Radically erroneous monotheists
have mistakenly substituted
our co-infested
co-operative
co-invested
co-empathic pantheistic HolySpirit's
naturally healthy
resonant EarthTribal bodhisattva powers
of polyculturing communion love and peace
for messianically monoculturing luster
and loneliness
unnaturally unhealthy
irreligiously irritating dissonance
degeneratively devilish
and idolatrous
and disrapturously ecocidal
false-god demonic
anthro-supremacist power
Struggling to survive
against Othered
fundamentally erroneous monotheists.
bootlicking idolatry
He’s a peculiar star
he comes from TV
ambition is his sphere
and his every line is a trick
all know him a notorious liar
whose business is schadenfreude
but many curry his sweet favour
for he has the cowards furry
and an actors need to be flatter'd
He has no quality worthy of entertainment
but we must see him every hour
for he is an hourly promise-breaker
for rashness, superfluous folly and thievery
the world has noted, he has no historical equal
In moral retreat, he outruns any jockey
the treasures of his idolatrous worshipers
he straightway began to strip away, by tariff
too late their despair they will proclaim
but the misery will be well earned
.
.
Fool by bôa
TROUBLE (feat. Nikki Williams) by Parov Stelar
Who Let the Scat out of the Bag by Tape Five
.
Webster: Schadenfreude = enjoyment at the troubles of others.
.
Institutions
Attempt to define
What is not definable
So that adherents
Might own a set
Of concepts..
Which when believed
May be idolatrous to
That which can't be
Defined...
I started the engine of my wagon
And it began spitting the Fires of Dragon:
Hinckley’s alarming shots at Reagan!
But I kept firing Engine and Wagon,
And didn’t stop mouthing ‘Doggone!’
But they were still Hinckley’s insane bullets for Reagan
A finally vomited me at the Temple of Dagon,
For a Philistine bow by The New Pagan,
Wherefore God sent me a stopping Shagan,
With jealous instructions for me in Legon;
Into Smithereens blowing my wagon,
As idolatrous as Misguided Aaron
Mathematics can never calculated
This is elusive, but exclusive
An unpredictable love affair
That has started an evolution
In my heart that has been
Battered and bruised
Formers squandered
My warmth....became melancholy
There was a detachment
Until we began sexing
And you made me your vixen
Out of the dusk
My physicality emerged
Because I was on the verge
Of an explosion of pruriency
And all the while, you smile
Because you brought me to
A celestial euphoria
Beyond a span and omission
I keep pinching myself
To make sure you are
Truly realistic
And not just an addition
To idolatrous statistics
In a kingdom full of cuddles;
'Loving!' said I, 'thing of amour';
My passion is this blessed, crazy muddles;
Heated hot emotions and loins treasures;
Got fever boiling?
Can't control them;
My passion is the comforting lovely
Loving
In a kingdom full of storms
'Loving!' said I, 'thing of sweet.'
The fatherly firm forgiving torn;
In you I’d insist keeps
Covering
I crave the loving, like loving
Loving
I awoke and flung the amour
the fatherly firm forgiving
and the dais never adoring
while I pondered, lover like and poring
the idolatrous intimacy interring not endearing
Much I marveled this warm carcass
Loving
I heard a dear, over fond estranging
That moment my soul grew no longer a stranger;
I saw us in my mind the cuddles
Deep into that darkness caressing;
Soul spread, spirit fed now kissing;
Ever so…Loving
7/13/19
written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Tyrants of the Ruling Sun
Let the universe swallow my slaving soul
As the sorrows surround the sinking shoal
The light lingers before it falls on my face
Edacious echoes engulfed will embrace
Sisyphean stars of sadness will defuse
The barbarians of Babylon will bemuse
Silent screams slumber in nomadic night
As the dogmas of deceit deluge in delight
Wandering waves of woe thru the mist
The blackness bereaves with a feudal fist
Apparitions appease the malefic mind
Idolatrous illusions a cancerous confined
The red moon menstruates the mirthful
A lunatic laughter of the hidden hurtful
Dimensional demons deft in their defend
In impeccant infinity’s imperious amend.
March.24.2018
Alliteration poem
Sponsored by: Silent One
Endlessness
He said:
brevity is the soul of wit..
and said T. S. Eliot:
We can say of Shakespeare, that
never has a man turned so little
knowledge to such great account..
and said Rumi:
knowledge of the world is ignorance..
The endlessness of knowledge
is blessing and curse..
Google is one name..
It is easy to forget
to not allow attention
to experience that
in which all knowledge
appears..
To recognize knowledge
flowing in and out of that
in which it appears..
Knowledge in isolation
we place first
in idolatrous fashion
as we search for
the water in the wave...
Solidity
Separation insists
on our fleshly solidity
and fragmentary lives..
Perception daily strengthen
the confining argument..
We wish for transparency..for melting..
And search for relief
in idolatrous ways..
Until--
Transparency is experienced
as the real self
melting away the too solid flesh
which had convinced
our discomfort
all those years...
Broken-Hearted Caressing Sorrow
Where do you bring a broken heart, damaged dreams that won’t depart?
Where do you go when things fall apart, serving silent screams a la carte?
What do you do with a saddened soul, within a virulent void a skinless sole?
What do you do when you’re in a hole, progressive paranoid a shadow stroll?
Within the stillness of my solitude, a storm exists admits a sacrificing seclude
The eyeful emptiness of a life subdued, the evil enlists a blasphemous brood
Within the veil of my bitter black, the idolatrous infant sleeps in a shackled sac
On the wall, my punitive plaque, of the wounded weeps that scornfully stack
Who will be there for me, to mourn, escaping earth a denticulate dust reborn?
Who will be there for me, to warn, a residual rebirth of a lifeless embryo torn?
Who will kiss me before I dimly die, a wretched wreck in a shattered satirical sky?
Who will be there for me, to cry, a segregated speck ceremonially left to calcify?
Oct.13.2017
Broken-Hearted Poems
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
TRUTH
We are living in disruptive times
voices are loud and angered
shouting change and resistance..
Multiple truths seem to thrive
for brief moments within mixes
of contingency and suffering..
Truth has been curtained
in shadows of triviality..
Our most desperate need
is for Truth to be exposed
calling each of us by that
ancient name: I Am..
Such new recognition
must sooth angered voices
dissolving idolatrous lies
in a morning's new light...
When criminal justice
is not also undiscriminating mercy
it is also not social
or even economic justice.
When political power
is not also self with other empowering
then it is also anti-social
and not sustainable
economic power.
When sacred lives
are not also organic loves,
then we are also logically idolatrous
and not ecologically informed
by Earth's economically regenerative rights
and politically degenerative wrongs.
An Aryan Christ under glass
Is beaming his charity down
As Emma thinks "This too shall pass.",
Regarding the heart of her frown.
Beside Him a handsome young man
Smiles on the same hallowed wall
The same idolatrous plan
Emma believes to be all.--
Pictures on a wall.
There's no sharper pain than being
a crucified Christ who screams while long nails
pierce his palms and people mock him with laughter;
any human being, including me, is too weak to bear
what He suffered to redeem Mankind...
take His place, look down and find no pity.
There's much contradiction to his death,
who were his enemies the idolatrous Romans
or Caiapha the High Priest? Was jealousy the cause of all?
One can point to only one as it was recorded
by the apostle John and others who felt the same agony.
Today some religions don't use soldiers
to put the despised ones on crosses to die,
but persecute them with the help of authorities
who seem fair and free of blame, beware followers of Christ!
Sometimes, I feel like a crucified Christ
whipped, spitted on and ridiculed by the enraged crowds
that are blinded by ignorance and hatred...
instead of welcoming me as their friend, they fear me
and plot against me not knowing that my silence is astuteness.
In the heavy silence
I grope around
In my treasure chest of words
Fumbling to find
The right one…
The word jewel…
Glowing with honesty
Radiating with passion
Emanating love
Displaying desire
Quarried from…
The rock of my heart.
Where is it?
Oh, where is it?
I look at your impassive face
Indifference in every line
Of all I consider fair
And idolatrous.
I continue to search
In the suffocating silence…
Finding a few choice words
I string them along in my mind
Not good enough!
Discarding them,
I search again.
Finally…
In hopeless desperation
I reach across the abyss and…
Caress your check
My fingers saying
What my lips cannot form
And glory of glories
Heaven on earth…
You smile
Leaning your face
Into my hand.
For Treasure Chest Contest
By Anthony Slausen
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