Batten down the hatches!
Bar the doors!
For the storm looms above
boiling hot with natures wrath.
Stand tall men! Do not waiver!
Or run like the cowards you are
leaving me to tarry through the storm
wrecked by waves and rain
till I'm nothing but
splintered battered wood.
Moments become wet steppingstone
over a stream of consciousness.
At breakfast, a TV delivers omens
with a perky disposition.
Buttering grilled bread, distracted by normality,
slipping through the well-greased gears
of a self-made reality,
then a singing hint of burnt toast
ripples through suddenly aware
nostril hair.
What should you do today -
walk the mood off
or pray brother pray?
Will the monstrous appear,
its likeness --- cute and kittenish,
though even now
new velvet satanic horns
are already budding.
Will the fuzz and fur turn quickly
to scabs and scales?
Sinister left-handed slaps of hysteria
swipe the sweat from wrinkled foreheads.
In a room bereft of natural illumination,
a light on an open laptop is blinking,
imagination types a nightmare
on the underside of its blank screen.
Brains unchecked by reason,
swivel inside their bony portholes,
they search this way and that
for a more feasible fantasy
before this amorphous apprehension
emerges fully clothed
as an all too familiar
mirror image.
Looking back at past
the thought of being alone
facing the future
The end is nigh.
As the sun goes down
on my life aboard a Titanic-like ship,
infinitesimal time
is being sucked into death's vacuum.
Amid all the frenzy
and anguished screams,
a fiddler still carries on
with devil-may-care nonchalance.
He has accepted his fate,
but I'm in a race against time.
How much is left?
How much time
to regurgitate
all the things I've long digested?
The suppressed words
deep within me
that has rotted in abeyance?
How much time is left
to vomit all these unexpressed words
upon family and friends?
Will I finish in time
saying my final goodbyes
and expressing
how I truly feel to all and sundry?
Making apologies
for all slights I've ever caused?
Do I even bother visiting
regrets of unfinished dreams
or mulling over life not fully lived?
After all, these are slowly drowning with me.
All hope is gone,
but I do know one thing,
I shall make peace with the Lord,
praying that he has mercy
on my soul.
Current world reality
Equals with timeline of insanity
Indifference is tempting many'
As an alcove of sanctuary
Solace seeking in ambiguity.'
Abdication hovers in the shadows
Pales of sincerity assailed en-masse
Many souls are impaled upon them
Righteous existence is their foundation
Eons established their warriors are
To be removed' to act in the reordering
The utmost heaven will be reinforced.'
A great purging a new discipling enacted
Former drug dependants alcaholics whores
And murderers plus many others, will be
Sanctified.' by the their struggles through sin.
Carried on the flood of the blood tide amen.'
They will judge the angels and Gods heaven
Will be swept meticulously under His direction
Then are His armies unleashed.' To satans doom
All this preceeded by appointed blood moons'
Sensing impending doom
might be happening soon
a tidal wave comes crashin
straight up typhoon.
urgency upon us
calling out to father
need a savior, he's the one
he runs to help and guide us.
The air gets thicker
time ticking quicker
lights seems to flicker
doctor i feel sicker.
Throat clogging up
grip gets tighter
feeling caught in the crosshairs
yet im still a fighter
Today is the impending
Christianity appears tepid we do not think of it
as a centre of our life.
I dislike all religions they are fairytales for adults
that demands to be taken seriously.
Ladies decorating the church with flowers while secretly
lusting after the vicar.
We remember Blair and Bush both are Christians
in its name, they invaded Iraq and killed thousands
of perfectly innocent people,
The Christians have for hundreds of years and foisted
their version upon masses who already have a god.
The occupiers of Palestine belong to the western culture
and they will be the biggest losers when the weakness
of our insipid culture cracks as the world implode.
The word is out – the snow will come,
The inches still in question.
Make sure you’ve stocked up all your shelves!
(Of course, just a suggestion.)
The hype’s begun; to ratchet fear
Some rules have been suspended
So you may neither shop nor park
In places you intended.
The weathermen repeat this news
At least six times an hour,
The only ones oblivious
Stuck in an ivory tower.
There’s not a lot to do but wait
To see if the prediction
Of what’s impending proves to be
A fact or merely fiction.
The corona virus has crippled the
Economy and the nation
It seems to be on a death trip
Killing everyone it comes
In contact with
With several businesses having to
Closed their doors temporarily
Creates several problems
Like a recession
Businesses can’t pay the workers
If they’re not at work
How will people pay their bills
And have a roof over their heads
It’ll cause people to be homeless
It’s already taken away our social life
Causing people to feel like
Tuna in a can
It’s becoming worse and wide spread
That the shelves in stores are empty
With the items we need the most
Wipes and hand sanitizer
With a deadly virus upon us
Plus the start of a recession and
Hurricane season coming up
What’s to become of us now
Pray and pray hard
Even though it looks bad
Don't lose your faith
Daffodils lead the parade, pushing up past the cold frozen snow, to announce the impending arrival of the rest of the band. Sunshine inspired, she is freezing, but still perky, glad to bring her message of rejuvenation and life to cold, angry women in Sunday School dresses who are also freezing. It is Easter, and who is wearing the prissy little scalloped sweater? No one. We are all wearing heavy ugly dyed fake fur coats, and not so happy about it.
daffodil magic
announcing impending spring
lightly in yellow
Lord I've been trying to get myself together
I've made progress surely you see
So give me some time and some sunny weather
and don't let Skylab fall down on me
I didn't put it up there
I've never even been to that town
So when it falls, please give a call
don't let it pound me into the ground
Amen
I cannot bear to entertain
Thoughts veiled in white, wearing a train
Trimmed in lace and love-adorned
Pretty, pristine, and so I scorn
Thoughts that flicker, quenched again
By the eternal chill within the space
Between, and washes clean the slate;
Bringing at last to a hush, and nearly too late,
A voice to which we all incline
Our seldom happy hearts and ever mournful minds
Which spreads sinful seeds upon withering winds that sear
And birth a most powerful emotion- fear.
The Impending End of Paralysis
In the name of Jesus,
paralysis must flee!
I’ve had enough of being
the stone statue that
everybody pushes over.
Well, at least everyone
who comes into contact
with me that is prone
to commit manipulation.
If there is an elephant
in the room, it is sure
to kick my stoned body over
and press its huge foot into
my chest and face.
It will not let up until
it is done.
Have all the fun you can,
paralysis!
Because the day will come
when I will shed this stony
identity!
I will be like David
with a slingshot
and a rock
and you will be done for!
All our systems will break down
and planes will fall from the sky.
Plagues will stalk the land and
it is hard to stop the hysteria for
it quickens the blood and feeds
all the addictions.
It gives us excuses for
not doing what we should
which in turn
makes systems fail
and hysteria advance.
Even the calmest amongst us
must sense some indecision
and wonder if it is some
frivolous compulsion or
the beginning of a
great shake out,
a cleansing of a species
gone psycho.
In our lemming soul do some run
towards disaster, off the cliff,
that others may survive?
And on the day after,
in the calm of a setting sun,
do we congratulate ourselves for
not being part of the madness,
knowing that we were.
Brain is crackling, crisp, ivory bone dry
Gremlin stuffing cotton behind my eyes
Head begins to swell with torpidity
Vivid mind fading to transparency
Internal membranes breaking down
Thoughts run a deep molasses brown
'Tween thought and motion, expanding rift
Act of sheer will, the body to lift
Limbs grow wooden, ready to fall
Seek out the blessed horizontal
Cover exhaustion with soft frayed quilt
Self-indulgent moment’s guilt
Serotonin sleep dump almost disappointing
Blessed moment of irresponsibility ending
Leaden lids descend on eyes
Fading into a sky blue paradise
3/25/16
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