Long Indecency Poems
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And Men, have you no honor?
Sagging your dignity below your knees,
You walk shirtless, muscles exposed,
as though your body were an idol to be worshipped.
lost in a cycle of rebellion mistaken for freedom.
For pride sake, you strip yourselves,
turning your flesh into a snare.
Cover yourselves, for God is watching!
In the name of fashion, nudity is praised.
Girls, stripping bare, selling their bodies to the gaze,
men devouring them with eyes that burn—
but tell me, when did shame become confidence?
When did modesty become outdated?
"He who looks at a woman with lust
has already committed adultery in his heart."
Yet we dress to tempt, and call it empowerment.
sin is called normal, and purity is called foolish.
In the name of celebrities, we mimic demons.
Demonic styles, painted faces, occult symbols—
we tattoo our flesh with curses,
We worship the things that will soon perish.
We alter our bodies and question God,
"Why did You make me this way?"
Oh, the audacity! Oh, the rebellion!
Even I, I confess
was caught in the chains of vanity,
worshiping the gold around my neck,
not knowing I was binding my own destiny.
In the name of music, we defile ourselves.
In the name of quick money, *********** thrives.
In the name of entertainment, holiness is mocked.
And now, the church that once preached righteousness
has become like the world it was commanded to save.
Repent! Repent! Repent before it is too late!
Before the fire consumes, before the judgment falls!
Oh sisters, oh mothers, oh brothers and fathers return!
Before the gates are shut, before mercy fades,
before the truth you called a legend becomes the fire licking at your heels.
REPENT!
For this is no myth—this is truth!
My mother Linda died the other day.
Nobody seemed to care and went away.
Why did I come here with Lenina and Bernard?
What I though would be easy living is now hard
The simple life on the reservation I miss.
There was no rampant carefree promiscuousness.
It seems like everyone is engaged in lust
There’s not a single person here that I trust.
Morals and values seem to be non-existent.
They keep pestering me, and they’re quite persistent.
They poison themselves with those Soma pills.
“Feelies” and other things are where they get their thrills.
They’ve got me ensnared with anxiety and fear.
Not even one person has heard of Shakespeare.
This place is taking its toll on my sanity.
I’m not even sure of my own identity.
This world I now know is full of indecency.
Perhaps in this lighthouse, I’ll find some privacy.
Based on the novel "Brave New World" by the late Aldous Huxley
Politics hypnotizing us
Despising between left and right
It’s dividing us
The stakes are high
News stations frightening the nation with lies
Don’t even know who to trust
This environment is wild and vile
No explanations, can’t even lie with smooth slyness or style
This nation has its own president under hot trial
Five thousand mentions on the Epstein files
Still bombing other countries
We hardly even know
It’s not about politics no more
We’ll be fighting with stones and sticks
The day the United States regains its self control
Even in the parties themselves there’s no immunity
The discontinuity literally as soon as we see
Power under the pressure
Like a pirate guards their treasure
Where’s unity amongst Cornyn and Paxton?
The constant tug of war between dozen of PAC sums
Even for me,
Even some dems, my own allies agree
That I can’t use a bathroom in peace
Without accusations of indecency
And when I go to church, my own religion
It’s like all eyes on me for my considered decisions
I don’t understand the despise on me
To all the haters and indecent sayers
I’ve heard you all before now let me be
Investing billions in elections and zero in love
Love’s no longer on the ballot
It changed to being tough
And I don’t know about you all
But I’m tired of being tough
People saying empty threats and empty bluffs
We respond by acting strong and acting buff
Every slur they call me is a cuff
When does it stop, when is it enough?
Our founding fathers tolerated so we could stand together
Now the consequence if whether
Red or blue wins,
If your opponent wins never,
Unity looks severed forever
Besides voting in November,
How can individuals do better?
I wrote my school board member a letter
Asking to her represent me better
She never wrote me back
Must’ve been return to sender
Or I betcha it never made its way on her desk
Probably was thrown out with the rest
Cause its contents would have her discontent
This poem isn’t even a call to action
It’s more like just telling you I pray to God
That we cut the abstract factions
And see each other equal under law
Our dissatisfaction has already become our own saw
Because we scratched it in half, and with our own claws
Keep on thinking young
for we will all be younger one far day away.
Time will skip away on lightsome sneakers,
time will outrun its miles to go,
time will melt its dream
of a ticking clockwork universe.
Sometime, out of time,
we will return to our prime,
the flower of being
will peak and not wither
nor will we be hostage to
the indecency of untimely entropy
for flesh will not rule over us.
Keep thinking young.
10 million years are but a short dream
for the blossoming of just one soul.
Imagine ten billion souls awakening
like beautiful flowers in Gods garden.
We shall not be old in our minds
and our mind will be our flesh,
our body will be a mirror
of our eternal reality.
Start to be younger today,
here in this mechanical timepiece
of earthly life,
for soon we will be much younger
and our light
will outshine every sun.
March 25 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on 2Samuel 13-16
Key Verse– 2Samuel 14:17 Then thine handmaid said, The word of my lord the king shall now be comfortable: for as an angel of God, so is my lord the king to discern good and bad: therefore the LORD thy God will be with thee.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY WISDOM DISCERNER
Lord God, You are my wisdom Discerner by Your loving correction
Thank You for hearkening unto my humble supplication
Forgive my deceitful subtlety that leads to my destruction
I repent from my folly’s commotion of carnal reaction.
Lord God, You are my wisdom Discerner by Your peaceful calmness
Thank You for considering my beseeching plea and weeping mournfulness
Forgive my hatred and wrath caused by my bitterness
I repent from my badness due to influencing wickedness.
Lord God, You are my wisdom Discerner by Your prudent counsel
Thank You for granting my sincere request for which I prayerfully wrestle
Forgive my iniquity in doubting Your holy epistle
I repent from my fault that hinders me to excel.
Lord God, You are my wisdom Discerner by Your gracious engagement
Thank You for satisfying my heart seeking for Your fulfillment
Forgive my response of unbelief because of discontentment
I repent from my hypocrisy showing lack of commitment.
Lord God, You are my wisdom Discerner by Your righteous justice
Thank You for reigning over my devotion as Your servant-apprentice
Forgive my shallow devotion against diligent stewardship-practice
I repent from my unfaithfulness that defies Your divine notice.
Lord God, You are my wisdom Discerner by Your overtaking mercy
Thank You for restoring my fainting trust with Your love’s fervency
Forgive my conspiracy with worldliness’ indecency
I repent from my pride of humanistic fancy.
Lord God, You are my wisdom Discerner by Your mighty deliverance
Thank You for strengthening my weary hands in godly aim to advance
Forgive my comprises through fleshly arrogance
I repent from my selfishness with personal interest’s endurance.
March 25, 2023
Plucky, we see the pond
With dervish eyes we bond
Dive in the great beyond
And ooh la la
He thinks she’s quite a dish
Handsome’s her one true wish
Into the sheets they swish
With great oompah
Like thrashing out of sea
Steamy fish feel so free
As who they’re meant to be
Waves wild hoopla
Of two young shades of gray
Whipped up, the seas obey
Oui! Oui! Risqué-parlez*
Midlife’s booya!
The calming of the deep
Married love never cheap
Embraced hearts fall asleep
After hoo-ha
3/15/2018
Mick Talbot’s Violette Poetry Contest
*What’s love without a little French ;)
Pronounced: wee wee risk-ay par-lay
Oui - Yes
Risqué - verging on impropriety or indecency (bedroom banter)
Parlez - Speak
Booya - urban dictionary: hell, yeah
Form:
Thunder walked across the sky,
waking the energy waiting there,
and the mountains trembled
in reverent respect
for a presence
greater than they.
Father Sky cried,
unable to convince
the wind to lie down,
and the creatures of Mother Earth
trembled in misunderstanding
for this - the stormy season.
Hawk rose up,
spoke with Thunder,
and trembled
in anticipation
of purification
for all living things.
Darkness covered the people
where they had scarred the land,
and they trembled in fear
for all they'd done
and did not
understand
that with the morning sun
they would have another chance,
and the waters of humanity trembled,
rippling throughout the places
for lessons soon forgotten
under the weight of greed.
Now comes Thunder again,
walking louder,
and the unborn ancestors tremble,
for they will be the hungry ones,
paying the price
in coming after us.
Hawk rises above the noise
of humanity's indecency,
and trembles with hope,
beating in his chest
like a prayer drumming -
if only the people would hear.
If only the people would hear.
God needs your faith
otherwise he disappears behind your eyes
and you both go blind.
There are ancient inspectors looking into
your kidneys and liver.
Their horn-rimmed glasses
peer from under tortoise shells,
they search for any useful ingredients.
The science of looking is very old.
God awakes in a dream of you;
immediately begins
to stuff your hollowness
with blood and guts.
The soil x-rays you,
the sky photoshops your mind
erasing the smudged indecency
of any brain-damaged parts.
Some say this and some say that;
warm breath and cold air
blows through your burning straw.
Both the wise and the simple
allow themselves to be rocked gently
upon their own cupped hands.
Behind the ambiguity, the cloaking metaphor,
the language used is indecent,
it sets bear traps, leers at logic,
claps ears.
Poetry drives a train through heaven and hell,
box cars swaying behind
full of
rowdy, rouged delinquents.
Some have mothers who weep for them,
some were born from mud wombs
as wild as unbranded cattle.
A poem may well bury its dead alive
in front of our eyes,
recite a lullaby backwards,
then plant sweet nothings
over the heaped earth.
Lines of linguistic train wrecks
crash their coupled words
into snowy fields,
then out will come the scatological oaths,
the unglued bawdy survivors
of their own gypsy jargon.
Here’s the sleight of hand,
here’s the real indecency -
we are gulled into assuming
we hear only the shy murmurs
of a deeply respectable muse
dressed up in its Sunday best.
*** Truly? ***
As Trump continues trying to explain,
And science will truly someday
Get it right to prove:
That life is a matter of enchantment,
That mirrors do know
Who is the fairest of them all;
That any “Save the Earth” green
Movement is voiced by the devil,
Because it’s his realm afterall
And the Earth is here to be destroyed;
That children should be kept only out
on the streets
For real education results
From experience not in schools;
That the 2 percent of our population
Is fantastically correct to loudly
Raise arguments against all vaccines
In every issue from poetry to polio;
That conspiracy theorists are actually
Correct to demand the Earth is flat
(Have you been to the edge
to know otherwise?) and
That the moon has had settlements
Of aliens for eons (even with grazing cows);
And, that burning literature out of
school libraries
Will end indecency and lies
To finally return some morality to society.
Truth to policy…let us admit
Authentic democracy is a matter
For the few who know
As determined by the even fewer able to
keep their wealth in foreign banks
Far from the alabaster city’s gleam
And the fruited plains to be seen
from shore to shore.
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(c) sally young eslinger 2/16/22