Twice around the world he sped
pursuing madness, folly
Unrequited lover he
denied, his desperate volley
Once ignited, passions roused
flames obey no limits
Wildfires scorch the tender earth
unbridled desire's afterbirth
Stumbling down from out which Age
In keeping its balance
Mentally, had stood for respect
Emotionally, restraint
This day's general folly.
Yielded to, either side
"Do what you like's" mantra. Ensures
God's "doomed to fall" complaint.
It is truth, opposites attract.
Seeing common ground is our tract.
Maths! for a plus, start in subtract.
Love! great voice, hate a mouth breather!
Head in a spin! Gee gosh golly.
All the workings, end us as friendly.
If i could, go back? yes fully!
We know this and yet here we are!
screech owl perched inside
suddenly fearful darkness
a glimpse of my death
my eyes - double-pained windows
my sense of self - foggy mess
fell heavy curtain
personification of
vampire wrapped in cloak
needles piercing my spirit
a voodoo doll shapeshifter
a light inside me
all nerves proclaim I belong
to heaven’s kingdom
each candle lit by angels
predator wings - breakneck speed
Saklas, the fool who within his heart of indulgence
Whispers: “There is no god greater than me”
Coiling and consuming himself in self-indulgence
Isn’t he like that voice in you and me
Samuel, the blind idol who proclaims to the world
Roaring loudly “There is no god but me”
His roars thundering within the cosmic underworld
Isn’t he like that voice in you and me
The serpent begets nothing god-like or natural
The lion just dims light for you and me
Sneaking arrogance and boastful vainglory coiled up as one
Pride, wisdom’s veil and denial of the humble Son
The serpent and lion are coiled up as one, for us to see
Yaldabaoth, the idol of pride and wisdom’s folly
Verse 1
Girlfriend Trouble
Pain
Hard
feelings
take hold.
A fight with her,
the one I care for,
and everything now
feels broken and heavy.
I just don't know what to do.
Why does love have to hurt this much?
Verse 2
Time Waits For no One
Tick.
The clock,
quiet machine,
Eat our youth whole,
Chews love into dust,
Leaves bones of memory,
Still,chase its shadow's tail,
Calling seconds by sacred names,
Pretending they'll stop if we sing the song,
We keep on running from the final tick
Verse 3
The River Forgets no Face
Flow.
Limps on
Through our sins
Washing lies away clean,
It hums to the drowned ones
Names carved in its ripples,
Even the mud remembers feet
No step unseen,no crime erased now,
The river keeps our softest griefs always,
Its ancient water never forgets a single
face
"While dining at the table of an unimaginable feast
We are asked to consider which one thing we prefer the least
Incomprehensible to me such a query should be presented
For with unquestionable gratitude nothing should be resented
Yet with query though persisted over time we shout out “ the fly”
And in that instant life is seen through quite a different eye
To have so much through gracious gift only to have detracted
By that of such small consequence we all have over reacted
In parallel is life not found to be a feast most spectacular
Yet is not same small fly of our eye the greatest of detractor
To have so much yet to take time in search of what is wrong
Oh !!! What great folly we are guilty of. "
Darrell
slanting hue
sink every desire due ~
cackle at humans
A sommelier was known to whine
at pairings made with pork.
The shoulder was in fact divine,
so tender, lightly forked.
Yet she was deign to recommend
a cab or chardonnay.
Esteem I’d had came to an end
though, just the other day;
I saw her swilling Boone’s Farm wine,
complete with plastic cork.
You whirl, you whir, a sparkler with no plan.
A frantic rush, chasing all you think you can.
Each flip is fragile, fleeting, never really sown.
A scatter gun feast, that leaves you all alone.
You blaze as if the world will soon ignite.
Your tiny body burns with furious light.
Your haste is commanding, yet what is it worth?
Without pausing to taste the fleeting mirth?
The garden knows your madness; it makes it clear,
That no blossom trusts your beat to linger near.
You skim, you dart, you never claim the whole.
For your shallow sips can never fill the soul.
A slower hand, will plant, endure and stay,
Learning the patient slow cadence of the day.
For haste will scatter, shatter what was planned,
Quickly yielding the dust you cannot stand.
Why do you not linger longer at what you sip?
Your feet are a blur; your body is a whip.
But, why this panicked, fevered, fleeting chase?
What force is driving you at such a pace?
Can menacing winds command you to not rest?
Or are rivals sneaking in, invading your nest?
You know a steady heart, outlasts a flashing one.
Playing slow and stead get the victory won.
The world is an awful place
so much going on so bad
it seems it's always been like that
looking on it's so very sad
But can nothing be done?
it's a really awful place
wherever one goes about
awful testimony of the human race
Evil is evident to triumph
what a picture this shows
of the sinfulness of sin
there's one way this goes
The real mistake is to do nothing
then there's no courage to attack
being good men is not enough
doing nothing's just so slack
It's so full of folly
to be doing not a thing
show your metal and shine
make the call so it rings!
(Quote
" The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing" - Edmund Burke)
Problem
Very disturbing
Being the victor
Makes you happy,
Being the loser
Make you worry and worthless.
Problem a disruption
Very annoying
To the educated
It Hinders growth
Destroys relationships
Leaving many vulnerable
Acting from panic and fear.
Have anything flourish amidst war??
No schooling and more
Problem very practical
When you get a prey
It awards you
When you bite
More than you can chew
It disgrace you
Don't let folly takes over you.
A man, more patrician than not,
Of folly, he had quite a lot.
Stentorian voice,
But words of poor choice,
A sot, not a yacht, had he bought.
Wars Folly
Since you are there and I am here,
have yourself an ice-cold beer.
Raise your glass and sing with cheer,
for all you love is standing near.
This is not the way for me,
I’m on a deck across the sea.
The rolling deck as engines roar,
as in the sky fighter’s soar.
Barely adult’s young soldiers die,
as their loved ones at home cry.
On the land the sea or air,
loved one’s bleeding over there.
With hat in hand their families wait,
for soldiers to come home they anticipate.
The touch of their skin and smiling eyes,
to give hope to their heart and spirits rise.
This is not for all that go,
say the crosses row on row.
For at the point of a gun,
dreams are destroyed and come undone.
Hundreds dead or maimed for life,
filled with sorrow, pain, and strife.
Their mothers look at us and say,
why do our children have to pay?
It matters not to them we won,
their lives are shattered and undone.
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
A girl from the Folies Bergere
Manoeuvred her feathers with care.
One night, to a gasp,
They slipped from her grasp
And there she stood totally bare
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