Long Dark side of the moon Poems
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Last call for alcohol, embargo
on the cargo headed for Fargo?
Bootlegging articles of?
"ConfederationNow",
Boot logger, droned Over all? Foggered... Froggers, sprawled. Farms attacked by competing vows. ++
Blood drained Cows.
Imagine, Gaia hype- our brainwashing, a
sacrifice to a Paul Bunyan Nephilim type, "Savior" moonshining wormwood tea in exchange for Sheep. Believing them to be. Stoned blind in Texas, right wing.
Liquid Media medicinals, points for eveyone West of, Diagonal the Allegheny, best of show, suggestion,
allegiant, allegory. (Oh...allegedly.)
As The King of the North fights zombies that believe the Game of Thrones just fantasy. Conspiracy_ Storytellers of propagandolf, minds of Sauron to keep
eyes Wide-Shut. By Aristocracy.
To "pass" on the proof of those stoned blind in Texas, shekeled, bought, brought a Rose, of Sharon,
from Ticked Karen's, in their own Eden.
Those non-Citizens,
"Christians of the un-Enlightened" l"unacy of Old',
thoughts? NoahmadicHeathens!
Of the tide turning; going South.
The dark side of the moon,
a journey scape of wet dreams in swoon.
To partake the half empty side of drink.
Salt of thirsts.
Cup of wrath of the Directional Winds.
A piracy bloodbath of Nationhood in martyred demarcation zones.
Cusp of swilling blood of the swill,
Apocalyptic feel, fills,
notes of the unveiling of the Whore who Rides the Beast on the Seven Seas. Leviathan is leavened,
rising, ready to eat.
Now, there is censorship on speech on the internet,
then is, when, is then en-Tyrely.
The Gatekeepers at Fallens keep,
keeping freedom, voices "Crying in the Wilderness"',
Peeps out of reach.
Accept for Government (entities) with algorithms, keyloggers, identity id thieves, imagers of the Beast.
Spell binders binding
their articles-of-New-World-Sourcery-Cheaping-Rumpelstiltskin-Seamstitchery-Tailoring-Truth- blinding-digital-mining-slaves for the Wolves,
Kings of the East, Trading Company.
Trading souls for an hour with the Beast.
His freak flag is still out there flying; He never has put it down;
Hope for peace and power to the people; will stay with him; as long as He’s around.
People make remarks about it; and act like they don’t care;
But he bets some wish it was; those days of flowers and flowing hair.
Everybody’s joining up; with the popular opinions;
And persecuting those who chose; not to live in there dominion.
Is this the new reality; if you wear it you can own it;
Or is reality only that which is; convenient for the moment?
Today He pulled his music out; and played some old time tunes;
Savoy Brown, Electric Flag and the dark side of the moon.
Now here we are with newer days; and we still can’t ban the bomb;
How long before the words “we trust in God” from money will be gone?
Oh yeah He trusts; He trust that Standard oil still pays no taxes;
And when put to the forefront most of us; will claim that all’s well when they ask us.
Then again somebody could wind up dead; stranger things have happened you know.
John's dead so is Bobby, Martin too; and all the witness at the grassy knoll.
Need attention, hell yes; He’s looking for anyone who really is paying attention;
And not too busy living out life’s negative contentions.
Black power, women rule, east side, west side; but we the people; grow pale
We’re living in a type of matrix telling us not to pass go but go straight to jail.
Oh your pardon, you’ve never been behind bars; bars don’t make the prison you see;
If you take a closer look; you might notice your choices really aren’t that free
.
Tell him the answer to this; why are we always making people do things our way;
Does this country really try to liberate; or just make a junior U.S.A.?
I’ll tell you what he thinks; we’re to busy trying to survive to bother with injustices;
He thinks that’s how the bureaucrats want it; and he supposes that’s just how it is.
What are you going to do cry; that don’t help; Get violent, that’s not a good deal;
There isn’t anything to do as far as he can see; so give it a break just keep it real.
We the people aren’t happening anymore; that just isn’t nice thing to face now is it?
Who knows, move to Canada maybe; as far as him hoping though; that He’ll never quit
Venus I, II
I
Moonlight shone upon a withered, weary
heart, warped and scarred by a life of many
failures and dreams unfulfilled.
now she is a slave to her own thoughts,
and undying feelings of indifference. sitting
in a carcass of wasted time. like the
persistence of memory.
the master of puppets pulls on her
heartstrings.
tells her to take that
forbidden road.
she lives on the dark side of the moon.
yet her volcanic beauty is like a rare
celestial body.
Galileo laid eyes upon for the first time
through a telescope back in 1610,
and sketched into our history books
for future human beings to gaze at
and be marveled by.
this is what her beauty is like.
Venus is not merely a person, or planet —
she is consciousness.
her eyes are like Egyptian pools,
they show a reflection of her eternal soul
which flows like the Nile;
it could give life to entire civilizations.
this is the source of her beauty,
a fiery, inexplicable warmth
fueled from the embers
that remain burning in her caged soul—
unblemished by time, by age,
and by failure.
Venus is not merely a person, or planet
she is the very essence of life,
and its representation of beauty.
Venus is the trees and the flowers unaware
of the peace they bring to humans.
Venus may not see it, though she glistened
through the cosmos with a radiance that
threatened even that of the moon and the
sun's.
II
yet to her, time is a grain of sand trickling
down in an hourglass
with every
moment
in her life
and every
moment to ever be
only as meaningful as these grains of sand.
she doesn’t see the big picture,
she doesn’t see her beauty,
and these are both great tragedies.
still, she stays on full display in the night sky,
the girl who was afraid to be,
Venus…
Media frenzies gather pace
Camera's focused on our skies
The slightest move by these crafts
Always takes us by surprise
Nations are asking questions
As to why we face these crafts
Confusion meets their replies
For once they cannot draft
More than a week now has passed
Still they hover through the clouds
Daily life is not the same
Even thoughts are heard out loud
The world awoke one morning
For above these crafts already here
Floating cities in the sky
Perfectly round massive spheres
They must be here for a reason
For the crafts below now descend
Billions of people await transfixed
Is this the beginning of our end
The ship above the Piedras Negras
Now hovers over the Mayan Temple
Silver slide doors open to ajar
The waiting media stand so still
What we call a droid appears in view
It's as if climbing down the steps
Where many have walked to their death
To compensate their godly depth
At the relocated sacrifice alter
A cylinder it appears to leave
It now ascends the steps
What now are we led to believe
Upon the reaching of the cylinder
It opens before it's touched
A scroll is revealed inside
Now in the Governments clutch
The world is now in conference
For the scroll is about to be read
Billions await the news
Religious followers pray in dread
Our year is finally upon you
Many centuries you have had to comply
The warning was in our calender
No more time you have to defy
No sooner had their message been read
They had disappeared from our skies
Their threat, had it all been a warning
Do we humans cheer, or do we despise
The end of the year now approaches
Past events are still in our thoughts
2013 is just around the corner
Is this a lesson, we've just been taught
NASA reports that the shuttle Discovery
Has emerged from the dark side of the moon
Having being hidden from our past events
They are looking to come home real soon
Reports are coming in from Antarctica
The skies turning a deep cobalt blue
Above the Discovery witnesses
Five explosions in sporadic view
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-18.php
An early morn mist that fadeth away
revealeth the goddess that stole this heart.
In radiance, her hair shone as blazing gold
soft-born winds welcomed her that fine day.
Her approach held me silent and steadfast
earth and sky both envied her elegance.
Nothing on earth could her power dispel
nothing could her love's depth ever outlast.
Transfixed, my frozen legs refused to act
for her magnificent beauty brought me fear.
Fear of not knowing why at me she gazed
I wished my lustful thoughts, I could retract.
O' Blessed day, when I saw that loving smile,
her warmth cast forth to calm this lonely soul.
With heart relieved and soul stripped bare,
I saw love's truth, in it was no human guile.
Then, she took my trembling hand and said
words that will forever burn in this glad heart,
"I chose you, for thy spirit needs true love's gift
and with it comes relief from all thou dost dread."
She led me to paradise through beacons of gold.
Emerald eyes sparkling, brighter than the sun.
I watched as mischief grew in the vixen's orbs.
She woke this heart that long ago had grown cold.
Alas, she spoke to me in a gentle lilting voice,
sweet symphonies she crooned in my willing ear.
Beyond the realm of all opulent Utopian dreams
my spirit rose aloft with her. In love, we rejoice.
Up to the stars then to the dark side of the moon.
Ere long we rested where no eyes could intrude
upon tender kisses she bequeathed to my lips.
My lovely goddess surrendered to me in a swoon.
O' what depth of passion between us doth lie.
Breath mingled with breath until the sun rose.
Within my arms she stirred, but for a moment
then snuggled closer with a soft angelic sigh.
She had chosen me to love in that early morn mist.
From dawn to dawn she endowed her glorious gift;
the gift of love, 'twas like no other I had ever known.
My golden haired goddess, lips longing to be kissed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Written with admiration for a talented poet...Robert Lindley.
Robert, thank you for the journey among the brightest stars.
Memories
become sand full of hourglasses.
One thousand snowflakes are one thousand dead cats in the Hudson River.
Memories hurt.
They are Michael Schofield broken out of prison.
Prison is the look on your father’s face.
We had the same face. I used to remember him being younger.
Once he was James Dean going bald and with a cause.
Now he is the weeping willow pretending to be a Christmas tree.
Trees are ebony towers to admire. They take the place of hands, and lips and voices. Sometimes they can speak but only when you aren’t listening.
I hear ghosts I met a long time ago. Their voices mix like bad wine.
They have a lot to say to somebody else.
Words
were daggers but became backfiring nunchucks.
Painting mosaics is more like scribbling outside the lines.
A car with no brakes and no gas.
An automatic pistol being fired by your shadow, armed with toothpaste ammunition. Nothing adds up because math can’t help.
Lithium is the iron curtain to save the free world.
Conversations are only permitted in dolphinese in the broken dunk tank.
Words twist like ivy at Wrigley Field and taste like blood if you impede upon traffic.
Fifty two card pick up and “will you marry me” mean the same thing.
She had no words for either of me, even if I remembered.
Mirrors
are grown in fields on the dark side of the moon.
They are sold to the vain but crawl into the vein.
They shout at jet takeoff volumes.
We use them as search engines even though they don’t have Wi-Fi.
They are the jealous, condescending friend we have to put up with.
A high school dropout who prefers to lean on a wall and do nothing.
Mirrors were made to be smashed. They deserve to go to hell but never do.
They join their cousins the broken beer bottles from West End in a cozy hole
where they can make out with nuclear sludge and give birth to North Korea.
Then they can go on vacation to the beach where they grew up
and create memories that disappear.
He told me who I was and wasn’t without speaking but he was wrong.
Now he won’t look at me and neither will she.
Two-dimensionalism is bliss.
The world in 100 years ... Oh, perish the thought
Former President, Ronald Dump, who was cryogenically frozen following his assassination after winning the ‘No Bull’ Peace Prize in December 2018, has been successfully defrosted.
Ronald Dump recently defeated his son, former President Barrrrron Van Dump, in the lunar by-election. President Dump will be taking up his forty year term at his office-in-the-round penthouse suite at ‘Lunar-Tic Towers’. This magnificent golden palace-like structure is situated on the fringes of the 29th bunker on the dark side of the moon. Naturally, it is a member’s only golf club and entry is strictly by special invitation only. It will be staffed by scantily costumed Honey-Bunny girls and models who the Dump handpicks. They will attend to every need and whim of his guests, unless he requires their expertise "handling."
President Dump will be supported by his android wife, Argenta, (humanoid model number 3060 with real hair and life-like body parts) who superseded the old model 'Milionairluva', who sadly could not be revived due to silicon and botox poisoning which ran rampantly throughout her Barbie doll body
The Lunar-Tic Towers will be totally off limits to the paparazzi so there can be no photographs taken of the Irn Bru brewing facility of his favourite drink which was banned in Scotland. He seeks to insure that no "fake news" stories are leaked by the press.
In his bid to tackle rising unemployment, currently standing at 99.6%, Dump will be advised by his new best friend and strategist, Kym Dung Hung Lo. This humanitarian almost obliterated the human race by detonating a nuclear warhead at the Dung Hung Lo Toy Factory which was caused when Dung Hung Lo threw his dolly out of the pram. So impressed by such a move, Dump hired him and invited Dung Hung Lo to be his number 2 to succeed him.
May God bless the earth, what little is left of her .. she needs all the help she can get with these two lunar tics in charge
6/1/18
100 year Contest sponsored by Brian Davey
Time and again
jovial imp does succeed
at collecting aggregate of infinite moments
nabbing, snagging and yoking yours truly,
a fortitudinous erstwhile
citizen banker travels at warp speed
impossible mission to thwart tempus fugit
analogous to ambuscade by time thief
little rascal who steals
most precious commodity
right before mine myopic eyes
abstract artificial construct
hastens cradle to grave lifespan
hoping chance fellow
space traveler will read
these words, though quite futile
one skeptic could believe
he would experience salvation
prayerfully clasping hands
he doth gently plead
for nought, cuz greed
for immortality a wish
that does exede
by lightyears the outward bounds
for *****sapien breed
damned to die at birth
destroyed by space debris
aliens purportedly buzzfeed
feeling akin to crash test dummy
at mercy where asteroid
can annihilate me I accede.
Seconds, minutes, hours
days, weeks, months
and years speed away
free falling thru space/time continuum
superfluous to request belay,
nevertheless yours asks
for custom made sturdy rope
quite an accomplishment
given such short notice,
which said contrivance
would necessitate being wrapped
(while remaining rapt)
ensconced within outsize
full body jacket beltway
resembling human cocoon
after I pulled up the slack
essentially gifted to dark shadows
twenty four seven -
resembling edge of night
all the while
loosely tethered courtesy gravity
though feeling comfortably numb
zipping by the dark side of the moon
dreaming about Old rotten Gotham
sliding thru behavioral sink,
this while yahoo (me)
courtesy tenuous connection
suddenly severed Earthlink
simultaneously mouthing "Aw, Snap!"
No longer linkedin
with webbed wide world
bitta bing bitta bang
voodoo spell suddenly cast upon
uber hotmail, whereby
his poetic side tumblr unlocked
subsequently he resembles
an infinitesimal across
celestial sea ethereal
poetrysoup amidst creation,
a mere cosmic speck afloat
canvas studded heavens
starry night gallery.
this is a twisted little tale of a moon king cult leader on death row...enjoy and employ
to all of my fans and fanatical fantastics...to all of my disciples of doom...living and breathing on the dark side of the moon
my heart reaches out to you...and it bends and breaks fortified steel locks and iron bars
no matter how near and no matter how far
through prison doors and electrified fences...my grip on the goal has no consequences
through gun tower killers and soul sucking police,priests,politicians,pigs of power and other bad boot lickers
my thoughts transcend time and space...monster in your mind...mad moonbeam in your face
i traded lunatics lies for that terrible truth...i'll see you all soon...on the dark side of the moon
harvest moon's coming like a nuclear blast...seperating the wheat and burning the chaff
i can hear war drums bang and guitars slash as mankind and money turn to mountains of ash
as democracy demons keep singing that same sad song of fools...i'll see you all soon...on the dark side of the moon
condemned and convicted with an addiction that's tragic...my mind mutilates and mangles the masses
the judges and juries of anger and fury,soon they'll scatter and scurry like roaches and rats...9 billion lives spent like genocidal cats
i'll fly like a bat straight out of the pollution...i'll bring a holy holocaust and start a righteous revolution
still i shine like a star to the sad ghosts of gloom...i'll see you all soon...on the dark side of the moon
the moon is now full and the sun is eclipsed...in trances of terror minions go on deathtrips
i slide and i slip...strapped to a black table
brutality beasts brainwashed with bloodlust...believers in fairy tales and fables and diamonds from dust
pronouncing the sentence and pumping the poison...
i sprout wings...i'm free to fly to my kingdom
now i sit on a throne made of thorns and tombstones
ps i love you all and i'll see you all soon...on the dark side of the moon
king lunar the loon
anthony_beesley@yahoo.com
Form:
songer.co/song/qejo3vwk1y2cs4pntmnrhg0q
[Verse 1]
Pink Floyd said,
“All you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be.”
Do you believe it?
How can that be?
A world in which there
Are no dreams,
Where everything
Is only as it seems—
Was Pink kidding me?
If God is dead
And dreams don’t exist,
If love’s a farce
Then I’m set adrift…
It's hard to breathe,
I got to breathe.
[Chorus]
'Cause I believe in the unseen flame,
The whispered voice that calls my name.
Beyond the walls, beyond the cage,
There’s more than quiet desperation’s stage.
A soul can’t breathe, till it believes…
[Verse 2]
Pink Floyd said,
“Hanging on in quiet desperation
Is the English way.”
But is it living,
Or just time's decay?
To trade the fire
For a lifeless day,
To watch the years
Just slip away—
That can’t be all we’re meant to say.
[Chorus]
But I believe in the unseen flame,
The whispered voice that calls my name.
Beyond the walls, beyond the cage,
There’s more than quiet desperation’s stage.
A soul can’t breathe, till it believes…
[Bridge]
What if the dream is more than a dream?
What if the light is more than it seems?
If love is alive, if God still speaks,
Then we’re not bound, we’re not weak.
[Final Chorus]
I believe in the unseen flame,
The whispered voice that calls my name.
Beyond the touch, beyond the see,
There’s a greater life meant to be.
A soul can't breathe, till it believes…
A soul can’t breathe, till it believes…
[Outro]
There's a bright side of the moon
I believe (I believe)… I believe (I believe)… I believe (I believe)… I believe (I believe)…
I believe (I believe)… I believe (I believe)… I believe (I believe)… I believe (I believe)…