Long Amphitheater Poems
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The Dogs of War are on a Blood Trail.
The first, Blinken, of many vermin that will lead to Biden's son, who is up a tree hiding, will soon be devoured.
Just before Hunter, now hunted, is tracked down and torn to shreds by public scrutiny and judicial process, will he likely take his own life, being the coward that he is, to spare his father from further embarrassment?
Or, due to his own frailty, and utter corruption, will the resident and cheat, father Biden, suffer and collapse from heart failure by the sheer weight of his own sins?
The story is unfolding, like a Shakespearean masterpiece, that will be retold for centuries to come.
Nixon, Kennedy... will be like children's Mother Goose stories compared to this epic, Romanesque drama of fortune, tyranny, and betrayal.
So great, they may have to edit Dante's Inferno, just to include the heads of Biden weeping on that icy lake.
Now, lay quietly in the bushes, from vantage points, and peer down on the amphitheater before you.
The stage is set.
The General, Trump, can be seen lurking in the rafters as his legion are concealed within the trees at the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest.
Will there be an Arminius, a Republican, who had acquired Democrat citizenship, that will lead the 50 FBI agents into ambush, and perhaps lead to the fall of Rome, a.k.a. the Democratic Party?
There won't be enough bread and circuses to save the Plantation Party after this loss... one can only hope.
by,
Martin Braun
4/23/2023
Source: rep harriet hageman calls for anthony blinken to appear before weaponization committee over intel letter about hunter biden laptop
Bizarre and illogical
the successions of images
unthinking in the mind
the mixture of visual
experiences influenced by
the happening's of the
wakened world
ideas, emotions and sensations
Frustrations from the debate of
two people who believed that building
a bridge over the Cook Strait was
a good idea.
His restless mind found him trouble
he dreamed of him being on
a horse
along side a woman on
her horse
with ice-cream in there back pockets
with horses following them
It's beleived he awaken from
the dream inspired to
to build an under ground amphitheater
there he'd televise shows
across the world
Faith is like wifi
invisible to the eye but connects you to what you need.
Faith is the cornerstone of wholesome living
it brings you to a fearless place of love
Faith is a friend you will never lose
as long as you speak to it often
Faith is a pair of wings in full flight
or a light at the end of the tunnel
Faith is a gift given at birth
it takes us there, time and time again
Faith is a delicate egg ready to hatch
a seedling in the ground needing water
Faith is a rose in full bloom
a giant in an amphitheater room
F A I T H
Could it be thoughts, images in my head
or dreams painted with colors in acrylic and water
that keeps me upright in the storm
in tough times and desert wanderings
Sensory impressions in the awake state
with pleasure, expectations
embroidered in artistic decorative stitching
An amphitheater oasis that is reflected in the water mirror
early morning with plenty of time, peace and tranquility
Discover the giant beech trees
which climbs boldly up toward the sky
Carefully tread on the metre-long carpets
with white and blue anemones
Picking gold in the forest, the chanterelles, for breakfast
Listen to the enormous variety of birdsong
as I rest on the bright green moss
Taking a lovely morning walk along the Ness
while spending a few days at Inverness
this walk has many grand features on its way
get the winter clothing on, no need to fashion dress
We pass firstly 3 statutes - faith, hope, and charity
at a small garden near the church at Ness bank
then further along a memorial for Elizabeth Caveth
a WW1 nurse who saved lives then, many gave thanks
Many of nature's highlights may be seen nearby
having some trees with a fountain at the side
along with red squirrels, otters, herons, and bats
on this Ness island such delights on your ride
The river glides past the island on either side
it can be dangerous as its fast flows so deep
this is in middle between a couple of suspension bridges
these were built in 1828 still standing strong to keep
Walking over onto the island you'll find 'Nessie'
the wooden version that's motionless and still
then there's a small amphitheater so grand
where in the 50s summer dancing was the drill
Coming back to the city on the west bank
passing the RNI* chapel and Eden Court theatre
which is a lovely mixture of old and new
St Andrews Cathedral then highlights the highest rank
In coming back along to the city look up high
your eyes feast on the castle along the skyline
well, a lovely way to spend a January morning
strolling along the River Ness, a joy so very fine
(*Royal Northern Infirmary (hospital).
(I have written this piece having spent a few days in the city of Inverness last month, the unofficial capital of the Scottish Highlands.)
In the realm of shadow where memories are born and die unnaturally,
And stars watch in silence, reflecting celestial nostalgias.
The Moon dresses in the silk of night, preparing for union,
With the night's dew, in a celestial dance, a wedding whispered by the stars.
I often dreamed of being the thief who steals your tomorrow,
Through weaves of thoughts as lost as clouds over hills,
To share with me the same sliver of universe and the same bread,
And the coming years, in destiny's chain, to lay as our spread.
At the feast of our souls, the cup brimmed full,
With old wine mixed with joy and bitterness, on the spent table.
Minstrels of pain divining in strings hidden memories and regrets,
On the branch, a rare flower hangs its head, in a frosty song.
Waiting for you, seasons came and left without touching my threshold,
And the cherry tree, once witness to our frolic, now sheds its love like a halo.
On the arcade time has woven a cloak of times and ages that has defeated us,
In an eternal cycle of laughter and tears, leaves lose their nature.
I wounded a year and a dream, through fields of poppies aflame with the daystar,
Understanding gazes sought to overturn on the brow a butterfly's kiss.
So, was it love or just ripples upon a tranquil lake?
We, to answer, bleed unraveling skeins of time betrayed.
Desire has dried on lips, like an amphitheater devoid of applause,
Pitchers of promises overturned on paths where time breaks,
And the thorn, in the wing's embrace, blushes an ocean of petals in silence.
The sleep of the seasons sifts waves of rustle over tired eyelashes,
When bells ring devoutly, in volleys of song to the courts of the open heavens,
And angels unleash the dawn, letting light fall into clumps of dream.
On paths, dirges fade, among leaves, in mysteries that gnaw in foreign words,
When I awoke with a smile on my face, in the folds of my soul now serene.
Fear acclimated to my very senses, a dire undertaking
This is, living in the present, yet a time traveling mind
Sent me to relive the past, not to learn from it, but as
Punishment, a judgement of my weakness that silenced me post haste.
A dead heart yearning to beat another day, it's dying remorse for careless actions performed against me in
The cinema of my mind, a dark gothic amphitheater to which I am haunted by spectrals of the abuse forced upon my brain and body.
I was not alone in this as my brother received the greater recompense for crimes he never, nor I, committed.
Byproducts of guilt to shame us in to believing we were just
No good.
How then did he escape though I lagged behind?
Not through death, but in to an echo of the desert longing
For an oasis that was far more dangerous than the last.
Bereft, I succumbed to the eternal heights of insanity, feverishly grabbing whatever I could that would do my sack of skin harm in hopes that I might escape this realm.
To no avail.
I searched on and on for a lantern of heaven to guide me
To keep me safe, and for a season I was, but I suffered far
More for a belief that in the end did me no good.
There's no escape, no end in sight.
Yet if I could give up, I'd do it with all my might.
Still, in my pajamas, cold, ‘tis Winter.
Purple and gray wool socks, and still, cold feet.
Yet i’d walk down into the oaks, with sun’s
light be soaked, at the Summer-plumed heartbeat.
Into the glowing moss and down the hill,
like my grand, who’d make glorious foothold
into the street. Still, alone, basking in
happiness, woolen feet waltzing, toes cold,
knuckles chapping, clapping of my steepled
fingers. dry and joyful lips, arising,
Dizzy, I'd survey the amphitheater -
steam of cold-heat, underfoot apprising.
O my soul, the crooning blue signature,
expansive, inexpensive, pensive sky.
Behold God’s goodness directed my way.
Though fibbing from inside, I do not lie.
The arms of my chair, still, caring, hold me
or i’d jetty into my imagination.
There the birds stir up woozy fairyland
with tea and serenity’s coronation.
2/10/2021
Contest: All Yours (Feb 10)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading. There are traps everywhere – “Bibles laid open, millions of surprises,” as Herbert says, fine nets and stratagems.” God is, if I may say it, very unscrupulous.
— C.S. Lewis SURPRISED BY JOY pg. 191
SPECIAL MOMENTS BY GRAND MINTER
Amphitheater snowflakes whirl.
This working girl beset by pearls.
Best December Eve sourced Winter.
I’m surprised of joy by hinter.
Arthritic knees chase a grand dream.
Playground resounds with princess theme.
This castle with childhood splinters.
I’m surprised of joy by hinter.
Figurines and paintings accurs’d
in the soulfulness of Christ birth’d.
Special moments by grand minter.
Surprised of joy by hinter.
12/4/2020
hinter - a slight indication of the existence, approach, or nature of something
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NISkmC_4bNQ
Upstairs, up there, beyond the great divide there is a wide expanse
Outside our solar system above the sky , fifteen beautiful planets
and an amphitheater filled with angels singing to the Universe
Upstairs, up there, there are souls, watching over us in every way
the upper room is full of love and Spirits rooting for our success
journeying aside us they glide in and out of our peripheral vision
appearing like great orbs of light, all full of warmth and bounce
the upper room is full of listeners, that hear us when we cry ,
above us there are so many stars and one blessed moon of blue
and then we have the sun who always knows when, as if on cue
upstairs, up there, beyond the spectrum of our sweet imagination
is a reality more real then anything we ever experienced on earth
Let us choose to believe and suspend our disbelief long enough
to give miracles a chance. Again, I hope , if you get the chance,
I hope you dance.