Inside each of us there are shades of ChAoS…at the very least intermittent negativity
Hypocritical thinking defines so many people
As they bask in their appearance of virtue.
Let us listen to the preacher because only a few can see the utter dissimulation within.
It is a compelling story that society has written…
To distort and extort our souls…
Angst…
We are innately the same, we haven’t gone anywhere new…
We’re just looking at things from a new perspective… Can we do this together…
Remember…inside is chaos, negativity and angst but there is also…
This…
Did you know…
Fear is a state of mind…
Life can feel encapsulated… trapped with anger and misery
How do we battle the angst…
I don’t know…
But there is always…
This…
Let’s start…
We should not recognize a life has ended….
Only recognize a life has lived…
Celebrate…
It is our right
There is power in ritual
Ritual to grieve
Wicked atrocity or not
There is…
This…
This can be a magnificent day if you choose…
This minute shall not be wasted
Simple, it is a beautiful life we can live…
Simpler, when one thing ends… another begins…
Ultimate simplicity…
This is this…
the many things we forget
that we didn't know...
it was still summer for us,
the assassins were far away
with his envelopes and phone calls.
you're tired of saying no,
while I stumbled
in every shadow that swallowed us alive.
the universe shouldn't be that big
if we can't handcuff
the stars to our destiny,
because we suffer in layers
and the levels of anguish
work like a spiral
that descendant goes to hell,
where pain and torture build
our weakness and iniquity.
lovelessness also obeys this rule
and the only talent we have left
is the dissimulation,
that can be judged on how we resist
to everything that tramples and crushes us,
while we falsely bloom
like an old and tired tree,
whose branches no longer have flowers and fruits
to offer or see.
My paramour, try to understand me now.
You knew the shape of my heart in the course of our budding affair.
At the start, my face was not disfigured with dissimulation, and my mien has always been upright.
For, I am perplexed in the nature of monogamy.
You can not imprison my cripple heart.
There are no gentle terms of endearment that can cure me.
You stand before me with peeling eyes trying to reach the core of me.
Trying to understand me with all your weakness of a man from Mars.
My paramour, try to understand me now.
Although, I was jocund in all our congenial coitus and oftentimes you sent me flying.
My heart remains impervious.
My paramour, try to understand me now.
You are a virtuous man, soulful, cultured, and refine.
You are ambrosial for any woman.
Melt away my paramour from devotion, and make no more grievance pleas of the subject of our ephemeral romance for you see you are the conqueror of this affair.
Be in time with the fact that this is but a small breach, to your heart and ego.
(sigh)
As for me, I will fall back into a spiral of ephemeral love affairs.
copyright 2016 Looking At The Light From The Bottom of The Lake.
An alm-timed good deed
got evilly rewarded
The saintly gesture, labor of love
was given a
perfidious payment
Death by dissimulation
uttered a bullet cry
Good Samaritan intentions
was given a
hot metal, cold evil eye
A warm welcoming, kind-hearted try
was given a
glowing halo goodbye
If I offend,
let the reason be pure
Should my presence spoil your thoughts,
let not a shadow of doubt
be cast secular
When I move against the status quo grain,
fermented feelings of many
stir amber waves of murmuring
I sense the seething wind of dissimulation brewing
Compel not me to follow
the drunken messengers of false hope
Perhaps the imitation flavor of idol persuasion
be not my cup of tea ~ I despise superfluous civility
So please allow this non-conforming offense to unsweetly fall on me
As my tongue refuse to sugarcoat the truth ...
another dawn of darkness arises bitterly,
offering no core value compromising remedy
Twilight time is the fading glow of bauble hoarding lunacy
If I offend,
cast these words to the ground
Let any uplifted eyes of oblivious pride
peer ever unquestioningly down
ripe wild crab apples
hang over the wooden fence -
bitter deception
----------------------------------
23rd May 2019
Writing Challenge 3, May 2019
Nature Haiku, by Dear Heart
Placed 1st
Stephanus Marcus Book 1
Canto 3
Verses 2 and 3
Then Guenevere did speak with force his praise.
With glowing paeans she extolled man's fame.
"In James extensive fields doth cattle graze
and castle great exceeds all other frame.
Above all nobles he's your father's name,
his carriage's so erect and manly straight.
A noted statesman wise of wide acclaim,
and foreign legates seek him, many wait.
Beyond belief, this pleasant marriage seems your fate".
" His visage handsome having golden mane,
his teeth soft white as like pearl's glow when seen.
Affection he doth hold for thee won't wane,
a pillar raised for thee against to lean.
For he hath no bad single streak that's mean,
a noble savoir-faire in social grace.
All see his garments fine extremely clean,
adorned, embroidered light with costly lace.
Dissimulation find there we that know non trace".
Masked impressions become conflicts of interest, when synonyms
Are exteriorly presented as such, but intrinsically are pure antonyms!
While the skies’ feelings are transparent with their idiosyncratic looks,
Are there personality barometers, to decipher our intents like open books?
Hence dissimulation has become seamless as if an ingrained aspect,
Where conspicuous expectations are rather what we shouldn’t expect!
And so predatory politicians pledge heaven, but deliver pleasantries of hell,
While some radical clergies’ instigative teachings echo like a woeful knell...
Disguised saints roam streets, as if on a pilgrimage to some holy land!
Whereas their tainted feet trample virtues on the other hand!
What has thus become the sincerity of countenances on faces?
Glances portraying relics of hidden motives beneath the surfaces?
How deep must we then prod the counterfeit of outward expressions?
Just so we can even glimpse, beyond the guile of masked impressions.
©Maverick Nyambu
L-et it all hang out,
O-ne chance to be sincere;
L-et the false happiness turn
I-nto a real drop of
T-ear.
R-eveal your true feelings,
O-ne opportunity to be honest;
D-ay thirty in sunny May,
R-esolve the emotional test.
I-nside and out say it clear,
G-rief and sadness you show;
U-nder untrue appearance,
E-vade hiding fear of nothing or
Z-ero.
D-eny not the exact score,
U-sing your facial expression;
L-et the words voice out,
P-lacing you in right position.
I-n your mind, heart and soul,
N-ever hesitate nor doubt;
A-ct without dissimulation, just let it all hang out.
The shadows from his younger days shake his resolve,
and make a mockery of time 'til time be lost
to moments of bewilderment, ne'er to evolve,
they bounce and bluster errantly, much to his cost.
Shades and silences, outbursts of ungoverned rage,
cruelty breeds rancor, even in the meek at heart,
kept and restricted, like a creature in a cage,
no literature for him, gentility or art.
Dissimulation, trickery and guile he plies
as tools to engineer self-preservation,
he tells quaint versions of the truth, and bald-faced lies,
so to avoid the whip and recrimination.
Childhood is the birthplace of hope and mirth
not fear and perturbation for the budding soul,
a testament to love where supplicants may dwell;
not tyranny or willfulness, a wayward goal.
Shun darkness, disillusion, from God's green earth,
cast demons, evil thinkers to the depths of hell.
The shadows from his younger days shake his resolve,
and make a mockery of time 'til time be lost
to moments of bewilderment, ne'er to evolve,
they bounce and bluster errantly, much to his cost.
Shades and silences, outbursts of ungoverned rage,
cruelty breeds rancor, e'en in the meek at heart,
kept and restricted, like a creature in a cage,
no literature for him, gentility or art.
Dissimulation, trickery and guile he plies
as tools to engineer self-preservation,
he tells quaint versions of the truth, and bald-faced lies,
so to avoid the whip and recrimination.
Childhood is the birthplace of hope and mirth
not fear and perturbation for the budding soul,
a testament to love where supplicants may dwell;
not tyranny or willfulness, a wayward goal.
Shun darkness, disillusionment from God's green earth,
cast demons, evil thinkers to the depths of hell!
Last Modified: January 09, 2016 at 07:20 pm
© bickerstaffe - all rights reserved
Author Notes
...the first three verses: abab rhyming
the next two together: abcbac rhyming
a form used frequently by W.H. Auden
4 matches left
for John Steinbeck @ Annabel Lee@of course E.A.POE
Chickens; a roaring rooster
An old house filled with flys
and many bugs
Many Mexican neighbor
Friend
no water no elec
No Amends
Romans 11: 29
" For the gifts and calling of GOD are without repentance"
Cold beer sometimes-mostly hot
and a cheap cigar
Romans 12:9
dissimulation means Hypocrisy-Scornful-psalm1vs1
Noise heat sweat no work no shower no money no respect
NO REGRET
nO FAMILY NO CHURCH
A FEW RARE FRIENDS
I WILL NOT USE
Enlightenment
I AM embedded in a bunker on the front...
Know I Love You and all the little Children too...
I do not like Zealots who work for money!
I like people that work for GOD
We lived in a marvellous world
Of make-believe. What a charade!
Differences seemed to disappear
With dissimulation and deceit,
Prevarication, alienation from
Cherished ones, parents, family,
Friends! As she took the initiative,
The contorted configurations of
Her tortuous desires besieged my heart
And asphyxiated our relationship.
Love grew obsessive, dependent,
Hopelessly obtrusive, devastating
Like a raging, decimating, tropical
Storm, leaving, in its wake, insidious
Hurt, pain, torture, torment, gnawing angst!
When, for another, she turned her back,
Leaving me with battered mind, and splintered
Will, my world shattered, like a mirror, into
A thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, each a
Merciless reflection of my profound agony!
The shadows from his younger days shake his resolve,
and make a mockery of time 'til time be lost
to moments of bewilderment, ne'er to evolve,
they bounce and bluster errantly, much to his cost.
Shades and silences, outbursts of ungoverned rage,
cruelty breeds rancor, e'en in the meek at heart,
kept and restricted, like a creature in a cage,
no literature for him, gentility or art.
Dissimulation, trickery and guile he plies
as tools to engineer his self-preservation,
he tells quaint versions of the truth, and bald-faced lies,
so's to avoid the whip and recrimination.
Childhood should be the nursery of hope and mirth,
not fear and perturbation, for the budding soul,
a testament to love, where supplicants may dwell;
not tyranny or willfulness, a wayward goal,
shun darkness, disillusionment from God's green earth,
cast demons, evildoers to the depths of hell.
standing in the line i feel the pressure, scolding, start to build,
i feel their each and every iris as they climb the height of my structure,
this fortress i was forced, by fear in youth, to unearth and bare in hand,
with time has weathered thin and i with it feel increasingly translucent.
mutter and glance, hands attempt to contain their maintenance.
to look and to listen, not a single tone to note or color to perceive.
their contaminants infiltrate my ventilation, the stench is sickening,
pulse erratic and mind askew, i flee, steps fueled by incubated haste,
cause comes to such effect even the beaten path is bruised by its confusion.
the archway constitutes a sigh and with that a slow of pace,
fumbling finger over fidget, pocket full with whispers coaching panic on its way.
the breathe of smoking paranoia shrugs a calming gesture.
a wink of timid silliness and nurtured nature bring to mind,
how, even aware of relevance, dissimulation fogs the clouds.
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