Long Brainwashed Poems

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Premium Member All Your Voices

Once, long distant calls would cost
You, your friends and family so many voices
had to wait, anticipate the budget and the worth
of words said out loud to ride rapid electric lines.
Still sentiments of love freely fly on telepathic planes
while prose and poetry remain yours truly.

When present face to face do you speak truly?
Conversations branch out, chip, splinter into stories, that's the cost.
Fish stretch past arms' length and record breaking climbs pass clouds and planes.
Tell me again how it all began, how many voices
sang out from heaven: Forgiveness for sale! Limited supply, form lines.
Greedy practice, selling soul's salvation, who figures out what it's worth?

Fear can make us pay the selfish who decide our worth.
Are our souls and spirits make-believe, a magician's trick or God's, truly?
Conversations of belief from heart or scripted lines
brainwashed or sincerely swayed, choice has a cost---
Cross your fingers, chant the scriptures, sing with all your voices
until it's real or a lie you can live with, insured for your departure in heaven's plane.

If a soldier's plane crashes, angelic eagles soar, swoop like planes,
nose dive to every soldier because lives are worth
remembering. Telephones shoot words-- bam, bam, bam, fire voices
on ears that bleed worst fears, shattering those who love them truly.
Nothing will ever be sweet or innocent again, this is an impossible cost.
War kills conversations, steals final farewell lines.

Songs please draw forgiving lines,
to rise over hatred in unarmed planes
for a bird's eye perspective to consider the cost
of love lost in doubt, its worth.
Love lights up any sort of soul, truly.
It's power hurls bolts through nerves that revive the mystic voices...

Devils, misfits, do-gooders, cherubs and chumps-- let's hear all your voices!
Call out to love, it won't resist, will cross any line
to save who is good or bad-- it desires everyone, truly
Here comes the light, hear comes our flight, listen for the plane
Remember it's insane to worry about your worth,
to be, to be, is miracle enough, we can't comprehend the cost.

Solo fly or get in line formation with you plane
Lift off, blast past hatred to reach Love's treasure of unimaginable worth.
Truly precious, so protect it, Love in all your actions no matter what the cost
Form: Sestina


Faulty Source

All of these concepts we have learned to believe, they’re nonsense. Don’t worry as we were just following lead. We couldn’t see any different because we were brainwashed with their creed. They convinced us of our roles, which were to take on unquestionably. The parts we play were created by ancestors past generations who also couldn’t see, the very blueprint of living they’d been following. It was built from another’s fears that they themselves didn’t believe. Faith was a villain at some point in history, as it allowed us to trek on the same road, we saw others suffering on miserably. That same very word, allowed a deeper voice to be heard eventually. It was only when we found the source of our pain and misery that we detached from it, like a cord from a faulty outlet who no longer supports our needs. We have realized we channel and manifest the good, the bad, the in between, and then the universe delivers generously. We can now safely discard those GPS instructions for living, that were installed before infancy. They only took us to places where someone else’s imagination would limit our ability to think freely. So burn the old books and stories they fed. Delete the old routes to living that were embedded in your head. You don’t have to put on a costume just because the generations before you did. Society is finally waking up and seeing the truth, we have all been pawns in a game of chess unable to make our own move. I choose to start living before the end of my line, which makes a full circle back with a new message in tact, just follow your heart. No more following someone else's map.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Puppy Meets Her Future

She was as naïve and honest 
as he was unscrupulous.
Her sincerity resonated in direct contradiction
 to his entire clan’s diabolical ways.

Unsophisticated, unused to any form of deceit,
she fell hard for his bad boy looks and manners.
We tried to keep contact with her, but 
she was quickly secluded, to be brainwashed.

We want to have our alone time, he told us.
His face was a sneer. To keep knocking made him angry.

She no longer had a cell phone, she was pretty much banished.
Underhandedly and methodically, he proceeded to squelch her light.

We saw her on the street occasionally, but he was with her.
Holding her arm, and he was the one who responded to us.
He had stolen her right out from under our eyes
led her like a puppy to his future plans of squelching.
Form: Narrative

Metamorphsis

For days and days the Professor would stay at Bingo Mountain. He meet people who brainwashed him into evil.ell respected, he'd lead the cause against tainted honey: now he make a batch of Carmel to add to the corny sweet syrups to fool a public into thinking they had purchase the best. Not only that he had developed a hideous habit. Eating the larvae and wasp and honey bees that he
had cultivated for study and breeding. It's said that he asked a chef to mix a fruity cocktail of nectar and wasps that he might devour them. A scientist there was world renewed, he had developed a potion that could change a moral man into a Hercules type person. They developed the Nectar of the Jupiter !
He had only to completely change his diet and had his blood filtered by a machine that recreated him into asuper human. Vile and wicked he became. One day The Shadowy Demon who had purchased his soul told
him he would be leaving never to be seen again. He gave him paper that made The Professor the ceo of Bingo Mountain and all his business ventures. Pollen Grafting machines and Pollen collectors would make him a richer person.Then he stood before the Professor and said " Never believe you ever met me:I am as strange to you as the day we met!" than he vanished into thin air!
Cultivating habits that promote personal growth, well being and an overall quality of life.
" Ripples in stream, where the moss covered slippery rocks are the only things beneath your feet!" " in I love the new me:such an affirmation cements the bonification of my need to love: I do love me so much!" Then he spoke to his new position: "sacred I stand ilmortal ,me among the Muses,Mnemosyne, the ancients shall remember me through there Muses until they bend there knees in submission!" "I am the solvent to all questions of art and science< I am the then< the now and future of both a model to stand through the ages!" He stood there
laughing: his evil laugh!

From Inspiration of a Hero
writtem by:Stem and Kirsch Fortissimo
for Bold and Powerful Sound Inc.
Story Music/ Drama-Animation
Doctor Wolfgang Sinister
the animated series
Jean Jinglers
and platform Shoes
Form: Bio

Premium Member Cult of Death

The weak, the rich
The poor, the strong
Are pulled into worlds 
Where they never belonged
 
Mothers, brothers
Fathers, daughters
Minds succumbed
Brainwashed slaughter
 
The Peoples Temple
November, 1978
Over 900 slaughtered
In suicide bait
 
What drives a man
To wanton kill
To take so many
So he full-fills
 
To preach his words
And then to maim
It's not the claim
Of a decent mans fame
 
Leo Ryan
A Congress man true
In the line of duty died
The only one too
 
Cut down at the airport
On his mission to right
Three journalists also
With safety in site
 
In our modern world
Cults will rise
The more they bring horror
We will all despise


In Memory of Congressman Mr Leo Ryan


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss.php
Form: Rhyme


Baku and a Swedish cook

Baku and the Swedish cook 

It sounds impossible, but 72 years ago, I was
a galley-boy on an old tank ship loading
oil for Iceland, a country with watery beer 
Baku, I remember the long avenue, empty
of people and poorly lit.

The cook and I had gone ashore, and we were 
the only one who dared me, because I had
not been brainwashed, and the cook who 
was Swedish, Stige Hellander, his name, and
a communist

There was a party somewhere near the men
Who wore a double-breasted suit to grow in
and padded shoulder, making them look odd
Oh, yes, they were party functionaries
Stige, the cook, enjoyed himself with free vodka.

They put it in a corner with a bottle of  milk
and bars of chocolate, until it was time to go
back onboard, Stige, the cook, sang rude songs
Now, seventy-two years later, I learn that Baku 
is not in Russia
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC

Premium Member When time is served

Today reading an article on moral rights 
trying to justify an evil act preformed for the greater good 
promoting it as a cure derived from murder these worldly writers 
For me it was like reading a letter from Judas agreeing with barbarism  
it accused those that do not wish to partake in this sacrifice 
as disease spreaders judging within its contents incorrect 
Unholy acts against the innocent pushing upside down narrative
The truth's not in error, its the falsehood that proclaims it to be so
many of those brainwashed claim to be whiter than snow 
one thing for sure when your eyes and ears see and hear horror 
nothing inside this world can change your mind when properly set 
We all know right from wrong regardless of where we are at 
you can justify about anything 
if God's words are left out of the subject at hand
The greatest of all sins is breaking the commandments
quoting it as religious to think of other people
whilst turning a blind eye on genocide
mark my words there is many claiming to be filled with wisdom and the Holy Spirit
 yet supporting the crooked path drenched in the blood of martyrs
The road is long when you have lost all direction to think straight
take a good long hard look in the mirror 
we have only one chance to save our soul, death it comes to us all

Premium Member Controlling Energy

Voices of the silent whispers echo deeply disturbing fact 
debates hold principle those with brains tear down structures 
human rights ignored opening up a can of worms within morals 
where truth is hidden away questions agenda 
envelope of forgotten yesterdays sealed fate 

Honour amongst thieves new world order social control 
handshakes grasp secret societies revealing dark shades 
cover ups underneath the veil careless actions endanger security 
desert storm powered by the central bank hidden secrets leak oil 
  
Where the so called elite are born without sin lawless diamonds 
with their silver spoons attached empty vessels without moral right 
classifies perfection untouchable agents of death 
In the heart of a free man looking at the system 
creating slavery cutting wages spying imprisoning freedom of choice 

Applying pressure drones killing families 
within a cloud of dust or inside evidence to support such horror actions 
criminal murderers sitting in their offices should be banged to rights 
leaving no place for hope or a just democracy strikes issues flawed  
To fatten their purses behind the revolving doors open guess
 
Suffering begins with espionage
 loveless pride exposing sheltered acts 
dragging your heals security council protecting the vulnerable's need  
instead liberal intelligence with your reductions clearly speak volumes  
threatening the poorer field positions you without care 

Royalty who profit from others pain hidden agendas lie 
conspiracy theories can carry truth to the button 
because something is hidden away under dressing why 
we ask ourselves those not brainwashed 
dirty arms deals laundering ill got money gains 
The heads of states 
they are clearly breaking the law
justice is so corrupt fact 
every Joe soap knows 
they only give us the partial truth 
optic nerve cell centre brings up a live wire 
They do not give a rats **** 
who use uranium tipped enriched missals 
poisoning the earth's crust stringing us along as peace keepers 
arming terrorists is an act of war against peace makers 
countless innocent have died at the hands of murderers

Premium Member Darkness Insight

Immoral codes of conduct displayed 
as the blind begin leading us 
haywire inside cover ups 
a spiral down 
lacking moral conscious 
burning democracies seal

Dressing up barbaric acts 
Coldly to suit arms astray 
two left feet without wings 
you will fall ill with agendas of greed.

Pure and simple facts 
power hungry nations are involved 
stealing lands filled with riches 
gas joker sinfully lusting blood drenched diamonds
gold filled with the burning desires of their pride 
consumed hateful anti matter spills out

Black oil means control and domination 
over energy and water a must to turn coils 
rewind around living waters 
our gift from heavens source
a basic right to existence

Now we who see the light 
know the truth so to speak honestly 
it has only one face open to suggestions 
Dirty secret societies exist elitists club members

Liars run for government's these days 
filled with falsehoods that has no valid grounds 
truly naked to fowl deeds exposed underhanded 
Deeper than ice we see cold darkness cuts 
in certain acts and deeds bared to the bone 

Those who purge this planet 
The frozen hearted beasts 
killing innocence of children 
they are unholy in God's light

This whole world in truth 
is running upside down with excuses 

I can see war looming close 
as the deceiver gains power 
over the peoples freedom chains exposed 
to choose correctly brainwashed slaves

For peace and goodness sake 
open your soul turn away from the fire 
before only ash remains smothered 
hope shines dressed in white
Darkness you cloud horizons sky 
mushrooms dawning light 
without mercy and dignity

Writer for eternity

Writer for eternity by Adejola Joseph Author of Cracks On The Walls (poetry) 2022. An award winning poet from Osun State Nigeria. 
Writer for eternity
To change the course of history we have to write
To bring sanity and senses into humanity we have to write
To change the narratives and navigation of a phenomenon we have to write
To right the wrongs and amend the anomalies of attitude we have to write
To relay history bringing the past to the present and the present to the future we have to write
To entertain, to educate, to impact and to correct the society we have to write
To deny injustice and bring peace in times of war we have to write
To change minds and influence opinions we have to write
To connect and communicate we have to write
To conjugate and intimate we have to write
I talk about the good aspect of writing
Writing can kill too
Writing can cause war and destabilises a society too
Writing can corrupt minds and initiate the spirit of man too
Writing can brainwashed the simple and the weak too
Writing can misinform and disorganised a good setting too
Writer for eternity
Writers are builders and destroyers as well
Writer for eternity
I write
Writing brings joy
As the pen marries the paper tears of joy flooded the eyes
What a joy when someone picks up your work!
It shows you have got a stuff in there
Writer for eternity
I write. Prof Adejola Joseph.

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace