash dishes
Never hung out in the subway
no cults or commune on my resume
Didn’t stay up late at night smoking dope
Actually know how to spell hope
My soul is not tortured
nor my clothing mortgaged
I wash my hair oftener than you think
(if you count the toilet as a bathroom sink)
Vote Republican, straight ticket
Don’t consider Trump a bigot...
A poet I became after years of sniffing glue
~ all those model airplanes that didn’t flew
several crazy clowns of different cults
craved to commit crimes for luxury
careless critical calculations are causing
crucial conflict with cashless returns
concern with catching several cases
candles and coke chanting in their cars
stalking copying conjuring while
continue casting spells while I'm calm
I'm a cosmic cat that construct from cubes
my crown was cloaked so you couldn't see
came for me countless times clearly warned
now completely cornered by the clapback.
To be truly, fully present
Of consciousness and
answering why we are here,
These studies are a promising field of research
Yet by powerful backlash
research has halted
For severe depression and PTSD
Universities use micro-doses of psylocibin
Derived from mushrooms
It lowers stress and doesn’t
cause hallucinations
Follow up studies show dramatic improvement
of conditions not previously responsive
to conventional medications and therapies
This chemical is still widely banned
Except for a few controlled studies
Underway at accredited, renowned medical
and psychiatric departments
at major universities
When popular conventional
therapies prove ineffective
the 60’s and 70’s proved a fertile ground
for those seeking help
New age treatment called Primal Therapy,
When religious cults such as love Guru’s
Hare`Krishna mantras, Buddhist chants
of Nam-Myoho-renge-kio or being shakabukued
or Hollywood fix its— for anxiety’s
mental illness failed,
Came the psychotherapists
and the latest Primal Scream Therapy
new and experimental, so-called Hollywood therapists
took it to levels unimaginable and a bit too far
and should have never been licensed!
My own insecurities ruin everything I can have
I scroll and scroll until I have no energy left
I feel like I’m falling into a void of self-destruction
Everything I do comes to bite me in the end
Any connections are broken when I move to another state
I am in a constant state of self-loathing
My inner child can’t be healed at this point
I grew up in a time of screens
And cellphone cults
Watching our life getting sucked away by disease and electricity
I wish I were a true poet
Incorporating meaning into every line
My symbolism saying
The words I couldn't
But, I’m just a kid who has bitten off more than she can chew
The church says that I was picked by God himself
My father says that I was blessed with many qualities
My pastor says that I am special and my innocence needs to be protected
But how do you know?
I have to come face-to-face with the selfish parts of my heart
I have to meet my sinful counterpart
But I keep scrolling until I fall to the song of sleep
Asked the crowning Trees
of their Grass rooting neighbors
When you feel like singing
while dancing
are you more likely to invoke devotion
to capitalism's competitions
or compassion's cooperation?
Responsive chords,
amusing reeds
and whistling thistles
shyly reply
When we feel most wealthy voiced
and healthy choiced
are we more likely to invest
in red soiled cults
of secular supremacy
or green cultures
of sacred communion?
MotherTrees of crowning shade
for their root systemic neighbors
flexed their branching muscles
groaning
moaning through Earth's wind
and rain,
heat
and pain
Our best way to heal
Othering smothering instincts
is to repair our shared cooperative soil
restoring EarthPeace soul
of co-invested health
Thereby growing out
our shared climate
with compassion's devoted wealth
Sang the crowning Trees
while dancing with Grass rooting
up shooting
neighbors.
Adam was in his late 50s and Jean was younger than him by 27
They both had a lot in common, they saw life as if they were in heaven
They spent most of their time together talking, he felt happy in her presence and she felt safe by his side
Jean had strong feelings for Adam, her affection is something that she did not want to hide
But Adams affection for Jean was not at all of that kind
As time went by, Jean found herself madly in love with Adam, but Adam was not aware of this love
Then came the day when she could no longer bare the pain of love, to Adam she graciously opened her heart
Adam felt her sincere pure love for him, but he asked himself is this love a crime
He knew then that this was not infatuation, but deep feelings flowing from her heart
They both came from a different place of worship, and the difference in age was a start
She made him feel young again, her youth gave him a spark of life
By now Adam was deep under the spell of love, his heart and mind were already in prisoned by her charm
This is when their long bitter struggle began, as their love by their cults was deemed forbidden
Saleh Ben Saleh
were many insults
which were caused by many cults
upsetting results
A dark cloud covers us in the form of the New World Order.
Things like to organize such as cults, mafias and gangs.
They have found their home in the order and they are powerful!
When threatened they team up with pysops and the dreaded Illuminati curse.
They target individuals (TIs) with MKUltra and MKOften.
Their end goal is world domination and to destroy everything in their path.
Most dreaded is the no-sleep shot and the accompanying hell virus shot,
Designed to send their foes to an eternity of anguish.
But what about their power? An allegiance to dark, evil and greed.
A movement against human rights, world peace and freedom!
Will a heavenly wind ever blow this cloud away?
Or will we forever live in fear to the unknown of these secret societies?
The follies of fools
The lord of fools
The fools that are lords
a leader of the damned
Insane the minority of minions
Deplorable and disdained
Blind in the sight of kings and lords
Jester’s of old orange baboons
In golden flossy glossy wigs
Fleeting hair a top fule lords fake façade
In a flock of tweets and Nitwits
Someone said the one eye
man is lord of the blind in the land
of the blind this fool is king
Dressed in nothing but a red tie
& golden fly away sad toupee
The follies of fools a leader
of the damned doomed
And unschooled the folly of fools
the fule lord of one supreme leader to some
Blind in the sight of kings and lords
Burning Republics building empires,
finding legions of cults
a Cult of personality bleeding, pleading
Scheming at the doors of a CLOSED kingdom
tearing apart the fabric of a nation
For the keys to dominion
Someone once said the one eye man
is lord of the blind in the land
of the blind has a fool for a king
Dressed in nothing but Ignorance.
In golden flossy glossy wigs
Fleeting hair top fule lords FRACTURED façade…
Dic: fule (dialectal, chiefly Scotland) fool
This is not my battle,
cults, orders, secret societies
swelling up in thousands
with a unified goal of defeating me with anxiety.
I am but a child of God
deserving blessings as do others,
so my fight is one with inclusion
hand in hand with Jesus is my druthers.
I will shake off my fears!
I will walk with dignity!
Lord all high is here to love,
by grace, not implied responsibility!
Thank you for battling by my side
Jesus and God, protecting me on this ride.
I'm an animal that barks in
language archetype
that we learned
to repeat...
We associate the situations
with that language...
And we repeat the sounds
and signs every time it happens...
That's how we live the normal... !
But not all us bark
the same password...
Some express what we don't understand,
are they similar to us,
but they are incongruously
most different...
Whisper different,
vibrate different...
We define them another caste...
are the so-called intellectuals
literate... !
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