Long Belies Poems

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So Many Seduced by Rhythmic Pendulum of Trauma and Absurd Normalcy

Intelligent musical talent begins with this, to relearn the timing within our soul,
But other tactical psychological methods are busy swaying to and fro,
To an obvious yet nefarious covert Rhythmic tyranny of Mind Control,
Damaging trauma appears, disappears and reappears so often - irregardless whether anyone of us - really and actually know,
Although - know; you ought to, and know you must, if we're to avoid their evil demonic end goal, by economic slavery boom and bust, 

Why have the masses flocked to what is essentially an obvious Lie..
The hitherto well understood well known treachery of bribery and trickery..to the ill-informed common eye?

Real answers lie within the Agendas of those, 
With high unseen well hidden authority of tyranny.. now beginning to be exposed,

The blame so far as we can see for this all pervasive idiocy, 
Fits squarely into Ancient Babylonian Occult vile Crypto Supremacy,

An unmentionable taboo for Society, though cleverly socially arranged, 
Covertly hostile toward Humanity and our creative force..
By a certain inferiority complexed minority so deranged..
Ah yes - but of course!
A true Dictatorship and Tyranny
can and always will insist..
Upon those that have become uber-Liberal all accepting pacifists.. 

Those yet behind an otherwise obvious - facade of devious fallacy, don't want you to learn the reasons for the lie, 
The mondane so often belies what is hidden within our words; within a sound, 
The truth disguised as anything unprofound, 

Explanation enough as to the premise of why..

The countless masses are now clearly and sadly being systematically psychologically, reduced to a pitiful state of abhorrent dependency,
We would certainly have to mention and be sure to say, 
Please wake up a friend a colleague or a family member now, or at least today,

It is therefore clear that; 
an in-depth searching root cause analysis, apparently can be, 
Brought about and shared through some insightful poetry..

The written and the spoken word,
Do justice to those that cannot nor would never ever be heard, 
So we might then listen in careful piety,

Or do not then be surprised to now find, that there are..

So Many Seduced by Rhythmic Pendulum of Trauma & Absurd Normalcy..


Kurt Hubbard-Beale
28th February 2023
Form: Ballad


This Is Dedicated To the Woman Ilove Who Just Got a Carry Permit For a 45 Caliber Pistol

THE COLOR OF THE WIND WHICH IS WEDDED TO WINTER’S MUSE AND 
                                                     MUSIC

What, color is music?
Is it the color of your lover’s eyes as you wade at water’s edge?
Or more like the colors you view when a child’s giggle makes you young again?
Then again, they could be muted colors……………………. 
opaque in nature, 
but suddenly you breathe on them and alas they glow once more
Royal colors crowned and crowded with admirers who stand in awe of hues hewn with 
precision
Yet if I had to make a decision
I would be urged to opine that music is the color of enjoyment enveloping this entire 
planet which could be in peril 
Allow the music of***laughter to echo through the deepest tunnels and over every 
triumphant mountain

Or music could be the color an artiste  must employ to duplicate a reflection of joy 
which intrudes and reaches into one’s soul and tells you that no matter what, be 
content with that which you were blessed to own, 

And never fill your cup to overflow with the color of greediness or music made to 
grieve

Music is not, of course the color of anger or jealousy
As for me I am making music my  master who advises me to do things zealously
For after all, where would i be without  the magic of music in the middle of madness 
at midnight?
Whatever color music is I know it’s has to be majestically and brilliantly bright
 Yet cannot deafen us to all but mellow melodies
That’s it
Music is the color of a  mid-August breeze 
when heat un-heavies your heart and music gives birth to ease
Music is blue as that breeze which gently blew
While Mrs. Levy’s laundry sways as it clings to a rope, 
suspended on the serenity of a symphony sewn of silk
Music is the color of everything built and born of beauty that belies the notion that 
an emotion is nay a color as well
And oh how much music is there in the vociferous voice of one single bell
Music is the color of a hundred pipers piping as their numbers increase
Music is made when a war has cause to cease
Therefore music must be the color of peace
          © 2011.…. the indupitably prolific poet who, in a short time should be named 
poet lauriet of this site....me.....phreepoetree
 *t...* take the word “laughter” and make an “S” be the first letter before “L”
Form: Narrative

Passive aggressive insubordination against establishmentarian paradigm

Bully me, yours truly 
never ordained, gifted, or blessed
with mien mean characteristic
evoking, jump/kickstarting,
representing, nor zapping
friend or foe courtesy fiery intimidation
if anything aura, charisma, dogma, and karma
emanating, issuing, and oozing out
body electric of one heretofore bookish fellow
immediately facilitates characterization
hashtagged lucubration and manifestation of quietude.

Though true agitation transparent to passersby
soul asylum of sexagenarian beleaguered
with invisible mailer daemons
that hound the psyche
of this doggone muttering bonafide wordsmith.

In argot of polymath author of these words,
(the modestly noteworthy
opportunistic, poetic Matthew Scott Harris)
essentially he describes himself
as a generic simple Simon,
who never met a pieman
his mellow outward demeanor
belies, harbors, and represses
a quaking, raging bull, and seething
tempestuous storm beneath the calm,
which faux placidity
shields a woke monster
(donned in Harris tweed and Scottish tartan)
mashing everything in his wake
courtesy huge feet
resembling puff daddy bear paws.

Though found out later in life
than most muggles
aforementioned humble
human like bipedal hominid
discovered extraordinary ability
to morph from dimwitted dork dweeb
into grim faced, frightful,
albeit gentle unassuming 
pygmy up by the petard giant extraordinaire,
which latent superpower
never served him in good stead
to ward off cruel classmates and peers
tormenting teasing taxing
terrorizing treatment til tears
trickled down my cheeks.

Every now and again,
when some nasty brutish beastly lout 
dares to utter colorful invectives,
a gradual transformation 
slowly but surely occurs 
within every baited cell
(automatically summoned, triggered, 
and unveiled courtesy a bitterly 
deadly force to be reckoned with 
deep within these lovely bones)  
witnessing sudden bravado and daring do
additionally helped along after I discretely 
chomp on powder milk biscuits
(the secret recipe only known 
to forbidding Norwegian bachelor farmers)
giving an unexpected 
judicious Hawaiian punch 
to the loathsome miscreant
(never knowing what hit him)
knocking said thug out in cold blood.

Premium Member A Plea For Awesome Phrase

On a shattered pebble beach my kernel,
becomes this dervish dancing to the maniacal symbol rash tune,
of inchoate monsoon grass beat timpani,
that’s dimly frowned on by sonic virtuoso,
but terms like briny carrageen sea sweep gain purple splotch kudos,
I gaze with indigo ocean eyesight,
 at sheer rock face sunken mould gradient,
where faculties solicit august maxim,
from eternal parchment, grain whirl  sand dune smorgasbord,
mud-strewn psalms primed and pumped by ebbing sotto voce stream,
gust smitten lighthouse whose solitary pulsing wink always welcome,
syntax that gray matter genesis scorned geoform tag, 
I scribble quintains in a quagmire that ooze magma inkling,
prose stolen from jagged facet incline or whatever,
has this elemental moment turned ghost writer by sixth sense?
saline vista swung pivot on tsunami doorway,
brackish carcass rife with clamped seashells as mirror,
weather-worn thoughts skim eccentric apex,
behemoth undertaker facing self-scripted gauntlet,
but this pilgrim shall yearn evermore imbibing loose mist,
with marble slab as jotter and squid ink another fountain pen,
who really knows what tidemark gems may yet surface,
do metaphors sequester diurnal cycles like day/night swop?
rhetorical or not this lambent aspect must be met on grit-etch  blue boulder,
vice-grip of visual plunge belies gravity,
yet this blustery conundrum is just this water drop,
something inconsequential for one clutching at faint will-o-the-wisp, 
pepper-strewn haze does obstruct linguistic odour,
despite a caustic rebuff from deep down warden as inner slant,
zany whirlpool blob grasping at ambiguous twill plume,
faraway tangerine canvass might stir tongue-tied raw sketch,
ingenious quest might throb for charmed portrayal,  
nought shall thwart this dreamer off-course,
spectral pantoum, geometric quatrain, jewel-crust tanka,
prolific silken sentient suzette an overarch odyssey,
regardless of vernal totem, sumptuous literary harvest,
with its dogged catalytic compass point,
to maunder without curb despite prevailing opus storm,
sculptured outcrop on an apt idyllic text,
once off ephemeral from boundless paragon,
a colour burst vocabulary pending but when?

The Color of the Wind Which Is Wedded To Winter's Muse and Music

THE COLOR OF THE WIND WHICH IS WEDDED TO WINTER’S MUSE AND 
                                                     MUSIC

What, color is music?
Is it the color of your lover’s eyes as you wade at water’s edge?
Or more like the colors you view when a child’s giggle makes you young again?
Then again, they could be muted colors……………………. 
opaque in nature, 
but suddenly you breathe on them and alas they glow once more
Royal colors crowned and crowded with admirers who stand in awe of hues hewn with precision
Yet if I had to make a decision
I would be urged to opine that music is the color of enjoyment enveloping this entire planet 
which could be in peril 
Allow the music of***laughter to echo through the deepest tunnels and over every triumphant 
mountain

Or music could be the color an artiste  must employ to duplicate a reflection of joy which 
intrudes and reaches into one’s soul and tells you that no matter what, be content with that 
which you were blessed to own, 

And never fill your cup to overflow with the color of greediness or music made to grieve

Music is not, of course the color of anger or jealousy
As for me I am making music my  master who advises me to do things zealously
For after all, where would i be without  the magic of music in the middle of madness at 
midnight?
Whatever color music is I know it’s has to be majestically and brilliantly bright
 Yet cannot deafen us to all but mellow melodies
That’s it
Music is the color of a  mid-August breeze 
when heat un-heavies your heart and music gives birth to ease
Music is blue as that breeze which gently blew
While Mrs. Levy’s laundry sways as it clings to a rope, 
suspended on the serenity of a symphony sewn of silk
Music is the color of everything built and born of beauty that belies the notion that an emotion 
is nay a color as well
And oh how much music is there in the vociferous voice of one single bell
Music is the color of a hundred pipers piping as their numbers increase
Music is made when a war has cause to cease
Therefore music must be the color of peace
          © 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
 * take the word “laughter” and make an “S” be the first letter before “L”
Form: Monorhyme


Premium Member Embers and Snowflakes Migrating

I descend from Prussian tradition full of frozen rain and fire’s marches

Lagoons and marshes my father and history know about the Baltic Sea where 
                                       
                                         amber 


swims ashore adorned jewelry of hearts and minds now on my lover’s slender 
                                        
                     neck


We share ancestral stories my wife and I of concentration camps and necklaced

innocents declared informers in Apartheid set alight with tyres in hateful petrol 
                            
                          fumes 


and Jewish screams to Genesis in the beginning that was the word when ashes 
                                  
                                  upon ashes 


held all Phoenix’s aground and violence and genocidal anger knows no
                          
                                         boundaries


In flaked photographs and winter ember days set aside for prayer to the 
              
                                                 Universe


avalanches and winter glows are waiting for the solitude of summer’s dawning


when Christmas is just another Sudan desert day abandoned by the God of 
                                          
                                  hellfire


Equidistance from Johannesburg and Koenigsberg belies the message flies away 
                                              
                                           from Peace 


lie lies and old recurrent news in which winter landscapes rarely light the hollow 
                                                           
                                                       eyed

children’s dreams but glowing coal burns brightly when the sky erupts and 
                                                                      
                                                                    hallowed

bombs fall from heaven and I declare snowflakes and ember a luxury problem in 
                                                                                  
                                                             my soul

The Color of the Wind Which Is Wedded To Winter's Muse and Music

THE COLOR OF THE WIND WHICH IS WEDDED TO WINTER’S MUSE AND 
                                                     MUSIC

What, color is music?
Is it the color of your lover’s eyes as you wade at water’s edge?
Or more like the colors you view when a child’s giggle makes you young again?
Then again, they could be muted colors……………………. 
opaque in nature, 
but suddenly you breathe on them and alas they glow once more
Royal colors crowned and crowded with admirers who stand in awe of hues hewn with precision
Yet if I had to make a decision
I would be urged to opine that music is the color of enjoyment enveloping this entire planet 
which could be in peril 
Allow the music of*laughter to echo through the deepest tunnels and over every triumphant 
mountain

Or music could be the color an artiste  must employ when joy reaches into one’s soul and tells 
you that no matter what, be content with that which you were blessed to own, 
And never fill your cup to overflow with the color of greediness or music made to grieve

Music is not, of course the color of anger or jealousy
As for me I am making music my  master who advises me to do things zealously
For after all, where would i be without  the magic of music in the middle of madness at 
midnight?
Whatever color music is I know it’s has to be majestically and brilliantly bright
And can deafen us to all but mellow melodies
That’s it
Music is the color of a  mid-August breeze 
when heat heavies your heart and music gives birth to ease
Music is blue as that breeze which gently blew
While Mrs. Levy’s laundry sways as it clings to a rope, 
suspended on the serenity of a symphony sewn of silk
Music is the color of everything built and born of beauty that belies the notion that an emotion 
is nay a color as well
And oh how much music is there in the vociferous voice of one single bell
Music is the color of a hundred pipers piping as their numbers increase
Music is made when a war has cause to cease
Therefore music must be the color of peace
          © 2011.….Poefree
 * take the word “laughter” and make an “S” be the first letter before “L”

Premium Member The Rebel No Anima No Animus

Archetypes flash straight from a pack of Tarot cards
anti-terror Jing Jang synthesis with neuro-spiritual precision
implants explosive animation from the deep unknown
like a taro rootstock growing wings to fly with found suspension

Stereotactic stereotypes archetypes semi-circling soothing storm clouds
thunderbolts and enlightening darkness are my enema of anxious anger critique
of the mono-morph collision of the scalpel shadow ‘Prozacian’ nemesis
neology of ‘animusity’ of ‘newfoundlandel’ comprehension

Dialectical complementation rises higher and higher culminates in
ethereal transcendence where collective personal unconscious
presents my animus in wishful thinking and projections as 
soft and gentle revel rebel raising entropy in tender conservation to escape from

Dogma categorically demanding artificial classification replacing with dimension
flow and rivers stagnant pools of stream of consciousness evading
sexist fragmentation disenfranchising marginalisation assigning male 
and female emasculated o-variation where seminal origin implantation

Precedes nurture socialised indoctrination assignment of celibate promiscuity
My animus refuses to accept in emotional rejection whether Jung and I read 
symbols from the same page or not of masques façades and liberated self
where academic artistry split hairs and personality for the premise of debate

I am a rebel and claim no higher lower ground of superior distension 
He or she who animates friendly animosity is right and incorrect whatever
common ground belies the provocation I propose but possibly my
presentation of what others mean in kindness is too neutral neuters psyche 

While anima and animus illustrate conclude a symbiotic destination
the starting point of this and that left right up above and side by side
is far too circular an argument when we should start not end in union
Male and female are constructions of disparity of power and repression 

Archetypes are not therefore I am

11th June 2016



Animus-Anima Part II—Animus – Poetry Contest

Sponsor Tom Quigley

Premium Member Work Sets You Free

No words describe, 
sufferings worse than hell,
Goes beyond pure evil, 
even a story cannot tell,
We’ve all seen pictures, 
making grotesque sense,
But only the stench, 
reflects this actual offense. 

Cruelty surpasses cruelty, 
overtaken by hate,
Unique to humanity, 
not a wild animals trait,
Only intelligent creatures,
contrive such events,
Still, the stench belies, 
this ideological offense. 

Infectious propaganda,
turns a (master race) blind,
The urge for slaughter,
becomes industrially refined,
Ever lower they sink, 
pleasure’s more intense,
Til’ the stench alone screams,
a sadistic offense. 

NAZI’S (the final solution). 
for scapegoats of the war,
All innocent victims, 
Fanatical Holocaust,
Left to rot and stink, 
bodies piled so immense,
Until the stench itself,
reeks a nations offense. 

Countless Men, Women,
and Children, loaded like beasts,
Crammed into cattle cars,
one way ticket east,
Some succumbed and died,
via, a ghost train’s torment,
At least spared the stench, 
and last phase of offense,

Seventy five years on, 
since world became aware,
Even now some deny, 
moreover, could not care,
Gas chamber’s, crematoria, 
behind an electric fence,
Stench will never allow,
amnesia of this offense. 

Cryptic sign, above the gates,
reads! (Arbeit Macht Frei) work sets you free!
First take a shower, 
later some cake and tea,
No water in the pipes, 
but, pellets of Zyclone B,
Soon sickly ash rises, 
set free, up a working chimney,

       SS guards standing outside,
       mocking, enjoying a smoke,
“Smell even worse, when they burn,”
      (laughing at their own joke). 
   “Look at the next group praying”
       (again laugh, into their face)
           “We’re the chosen ones,
        The gods who run this place.”


There’s Categorically no defense,
Slaughtering millions without relent,
The stench tries, The stench proves,
The stench condemns, this offense. 

By 
David Kavanagh.

“Only by evidence of truth,
 Can we accuse and adduce.”
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member All Twelve Apostles: A Tyburn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PETER or SIMON the YOUNGER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
slower
lower
grower
thrower
Christ calls~"Have faith,"~slower~lower~rock
Build church~confuse~grower~thrower~flock
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ANDREW the ELDER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
netter
better
   petter   
getter
Catch fish~Greek~Saint~netter~better~first
Bonds~apprise Christ~petter~getter~versed
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JAMES of ZEBEDEE the GREATER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
marvelled
 compelled 
upheld
rebelled
Wonder~victim~marvelled~compelled~zeal
Witness~fiery~upheld~rebelled~peal
~~~~~~~~~~~
JOHN of ZEBEDEE
~~~~~~~~~~~
observed
deserved
conserved
unnerved
Flux~beloved~observed~deserved~great
Cross Christ foot~zeal~conserved~unnerved~trait
~~~~
PHILIP
~~~~
willing
filling
quilling
spilling
Holy Ghost fronts~willing~filling~yearn
Guides Divine Truth~quilling~spilling~learn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BARTHOLOMEW or NATHANIEL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
sincere
adhere
severe
revere
Gospel~devout~sincere~adhere~true
Exquisite pain~severe~revere~blue
~~~~~~~~~~~~
THOMAS the TWIN
~~~~~~~~~~~~
blow out
misdoubt
set out
spread out
Abrupt~doubter~blow out~misdoubt~Word
Farthest preacher~set out~spread out~heard
~~~~~~
MATTHEW
~~~~~~
trolling
goading
probing
coping
Tax collector~trolling~goading~tax
Redirector~probing~coping~ex
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JAMES of ALPHAEUS the LESSER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
minor
signer
shiner
liner
Two James~tax ex~minor~signer~yes
Matthew's brother?~shiner~liner~bless
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JUDE or THADDEUS or LEBBAEUS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
abstract
retract
enact
in fact
Birth name~given~abstract~retract~seal
Early church ruled~enact~in fact~deal
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SIMON the ZEALOT or the CANAANITE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
belies
implies
rabbis
revise
Gentiles~Christians~belies~implies~wise
Law of Moses~rabbis~revise~guys
~~~~~~~~~~~
JUDAS ISCARIOT
~~~~~~~~~~~
doomsday
betray
convey
dismay
Thirty pieces~doomsday~betray~spell
Kiss~Judas Tree~convey~dismay~hell
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Tyburn

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