Unlike a Spurgeon, I by dull words unfold
The limits of my Sarah's love for me,
But I realize that the rot and stink and mold
Are all within my mind, beneath my See.
There is no other person who can love
For me. It is my duty and my joy.
It is the Truth that True Love is made of
It is the difference of man from a boy.
I am no counter of the counterfeits
That weigh love by the dram of sweet words said,
But rather, I am one who from above
Receives the gifts whereby he bakes his bread.
Into the practical and humble things
I'll pour my Constancy and give love wings.
There wouldn't be haters if you ignored negative admirers
Are you really expecting honesty from a person who's a liar
Stay positive and expect the unexpected
Ignoring ignorance keeps you unaffected
You leave the house knowing you good in that dress
Yes the insecure are going hate so just ignore that mess
If most of us ignored ignorance road rage wouldn't be a success
Those who do things just for attention would fail in their quest
Ignorant people fuel their fire when they gain the attention of others
Why else does a spoiled child act out in public with it's mother
If you don't like ignorance then why do you stare at it
Listening to a person talking to himself knowing he's a drug addict
Have you seen the way people talk too loud just to be noticed
They would feel like a nobody if you would keep your focus
Ignorance becomes outraged when it doesn't get the attention it wants
Violence can't ignite or escalate if you ignore someone's taunts
Half the ignorant are defeated when you don't show a reaction
I ignore ignorance because i cant stand it with a passion
Despite your intelligence mimicry,
You still come far short in your gimmickry,
Throwing down the drains fine masterpieces,
Flushed away as a fresh bout of faeces.
Nights without sleep to pen wonders on sheet,
Yet a lame detector brands one a cheat,
An app claiming to be a true genius ~
Is far from being labeled ingenious.
How long will your pretence rule human minds,
Before you're swept off by the southern winds,
That your charade may stop to fool the world,
And your foolishness may at last unfurl.
Strange how your fanbase keeps on increasing,
Even the most smart, you're daily fleecing,
These cursed detectors come in many brands,
Some free – yet some charge dollars and rands.
I'm amazed you didn't claim this was by you,
This bitter pill, your pride has had to chew,
But that won't stop me from calling you out,
To nip in the bud your infamous clout.
Blind rush, empty gain,
Chasing shadows, lost in mist,
Wisdom's price, too late.
©bfa032325
There are a lot of mysteries, anomalies and such,
things that seem to have no explanation why they are.
One of these (above the rest) that makes me wonder much -
is how the foolish crowd is made of people who are far
from being foolish on their own. Yes, people who are good.
Yet somehow when they’re in a group, mysteriously they change.
It’s something I suppose just really can’t be understood.
Yeah, something that is general and it’s nothing short of strange.
For every group of size (the more there are, the more it’s true)
is full of gossip, foolishness, and cold judgmental spite.
The group does things that what its members on their own would rue.
Collectively I guess they lose their sense of wrong and right.
And this anomaly has been the case throughout all time.
It’s something that will surely drag you down, if it’s allowed.
So maybe it is time to get yourself out of that line,
and make sure that you’re never part… of the foolish crowd.
flitter flutter floozy flood
fluent flowing in forever mud
flummadiddle fairy, frenzy flowing
Where is all this featherheaded foolishness going?
Why should I doubt, why should I fear
When Jesus my High Priest is near?
Would He desert His blood-bought child
And let him sink in sin defiled?
Has He not love and grace combined
With power and wisdom sweetly twined?
So would He leave me to decay
If I neglect sometimes to pray?
How much more faithful He than I,
When sometimes I His name deny
And when my days are filled with cares
And few and far between my prayers.
Why anxious be,
My child, my love?
I rule above
And here below,
Do you not know
That sun and storm
And smooth and rough
All good and ill
Are subject to my will –
for good?
“We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose.”
Romans 8:28
My Ship sails on a stormy sea
thrown by the winds of anger
I was dumped on the yellow sand
I am the lonely one
Ships of foolishness
you were a pique of a dream
Chevron skies
gives way to understanding
in the last light
to devine a course of freedom
What in the world are we doing?
Who are we trying to beat?
It seems like we live our lives running,
as if we are losing our seats.
We never stop building up towers.
We never stop spinning around.
We never stop piling up into piles
everything that we’ve torn down.
Is it that we are pursuing
happiness, like the old phrase?
Or are we chasing the concept of such
blindly straight into the grave?
Somebody please in all honesty
look me right square in the eyes
and tell me the lifestyle we base it all on
won’t ultimately lead to demise.
It’s happened throughout all of history,
each nation eventually falls.
So, history repeats and we all lose our seats...
chasing happiness into the wall.
Antimony Foolishness
Age 51 is often when one’s unable,
To buy the status quo, it’s old and needs mending.
New sports car, how youthful! Refuting the label,
Of premature old age, gray hair pending.
Girl friends need to be added to the stable,
Young women, their company lending,
Immortal aura when sharing their bar table.
What invokes “against aloneness”, or “befriending”?
You’ll find a word “antimonos” in Greek fable.
The element Antimony, #51, is alloy tending,
By emulating its properties, “Romeo” is enabled.
By experimenting with the valence one’s sending,
Reactions occur, some of which may be stable,
But it’s hard to tell if another is bonding or pretending,
Especially, to induce attraction, one increases spending.
Remember to study and use the Periodic Table,
It prolongs youth, the illusion of vitality never ending.
© Chaim Wilson
Many assert “there is no God,”
to escape obeying His Word.
Wanting to avoid God’s control,
They place their ego in the role.
Flaunting the authority of God,
they become victims of Satan’s fraud,
living their lives chasing rabbits,
and get trapped by slavish habits.
Instead of enjoying freedom,
reality feels like a prison.
Ridding themselves of the Divine Czar
leaves men to wonder who they are.
Rejecting God’s authority
leads to a place called Anarchy.
Extolling the goddess of reason
men boldly commit Divine treason.
Men who without God seek happiness,
instead, get feelings of crappiness.
Considering themselves to be wise,
their folly in reason’s face flies.
Man’s foolishness is plain to see,
In widespread societal anarchy.
To think of life without his God
should show man that his mind is flawed.
Before I became a worrier, a rebel, a Spartacus:
I remember listening to an orator on a city bus:
he criticized and enraged some arrogant characters;
he shouted harsh words to the deceiving charlatans,
exposing themselves as hallowed saints in a niche,
when they should have been thrown into a ditch!
Before I attempted to please others,
I realized how naive I was to offer praises:
I had one God to serve, not several gods
who took the appearance of pure divinity;
they had a shining halo over their heads...
ensuing much fear, accusing me of inequity!
Before I had a childish and overt personality,
I trusted anyone and laughed with anybody...
until their derision filled me up with anger;
I broke my connection, realizing it wasn't fair!
Before I diverged from the wrong and dangerous path,
I didn't recognize my naiveness, neither I felt bad vibes;
I helplessly fell into a deep ravine full of vicious vipers:
what spared me death was the laughter of Lady Macbeth!
"Wisdom comes from hearing
Regret comes from speaking"
To be wise so as not to regret
It's not trying to talk.
Klaus is a ravening louse
WHO is his edict-ing house
Where he whips errant fantasy out
There he acts world bell-weather
Strutting and foaming of mouth
His offering Though's really small
A magnifier; here is the call.'
The maiden did shout
What's the slug all about?
So he slid through a crack in the wall
Observing foolishness leading humanity go astray
The eyes of wisdom, perpetually, tearful do stay!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
18 June 2022
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