Who knows the neat stories of the prophets
The real nice true stories ~
Knows to write about them.
The skies above are clear of human hate,
They don't know temples, churches, or mosque gate.
The birds that fly from branch to foreign land ,
Don't carry holy wars inside their hand.
They sing one song, a language of the wind,
Their faith is in the worms they hope to find.
No borders etched in prayer to keep them bound,
No dogma in the nesting spots they've found.
We split the earth with concepts of our soul,
Then turn on brothers, breaking every whole.
But if the sky had chosen sides to keep,
Its clouds would split, and even stars would weep.
If feathers had a colour , creed or name,
The air we breathe would surely burst to flame.
No gentle rain would nurture life from seed,
But drops of red to satisfy our greed.
A final, bloody from clouds above,
Proving our God is surely not just Love.1
Bang my bongos and I'll pluck your big bouzouki
or shake your maracas at me
and I'll rattle my tambourine for you
it's all it takes to make beautiful music together
undeniably the right thing to do
which in and of itself is an ambitious endeavour
but as the tectonic plates in my fate all shift
I'm starved for intelligent conversation
in this intellectual wilderness there's a rift
how long can I hold my breath in negation
living here among losers in the land of make-believe
where they can only relate to characters on television
and rude loud local yokels dumb everything down
Lord I'm not truly grateful for what I am about to receive
from these ignorant arrogant violent clowns
We are in a new Guilded Age
Sucking the teats of the ultra-rich and powerful
Holding our breath
To ensure we survive
While the elites get their spaceship
The rest of us get cheap makeup
Biding our time
To hopefully survive
Demigods with cattle prods
Keep us all in line
Silence the public voice
So megalomaniacs get enshrined
Battle-bruised hands stretch out
Only to be removed in zip-ties
Your questions will be ignored
answers bathed in our frigid lies
My word is bond, see
My palm lines don't tell no lies
The end is unknown
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
Juicy Couture
Juicy Couture
Dont make ish like this no more
Bring back good fashion
SHEIN is tired
Wool, silk, linens
Put polyester in a fire
The fads have faded
Trends are tired
Give us proper clothes
Our situation is dire
This waste, this consumption
Our society is plagued
This greed, this hunger
Buying through guilt and rage
A human hole
Fill it with stuff
Emotions take hold
Fill it with fluff
No depth
Less dimension
Sorrowfully empty
Riddled with tension
It tugs, it pulls
Waits for your truth
It gnaws, it scream
Be the sleuth
No one can understand
First, you must learn
Self-discovering journey
Then peace you will earn
No hole, only hope
No greed, but gratitude
Find yourself chanting
No woes, but platitudes
Their tales old as time
Hold truth in every rhyme
Follow a life of your design
Don't believe it?
This is the sign.
Unlearned and ignorant,
Mere nobodies,
Just fishermen,
Inferior mortals,
Far below
Proud priest and Pharisee and scribe.
For such to preach or teach
Within those holy temple walls
Was tantamount to blasphemy –
Just like that other man from Galilee.
No problem that
For two apostles bold,
Fresh-fired by God
To minister his mighty word
And heal a cripple forty years from birth.
Unscared by priestly threats,
They blazed the scene
With resurrection life.
Unlearned and ignorant maybe,
But far above proud priest
And Pharisee and scribe
Supreme they stood,
And spoke those holy words,
“There is no other name
By which we must be saved.”
And rulers, elders, scribes and haughty priests
Compelled to marvel
And to note
“These men had been with Jesus.”
Read about it in Acts chapter 4.
When I was young I did not know you, thoughts were positive that I was a good person
You came into my life, I started second guessing myself
"Maybe I wasn't such a good person" I thought
Now I truly believe in you, and I know faithfully that you exist in everything
I'm told I'm a sinner, a killer, weak and insignificant
I question is it better to know you
Or to be ignorant
Why do those closest to you suffer?
ignoring ignorance annoys the ignorant ~ indulge them? I can't
same old redundant story ~ on a soap box for an ounce of glory
too much of the same old chatter ~ spewed from the mouth of a Mad Hatter
Alice will gladly pet the Cheshire Cat ~ if it'd make him chase a rat
to all en bloc, don't swallow that drink ~ write your own poetry with ink
Inez is haughty and stuck up said they
I did not care, decided to meet her and stay
Having heard their strange ideas before
They stereotyped people forevermore
All Africans are this, all Irish are that
All redheads cook with used lard from a vat
All older women eat bland unseasoned food
Their generalizations are simply ignorant and rude
I met Inez who was a delight, not stuck up, just shy
Had supper with her and her lovely African guy
About people I always make up my own mind
Generalizations are ignorant; most are also unkind.
In ivory towers, oblivious reigns,
Blind to the weight of scholarly chains,
Reports unread, insights ignored,
The fruits of labour, rashly scored.
Heads turn away from midnight oil,
Unseeing depths of earnest toil,
Quality dismissed with careless ease,
As if research grew on trees.
Passion exploited, dedication scorned,
Complexity of thought, summarily shorn,
"Just another paper," they decree,
Failing to grasp what they can't see.
Understanding falters at the gate,
Where ignorance sits in high estate,
Dismissing years of careful thought,
As if such work was dearly bought.
In halls of power, a tragic play,
Where value's judged by yesterday,
And those who push the bounds of knowing,
Find recognition never growing.
O, the irony of learned spaces,
Where wisdom often hides its traces,
And those entrusted with the helm,
Fail to fathom their realm.
Blind keepers,
mind readers,
throw them in the pod.
Make them think they have a way
to see through all the fog.
Let them start with nothing,
they’ll grow up and think they’ve won.
Set the stage so from the play
they’ll add things one by one.
They’ll come up with conclusions
thinking they’ve figured it out,
and all the while just watch them
cuz that’s what it’s all about.
Today, I'm lost for words,
something seems so absurd.
Ignorant perceptions,
lead to blind deceptions.
My mind begins to rot,
being judged for that i'm not.
I curse those erratic eyes,
full of superficial cries.
In your selfish desire,
you wanna set me on fire,
wrap my neck in barb wire,
then you think I'm a liar!
Hatred has your thoughts ruled,
you're in need to be re-schooled.
Venom that has you fooled,
means your heart can't be cooled.
Save your sorry's, there's no need,
you just want to see me bleed,
but trust me you wont succeed,
on my success you won't feed.
The mirror is ignorant
Of what I know is the truth:
Youth repelling the elements -
A smooth face untouched by grief -
An expression revealing no thought
Whose round eyes of ocean blue
Can't focus in on a plot -
Can't see vandals for what they do
But this face is aware of things
From academia and abroad -
Challenged by touch and theory -
Although my peers might say not
And my opinions - they run deep -
Diverse in classifications -
My humility - held steady -
By the years of my burdens.
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