Western natons lead, womens emancipation duration
Contraception..Anti-creation wealthier relating makimg
Less, so lower fabrication false elation.' House prices
Prized possesions ownership rising 70s 80s 90s got
Into the naugtys, now deflation a dragging serration fraying
Politicans are braying, demographors are playing trying to
Be God, I see its also playing; many billions still dying.'
Starvation intesifiying as with insects as susteance some are vying?
Farm land left lying; fallow..what are they just before us lie-ing?
Italy Japan France Britian Germany Ukraine depopulation decrying
I see, so where is the growth? Is it stable other countries
Can they boast? at the very most ? Is gaslighting? And ghosting? are
Its proponents false hosting ? Claims at odds I would see in the
Glare of reality.'
Spring marches its way south, inundating
the winter steeled earth struggling to drink
the season’s flood. So I bide time, waiting
for thirsty trees to flourish red and pink.
Yet when the heavens seal their divine doors
and the portal outdoors reopens wide
the red-pink promises of spring are floors
of brownish, brackish sludge when rain subsides
The birds are singing, or are they crying?
The mud is clinging to every footfall
Grasping with desperation, decrying
walks in the woods, holding me in its thrall
So I yield to the season’s iron will
and listen to the songbird’s somber trill
Four Billion years or thereabouts
Earth has orbited its appointed place
Slowly and surely developing into
A safe and hospitable living space
What a strange year this has been
Year Two Thousand and Twenty Two
You seem to have bern so long passing
And I’m so glad to see the back of you.
A year of invasion and Warfare
Of bullies flexing their might
Seeming secure in their belief
That might alone is right.
A year of political spectres
Of crooks, spivs and ghouls
Carelessly showing to the world we
Are lead by blatant self seeking fools.
The greedy and avaricious seem
To want, and take, more and more
Leaving even less for the peasants
To fight and grub for off the floor.
The rich man in his castle still,
Security light and guard at his gate,
More and more decrying the excesses
Of the battered remnant Welfare State.
So goodbye twenty twenty two
Heaven only knows what we’ll see,
More of the same and worse I think, when
They usher in year Twenty Twenty Three.
Four thousand years give a century or two
That’s just about as long as it’s taken
For man to abuse Earth’s delicate balance
And leave it stunned and badly shaken
We see the sunlight fleeting,
long shadows creeping in,
dark paths the wolves are beating,
we feel we cannot win.
The predators are feasting
in darkness everywhere,
those let alive retreating,
gloom casts a hard despair.
The sounds are horrifying.
we try to look away,
all laws of men defying,
they slay their helpless prey.
No amount of decrying
will change the wolf-kin’s mind,
no hugs or empathizing,
will ever make them kind.
But the darkness is fleeting,
the dawn sets them to fear,
fast away night is bleeding,
rays of the sun appear.
and now the wolves are fearing,
poor sheep they’ve slain are seen,
sheep-dogs are now appearing,
their appetites are keen.
Bold hunters are advancing,
with guns that smoke and burn,
the predators are fleeing,
the sun always returns.
The western media will report less on the Ukraine
As the worthy underdog.. as putin closes his grip
There, there is real understanding now that Russia
Is able to influence food supplies.. And energy
Also there will
Be reports soon of Ukranian atrocities, as putin holds
More cards the western media will have no choice
Other than to balance their content the pope is the
Way in for them ' he has gone from decrying putin
Although I believe he will say anything he's told to
Say by his cabal leaders..Maybe He's one of them?
Anyway to saying he may have been provoked?
Well he did
See 23 places change allegiance, after the west
Promised not to move nato one inch further east
After East Berlin was annexed in the 1990s ) also any
Idea that Russian ships in Crimean ports are unusual
Will not be heard, neither will it be reported that British
Navy ships in Southhampton mean Britian will invade
Dorset.. I couldn't help that one ' LOL))) So there
we have It.. Let's see if it pans out as I have written it.?
Flowering nature defines regrowth
within cycles of perpetuating life
Rotational seasons universally
acclaimed, fruitful, abundant, then
withering to autumnal variegated scents
and scenic hues of vibrant golds, copper
and plum feted reds decrying diminishing
twilight hour before extinguishing
concealed beneath the inclement
winter’s blanket of snow
Vibrational throb
instrumentally wakens
snowdrop’s snowy head
Haibun Poetry Contest Moments of Reflection
Date 4/21/21
Left to my own,
Walking upon my path
Has become a most dangerous adventure
Decrying that I should be able to choose
For myself,
As to what is best for me!
And my brain, having registered the amount
Of pain that I have accumulated across the years,
Has taken to be the patriarchal figure that
I lack, guiding me firmly and stoically,
Bent upon the safekeeping of my honour
And the pride of having my ego always
Boosted up!
But then, my heart, so frail and feminine
Can help you but gently command me
To throw away my swords,
And to kneel upon my knees,
Hands joined, to beg, for that which
I yearn with the zeal of a needy child!
I stand in the middle of them both
And as if such was not enough,
I have to keep receiving society's blows,
Which try to define my choices!
But in the very end,
Somehow, somewhere, my mind itself
Whispers it to me,
That we all know, that the one I shall
Choose to follow shall be none other
Than my heart, even if it is a bleeding one!
He rides all night, on a mission of Light
A stranger come, preaching Healing and Love
Rough men gawk and they stare; this isn't right
They push him down to the ground with a shove...
He picks himself up and he scrapes off the mud
It's started raining now; he's gotten soaked
His mouth's started trickling a stream of blood
Still he gathers himself, for the Cause woke
Decrying vi'lence, he gently pleads Peace
To take a step back, calm all the way down
As he yet speaks, all the riotings cease
The guns go still; not a noise in the town
A smile, coy, plays at the edge of his lips
Tonight there will be no Apocalypse
“And no bird weeping a lament
no bird crying the song of its honey voice
in the leaves of Spring’s many flowers
could outrun him
Pan, in song”
"Hymn to Pan,” The Homeric Hymns
Tis not a year for fireworks, when multitudes lie dying
While those in power obfuscate, fake news betrays their lying
Rue the day when counterfeit Pence spouts logic false decrying
That at last the tide has turned with more and younger expiring
As Pontius Trump unmasked washes his hands denying
All blame and then returns to golfing.
Once Cast Into Stormy Winds, Words Decrying Fate
I bid adieu, life and hidden glory not found
in defiance I speak from this high lofty height
once slaving in destructive blindness, firmly bound
to mortal arrogance, rage born in dark of night
Final words, I utter before I make this leap
you that slayed me, your false victory may keep!
R.J. Lindley, March 11th, 1978
Rhyme, ( Verses born after deep betrayal )
( Staring into eternity and roaring against Fate's black hands )
‘I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.’
Sorry, Lord; it’s no longer you.
I rid myself of your religion, purge the poison
That had me bowing down to humans being
You. Pretend prophets and sacred sinners
Defining my worth, decrying my world,
Condemning my life in the name of Your Word.
Preach no more, as I profess my love to another.
My sister has the first gospel, I have the fourth,
And that’s a better religion for us both.
Of course, my dear, you're a little shying,
And my October's pale and gray,
What will you say to friend decrying,
Who has remembered you in day?
I feel myself, I have been punished
with heartless torment without fault
By you and Muse, that is un banished,
But the sky is kind for my world.
You do not love you need no feeling
Of mine, I'm lost, you will not find,
I'm not your bridegroom, it is killing
And you will leave Love hymn behind.
the onset of emotional nadir,
where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
decrying, detonating, and describing me own Pigs Bay
Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
sphere inroads usurped no delay
riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did Swiss hide dill naught
to decimate with Sherman determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times) referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
of rebel voices yelling “HOORAY”
A Sonnet to a Sable Poet’s Pen
(Apropos Disrespected, Suspected, Neglected and Rejected)
I want to write poems
of flowers and birds;
Fragrant poems singing
beautiful words;
Poems praising the ebb and flow
of evening tides
Splashing shores searching
where love abides;
But my pen refuses to ink
such seemingly simplicity.
My pen refuses to ignore
today’s blatant iniquities.
I must write for and to those blinded
by the cataracts of injustice;
Those who suffer deafness from
cancer of abject prejudice—
Immobilized by sclerosis
of uncontrollable apathy:
That coveted placebo that placates
infectious pity.
Yes, I must write wailing words decrying
flowing blood in the street;
Leaving sobbing sad sable mothers
with only dried tears to weep.
This pen of mine must mark our time of vigilance
and what was neglected;
I must write poems of reality—how down the years
our liberty they rejected.
There are a lot of not good things
here and, of course, I won’t be crying,
But pain grips heart of mine it seizes
When you’re so strange when you’re decrying.
I cry when I am forceless, say,
When someone just dictates my being
And future slams the door, no way,
This is not fate not luck, I’m meaning
Don’t make me beg don’t make me choose
to freeze for death or burn in fire
to die with honour or to lose
it, to kill saint and to admire
by tyrants to compare the lust
with love, to friend the foe in action,
Oh, beast with ten heads, oh, disgust,
Hell gates will open, their faction
calls these illusive evil gods
to do blind justice just for nothing
creating fools who have no thoughts
to be so impudent in dicing.
So many things these make me sad,
But they won’t drop my tears I know it
My reason won’t forgive I’m mad,
Oh, generosity, die for it!
My soul has mercy for all men
There are a lot of things for schism
This world is full of thoughts, again,
But all’s material. Oh, reason!
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