—Where the Verb Fell—
Forgive me, honey; I was beguiled
by love’s high masque, and thought my soul might rise;
yet “falling” was the word that fate compiled
beneath the honey’d treason of thine eyes.
I fell—and with me fell the sovereign mind
that once could bridle blood and master fate;
my wisdom, armed against all humankind,
lay disarray’d and supplicant at thy gate.
The sages cried, “Hold horses!”—yet I rushed
where angels pause, and heard my reason’s knell;
love, which should crown me, left my spirit crushed,
and made a velvet vacancy of hell.
So let the phrase stand: I fell in love—and fell;
no gain ascended from that fall but hell.
To the tatterdemalions of the mind
Contradictions cannot be combined
How does one account for abstract entities
When a worldview is based in only what it sees?
Between fallacies and faith the debate unfurls
Atheists and Christians see each other as churls
Questions of mind or of matter and motion
Generalizations swim in a transcendental ocean
Redefining claims accusations arise
But spiritual growth is not veiled in disguise
Stages and standards Jesus said of fruit and tree
Critique falls short where reason should be
Tu Quo Que and ad hominem fallacies wined and dined
The atheist worldview can’t account for the truth we find
Agnostics linger on the threshold of knowing
Come on in atheists to the river that’s flowing
Yet in the end faith stands in both camps
A humorous note for philosophical tramps
For abstraction both sides do lay claims
Rise up to God standards or go down in flames
Something caught between the eyes of fellowship and the riddle of thought makes any setting unforeseeable. Yet, within the mannerisms of those declawed by the very societies they themselves conceived armed only with a utility belt of miraculous misconceptions springs forth exponential, autonomous growth, promised by the ancestors of preconceived notions.
Most often, the spirits of ideas formed upon the fragile spine of inadequate frequencies press us all into a reliable destination, one mastered only through performances of unseen archetypes, driving this windowless vehicle we insist on calling time.
My augmented delusions, I admit, disassociate from the fermentation of your reasoning, and so taint our deductive search for the emotions we struggle to preserve. The tropes of an enigma’s fragrance intoxicate the cerebral moments of free thought, undermining even the simplest reproductive solutions for advancing communication.
And so, as I tear this parchment, I summon an opportunity. Yet what a cumbersome opportunity it is.
Politicians are true to their word
Something that's very seldom heard
I often wonder why
Is it pie in the sky
Maybe my thinking is blurred.
It is fallacious to pretend
we contrive to “become ourselves”
when there’s no one to observe us.
Mere mice with conceits of grandeur
prowling proud like cats in the night -
Hubris holds high its hoary head.
We are ever just whom we are,
we can’t be more and can’t be less
until finally we are not.
Smack the Naysayer upside the head
far fewer would have been harmed
had citizens not been disarmed --
Forefathers wise for Second Amendment
which Naysayers habitually make defendant
a necessary tool
to keep safe even the fool
preventing complete social upheaval
while man, his soul, remains harbinger
of evil!
Fallacy
They planted a seed and call it the truth
They Captivate the world and
Ask us for rent
If I have to be honest
Am paying my dues
In a world they told me is free and fair
What more do they need from the innocent
The days were blue but tomorrow is red
The unknown remain the fruits of their seeds
We keep paying for their growth
Daily working to their favour
This circle life never change cos
Their truth were planted with empty promises
All they wanted was what they've gotten
Sadly they left the innocent
with the gravities of their
Fallacy
Fallacy
I have told the world
They can't change
I propose the inhabitants
Of the earth to match up to the truth
We have been paying for their goals and aims
Yet our life in Africa remains the same
They feed us with their fruits of illusion
And now we can't handle our life's peacefully
With out their intrusive personality
We work we pay
We serve
they get the money
Despite their truthful lies
The world are still trapped
in their mighty nets of captivity
Cos all they taught us
and how they programed our life's
Is nothing but based on
Fallacy
As the weather chooses its flavour for the hour,
Stubble-ended wood shaves itself on the layers of unseen ground.
Synthetic puke seeps through pores seeking to devour
Every tiny, curled hair floating in the murk around and around.
Pool party skies reside a millimeter higher than the tallest fingertip:
Leftovers infect this mass of last meals passed on.
A spindle of cloth runs out with time enough to graze my lip
And still no locks of winter-lived years could sink a single talon
Into the darkest dark of fleeting moments taken from a fork.
Shall this be all that has come from years after that first unscrewed cork?
Why would they toss me in with all these crazy people?
Where we can have shared delusions.
Of time travel…
Insanity can always be expanded on.
Especially here.
As we forget our families, we form togetherness.
So that soon, their stories become my past.
So that soon, the collective hopelessness becomes my path.
The road taken is not as straight and,
Narrow as we think but a,
Huge mountain that we must climb.
As in life we have many journeys,
That we must take.
The sun brings hope in the future,
Showing us the way.
The moon holds my dreams and,
Fantasies within my soul,
Showing me what is within reach.
The sun and moon inspire our inner,
Beliefs into our presence of mind,
Of how we perceive ourselves.
Knowing this we experience the,
Twist and turns in these journeys,
Realizing what we believed is not true.
Is it conceivable to understand,
Everything we believed is now a lie,
A fantasy, or just in our imagination,
That we dream about.
Is this the fallacy of our Beliefs??
"As a person sheds worn-out garments and wears new ones, likewise, at the time of death, the soul casts off its worn-out body and enters a new one" - Bhagvad Gita 2.22
~*~
Death
is a
misnomer
Autumn leaves fall
only to be born
again when spring arrives
Body dies but eternal
soul is reborn in new body
If not reborn, it goes to heaven
and lives with God as soul without body
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Cry not over the death of near and dear
for they never died. God merely took
away the cloak they were wearing
and gave them a new body
Look within, try to see
the soul - real you
Then you will get
salvation
from death
pain
~*~
18th Feb, 2022
For,
Constance La France
E Forms- Etheree
All I want is for you to take me away,
I just want my love story.
I want you to sweep me off my feet.
To stop people talking about me,
To stop people judging me.
To tell me I'm your love,
I'm the one you reach for late at nite.
I look deeply into your eyes,
All I see is the black, lost and empty,
Eyes staring back at me.
Then I realize you were never mine.
My heart breaks as my dreams fade.
You are lost to me as the ocean,
Goes out to sea.
humanity can live without planet earth
but it should prepare for it
humanity can live without the sun
but it should prepare for it
humanity can live without the universe
but it should prepare for it
humanity can live without food
but it should prepare for it
humanity can live without oxygen
but it should prepare for it
Humanity can live without other creatures
but it should prepare for it
Humanity can live without leadership
but it should not prepare for it
This is Nudity of truth
Falsehood of fallacy
Note: This poem is dedicated to all those who engage in hyper-complex thinking about human life
and then there was nothing …
a distant echo of vacant abnegation
of purpose meaning delusion
yet a sense of unease flooded
nonchalant meditation
a void with no abyss
refused to make way to Nirvana
sandalwood marched like an Army of thoughts
burnt the loin cloth uncovered nudity beyond
imagination when the deluge breathed in flickers
blistered Nirvana scorched emotions and reason
as the heroine neared the apocalypse
her skin glowed in the dark
the sparkle set the fig tree on fire
infused the begging bowl with fragrance
of attention to the Here and Now
engulfed by her own flames
she flashed smouldered remains
revoked her precocious funeral pyre
tied frivolous misconceptions to the stake
if I really wanted to be nothing
I would hide in my womb …
21st April 2021
AFRICA WAS BETTER
Signs of fantasy
Creeping me into ecstasy
Sad signs of destruction
Sinking me by pollution
Signs of good forestry with herbs that cure
Destroyed by fallacy
No way by natural creation
That stings this destruction
To make selfish currency
For our literacy
We sink into destruction.
Africa was better and fine
When greed had not come to dine.
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