Injunction Poems

inherit the wind

We are inheriting Art and Arc 
Of trying to understand.  

How once, we were fingers, 
Born of the same common hand.

Miniatures born into this land 
Of thought.

Tactile each, and that ought, 
To have been enough.

But,

In the sound of each brushed whisper
Overheard in the billowing clouds,

We fought the thought
Of the popular injunction.

Loud as a newborn’s cry,
Yet rough
As an unwanted memorry.

We are the ones 
Still trying 

To Understand.

What I See In the Holy Bible

I can see that The Holy Bible
Has not Good Words it kept for Libel:
Whoever has been badly defamed
To not feel like Our Lord ‘The Profaned’

I sort of spot in Holy Bible
The Faces of Men that did it scribble; 
One or Two free with their emotions,
The Rest Inclining to God’s Notions …

I reckon The Forgiveness Command
Wants to Man confine to Mercy Land
And that it is a Grim Injunction
That brooks no Audacious Infraction …

A Sad Mathematics in Bible:
Christ’s stated Seventy Times Seven,
To the Aggrieved quite describable
In terms of An Unfeeling Heaven …

The Hard-kicking portions of Bible
Are its Ever Scary Hell Fires
Which their Happy Writers did scribble; 
Still guilt after lawyers one hires;
I’d want not The Forgiveness invoked
And dying to hear The Hell revoked.

Paying Your Tithe

A time-tested spiritual banking,
Higher and higher one goes in ranking,
Slammed doors sweetly unlocking,
Hindering barriers unblocking…

From the wall one has been flung
And like a bag on a peg hung,
One beautifully bounces off,
Once more cooking better-off
Your trifle not with Malachi 3:10,
God having it written with His Pen;
No chance rubbishing of the injunction,
For whomever must get beyond our junction.

Tithe never is by rude force backed,
Wherefore their payers have often slacked;
Of course, to hellfire straight,
Who even does so late…

As much a robber,
Who could another clobber,
No less, The Shameless Looter,
Who easily turns A Shooter.

Last Words

My memory has been tainted
My mindset had been erased
My thoughts laced in worries
A lost expression painted my face

A place with no mirth
A place with a little injunction
A place brooded over past conversations
The sentences corrupted and caused dysfunction

The ghastly events raced through my head
The past plummeted through all my understanding
The idea of joy is mocked
I find life with constant reprimanding

My New Clothing

Anger has become my clothing
I wear it to party and even to church
Yet God said don't wear this clothing
Because the attire is against what I teach

Then, in obedience to that injunction
I hung anger in my wardrobe
And pretend to obey the instruction
When it's my favourite robe

Oh, miserable me!
I need help
Not for pleasure though
But with all my getting
To get understanding
Of this monstrous contrast.

For I wish in the depth of my soul
To bid perpetual farewell
Not to anger though
But to the spirit behind it

Talking Back

Hey all you temporary oscillators
born to the impetuous posture
you gun jumping rattle shakers
wavering your body English
in a gesture of kinetic ardor
for the passage of time as leverage
against the recognition that what gratifies
and profits and returns a bit of leeway
against the fiats of civic disapproval
is but a starting point a utility
that can no longer avail the authorities
and their hold over luck and venture
yes your countenance is sanctioned
by the blaspheming throne of numbers
and faces no injunction or coercive measure
for the infinite stubby sadisms
that fill the cosmic belly
with degradation and humiliation
a digestive system congenitally supplemented
with self adulation stretched thin
to the point of fragmenting
that jangling tatty chandelier you call a mind
into a hill of lizards
you can't see the horizon from
shiver and blanch to the bulletin that
the lingering scraps of your empire
have been licensed for repossession

They Gave Their Lives

That dreary August Sunday morning
Peace like a river in Ozubulu was flowing
Merchants of death wielding  the tools of their trade were lurking
To strangle peace Of the day just dawning

Vengeance was the mission
Anger from business gone awry the vision
But missing the ultimate prey
They pounced on worshipers assembled to pray

And they died!
Victims of a society in search of lost values
And they were massacred!
Martyrs of a society in a hypocritical quagmire
And they were slaughtered! 
Like lambs on the altar of mammon
And they were brutally sent forth!
Unwilling partakers in man's depravity
And they were summarily dispatched!  
Innocent victims of disobedience to God's injunction
Give to Cesar what belongs to him and to God  His due

But they did not die in vain!
Their demise showed us whom we are
A nation in need of redemption
They gave their lives so that we can live!


.

I Am

Response to trite, the fools disband
to break up solemn trust, now banned
this pagan entity at hand
does turn the righteous from expand!

That adding on grace' contraband
is Soul's renewal, take a stand
refreshing like the summit's span
to gain configuration, land!

From all dissension heal, not damn
this brave encounter, witness grand
the mind's direction open and
the course' attention revels scan!

To comb reality by strand
my own divesture is so planned
the worth of angels in command
a higher level fitting, manned!

Is God's injunction of . . . I AM!

Ooh a Coniferous Z Wow

Circumferences. Blame not a nothing. Understand an ideology of a pickled pair. Falling twigs are pallor. Lips altering. It means a snake talks. Ceaseless chatter of a convertible fish bowl with or without leaves. Directional flow is neither a bud or a raindrop and pallets of ink is an injustice not an injunction. Fly then to the inner realms and let loose. Unless a dipper diver comes past. Interesting but not inverted. Uncentered circulars and unidentifiable shape of a small portion of a pen. In a cart. Cantering. Dare to tango with a cast iron suitcase? Fish in a shark infested estuary with a dingy? That the things the time takes. *** cow cheese cake *** cow cantering crêpes. *** ha is a bucket a knife deal then? *** z. Superficial slug man. Xxxx artificially *** coniferous z.

Storage

Hold onto useless effort, so revile
that anger can endanger, why then smile
it is this brief insurgence we are vile
and to ourselves most guilty in compile!

The working wonder of concepts worthwhile
is building to inception, runs the mile,
the keeper of Invention is not style
but rapt conception of a newer trial!

Restoring dignity, an armor of discourse
from refuse, that dependent samples source,
it is that by experience know resource
is not the score of wealth, not vital . . porous!

Resolve of merit, inner peace concourse
that mind's injunction knows its own remorse,
complacency outnumbers its enforce
as useful only ~ loss is . . . . teaching's storage.

Huxley's Synthesis

Battlefields littered with energies spent
erode the code that once held all firm
as spies disguise to resurrect consent
under malformed skies pacing out a term
transcendent in treacherous manifests
insidious to stave osmosis pure
from organic elements as protests
isolate issue from health to ensure
commonality malfunctions as cells
atomically unravel from function
towards black science sigils unleashing spells
infertile to force our grim injunction
oblong in consumptive revelation
nefarious to plot such stagnation.

Infusing Deceit

Hefty doctrines shape the flesh
with centuries of arrogance from
the thieving classes until every
brand wields potential to kill off
multitudes of souls asleep, yet
no longer dreaming of salvation.

The cocktails inside the needle
whittle down the natural response,
churning fraud from every cell
once hearty and willing to fight all
threats foreign to the host since
instincts get replaced by chemicals

from the plantation owners and
confidence artists painting pictures
of benevolence while stabbing
that canvas of life with shards evil
in intent, corrupted by privilege
taken by force behind those smiles.

Wealth attends as a tool to run
ramshackle as dividends compile
the life force exiled to be shed.
Injection, injunction and doctrine
conspire across generations to
quarry our potential down to hell.

Paying the Bills

Trudging the tracks,
Counting each stake,
For one has it season of takeless respiration.
Date-
Dressed for destiny fate,
With single eye gleaming illumination.
Full throttle ahead.
Paralytic instant,
Jiffy spring of dazzling bright.
Prophesying  visions,
Told in quarter flash interval,
By injunction demand of destine course,
Moving closer to what may be future bound.
Demons taunt every step of the way,
Just one given up breath,
All it takes.
Nickels & dimes,
Wishing well coins,
Laid on the steel rail,
Given titles,
Enough to make a different?
Set,
Hoping for the best,
Praying,
Derailing the locomotive off passage.
Pocket change,
Emptied solitude once again,
Smiling no surprised,
Two cents held hand grip,
Twin President Linocoln speak,
Been down this far too numerous, dreams only show the odds you will not be 
moved off life course."

Annotations For Astronauts

My untimely Lover,
Take in the notion that this 
Is not the proper moment.
This is not the moment to be seen
Or get fed.
This isn't the part where the rain falls
Or when the clouds decide
That beacons should take over by dusk.
I have considered many long nights
Past the judgment of a juvenile mind
And they have all been but forgotten.
I have realized the sentiments 
Of mothers built on morphine
But I have not dismissed 
The outcome of subordinate fathers.
I stepped past an ugly lawn
With a proto type framework
And drifted between the lines,
Mingled with the guests
And smoked my lungs away,
Cried my eyes out,
Or left the football team stupefied.
With this injunction, 
I'm compelled to leave a message
For a penny and a praise.
If this seems questionable,
My ill clad Lover,
Take the time to memorize 
My most infamous traits.
I write smut for a living
And eat sex by the handfuls.

Released

As days wind into moments
sped away too soon -
So memories injunction is a road
so walked upon - but in unfold.

I walk, unwittingly into self-controlled,
and breaking free - remember thee,
the moments we did hold 
released to me again  ...  in truth's extolled!

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