Long Listen in 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


Lose the Cliches

Lose the clichés of life and love,
no happy ending, no sad ending, no ending at the end at all.
People smile, they don't frown,
people frown, they don't smile;
they curse, they don't listen,
people listen in belief and curse the sky,
when love walks out the door.
Confusing I know.

Poets don't know what the hell is going on.
Writers smoke and never finish a book.
Music is died, the hippies are politicians,
and the past time was never here.
Earth burns slowly,
as wickedness grows quickly,
and greed eats us all alive.

We all die in the end... with no ending at all,
we still go somewhere,
some in the ground,
some in the sky,
some in another.
We all lose,
so don't give up,
don't try either,
don't mope,
don't hope,
don't slouch,
don't feel,
don't cry,
don't laugh,
don't work,
don't drink,
don't smoke,
don't grab ass,
don't stay a virgin,
don't pray to this god,
don't pray to that god,
he's right,
she's a whore,
lost for words, speechless,
full of words, having nothing to say,
politicians win in the end, they always get their way,
to tired to say,
when that day comes,
"I love you."
There is no love between us, never was,
never will be.
You love him, he doesn't love you,
he's with another,
and you're all alone, too dumb to realize,
I was there the whole damn time.
Tired, I am tired,
Lose the Goddamn clichés,
and just die already.
I am tired of losing,
never wining,
always aching,
never smiling,
always frowning,
don't give a damn anymore,
don't give a damn for you,
or him or her,
nobody anymore.
I am not depressed,
you just don't realize what is killing me.
Lose the clichés,
you dumb, little girl,
lose the damn clichés, and work that damn corner,
show some leg,
while I write this poem for you,
pour my heart out for you,
give all my time for you,
lost for words when I'm around you,
all for you,
all for you, all for you,
no girl matters,
no girl counts close to you,
if only you weren't so dumb and stupid to realize
how much I'd give up for you,
how much love I give to you.
They say you're not for me,
but I say no, she's just young and a fool,
yeah, that's right I went there.
A fool, always a fool.
So cut the clichés baby, you don't love him,
and I'll never love you again.
Cry those pointless tears, go ahead, I don't care anymore,
I'm though.

.6.8.2014.

"For that one girl I used to love..."

Family Remembers, Part Iii

III-Jana

Four months following Marie’s conviction,
Jana walked calmly into the prison,
there to see her former sister-in-law,
doing twenty years for sale and possession.

She had a purpose she needed to see through,
Jana had to see Marie and tell her,
so she lied and said that they were engaged,
so they could get the conjugal trailer.

When they brought Marie in, clad in orange,
her eyes lit up at the sight of her friend,
she cried,”Jana, I don’t belong in here!
I’ve done nothing, and yet I’m in the penn!"

“I’ve no idea where those drugs came from,”
she declared as she slumped in the chair.
Said Jana,”There’s no mystery in that.
It was I who put the cocaine there.”

Marie nearly choked, too stunned to speak,
barely managing to croak out a “Why?”
Jana said,”Well, it’s really quite simple,
you are the true reason that my brother died.

“Did you think I ever would forget
what you did to him in that court room?
How you lied and called him an abuser,
when you knew damn straight that it wasn’t true!

“Robby didn’t have a violent bone,
everyone knew that you wore the pants,
you could have just divorced him and gone,
there was no reason to destroy the man!

“And then you go and explain that you left
because Robby didn’t make enough cash?!
For richer or poorer…a joke to you,
you really should not have told me that.

“Your children will be raised by my parents,
who set a far better example than you.
Couldn’t let you go guide their upbringing,
they’d probably turn out evil too!

“You took my brother away from us all,
and you left my poor parents deep in tears,
for that I sentence you to two decades
of living all of your waking moments in fear.

“And don’t think about repeating all this,
in this trailer they cannot listen in.
They’ll believe it the ravings of a scumbag,
desperate to escape her great sins—”

At this post Marie leapt for Jana’s throat,
but Jana swiftly leapt up and jumped back,
she shouted loudly,”Guards’! She’s gone crazy!”
They rushed on in and broke up the attack.

While they subdued Marie there on the floor,
Jana quickly exited the whole scene,
and allowed herself a vengeful smile
at the sound of Marie’s mad, futile screams.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member In the Silence

IN THE SILENCE 

There is a longing in my being,
Someone nudging, also speaking, in the silence.

For ears truly listening, eyes that are watching, 
beyond the acceptance of an unnatural botching, 

Away from the laughing, pointing and gawking,
voices debating, the troublesome talking.

It is a power, a force that's present, 
a love that's beyond a starry night's crescent. 

The dictated emotions that keep us from hearing, 
many hearts are failing for the worrisome fearing.

But be very still and you can capture, 
and walk towards the calling, your name in the rapture,

There is a most wonderful, Omnipotent Being,
a Love everlasting, belief without seeing.
In the silence.

Within ocean waves crashing,
a continual washing, forever set in motion, in a perpetual fashion. 

They see and they tremble with vague understanding, 
at simply God's doing at His every commanding.

They turn up the volume of the blasphemous drama, 
to the youth of our nation with demoralizing trauma.

But In the silence there is One crying, 
to save a lost world from an eternity's dying.

Salvation free for all, for a blood that's still spilling, 
for the passion of our Christ, a price paid at His willing.

There's a truth of discerning, solid, and stable, 
of a grace that is present, willing and able.

In the bloom of a flower, a body of water that's glistening, 
the cry of God's heart heard by those who are listening.

On top of the mountains, in the sprint of gazelles,
In the roars of the lion, the ring of church bells.

Across the great skyways, there's an artful distinction, 
clouds filled with His tears, for the mankind extinction. 

Listen, in the stillness, the longing connection,
the loving story of an eternal detection,

In the first beat of the heart, the first kick of an infant, 
the last breath of a loved one, a life gone in an instant. 

From the miraculous, the spectacular, amazing with thunder,
to the smallest unnoticeable miracle wonder,

Listen, I beseech you, and you will hear,
a love heard in heart, and not with the ear,
In the silence.

Psycho

Psycho

 So,
The Devil got inside again
Charmed, i want to laugh and SIn
I just want All- That's All of HIM 
Spreads His wings 
I'm Christened in

 And now you LOOK AT ME my friend 
I'm stabbing stabbing all of them
It's just that way "We Win We Win!!!"
I'll be so charmed to Crown with HIm 

Psycho Bates Motel 
Don't Scream!!!??!!?

    Ah Ha
     Ha Ha
       La Tí Da-

For "Mother"
Stabbed and dR0wnEd
"Come iN"
Catatonic
D0wN 
"LISTEN"
Cackle sPit
SweeT Licking lips
Dripping Bleeding Finger Tips
"Now who's laughing? LET ME IN!!!!•v"
Filthy Pleasures turning TrIcKs
Stabbing Stabbing little FiX
Masturbate THIS crucifix 
WatCh me c0unTing 
Count to Three

 Silky Leather
 And
 Asphyxed 
 
So,
- Are y0u laughing
N0w with Me???
If not 
Don't close your eyes 
 YoU'll sEE
Watching stabbing pull my string 

   Ah Ha
    Ha Ha
      La tí Da-

 Oh My G0d!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's liKe a dReam 
Stabbed her in the ShoWeR sceNe 
Choking Choking Master Bates
Cumming Inn
Asphyxiate 

 So!!!
--- Dear Mr. Stabby Friend,
We'll set the trap
We'll lay in wait
Oh!!!
This tickles my FaNcy
And when they come
We'll have a look and see 
Close my eyes 
The count of Three 
Beethoven hears this Symphony 

 So.
Laughing laughing 
 One 
  Two 
   Three
It's just this way I'm losing me 
I'm losing tO my soul, old friend
In Love 
My Loving Stabby Friend

 "NoW Clear That Dust And Listen In!!!"
I've got my madness to defend
All this darkness
Remember WhEn?
Remember WhEn we fell ol' friend?
Holding hands And Stabbing Them

My mind is a definitive twist
I see me who you see I am 

 I am I am
 I am The Man
 I am The Man with the Golden Plan
 A Master Plan so understand

We're all inside my boX again

Are th3se secrets scaring you 
Little trinkets - Scary t00?
Are they Burning Burning YoU?
Let them burn "I DARE Y0U T0"

 So,
Dear Mr. Stabby Friend,
Stab me at my face and grin
Stabbed into my back again
I'm seeing who you see I am 

 So,
My filthy pleasure's GreAtest DreAm
Stabbed her in the Shower Scene -


Soul of a Son, Life of An Addict '

There in a small town in Mississippi, a very poor family of (7) seven are yes struggeling but are yes abound. Jimmy the youngest of them at now 17 tell his father that he wants to be a Preacher The desire to teach is a privilledge that he inherited from his Uncle, and nowat that prunitive age he goes to his uncle (home) town. The soul of a son is one thing, but the life of a addict is another. My Brother, my brother he sit's down one day and listen in on one of his uncle's lectures as this friend of Jimmy is being lestured too.  You don't need to be weak at the knee's in this stage of dealing with certain issue's and as he comes to the end of his lectures he himself (jimmy) is in need of some "tissue". Jimmy is a member of the debate team(at school) one of the student is this friend, who is dealing with crack-cocaine habit that he just began doing for about a month now.  So this-this-ss partic-ular day jimmy takes him to see the preacher (his uncle) after this young friend said to him, "help-me". {I believe you can be of some help}. "Don't be afraid to seek God as your first step".
So after the two of them have elaborated over the matter for and hour, Jimmy feel's a
need of concern, so they leave together.  My Brother-my brother. "Life of an Addict",
will carry you places you never thought you'll be and keep you in situation's and you
will never be free.  Free to enjoy (life) and freedom from the depentacy of drugs
and living on the streets!!....
 These phrases becomes a part of the mindset in one's attempt to go forward with the
"Power of Prayer", and the belife of knowing you're not a "Coward".  "Soul of a Son",
is to surrender your all onto the source of everything(Faith).  And "Life of an Addict",
is knowing that God places people in your life to possitivily restore your faith in your-
self.  So when life throws you a "Nippy", (storms) that is when you're not to give up,
because the enemy wants you to think that you are always running on empty!!.
"For he is everywhere (Jesus) even there in this small town of Mississippi".
Form: Narrative

Evolved

I am coming to see you dear, I have no time to spear, I am coming out of the shadows of doubt to find out what this thing is about, I want to experience a brand new tomorrow and leave the darkness behind me as I journey towards the pinnacle of hope to fulfill my destined journey.

The sun has dried the moisture out of the clouds and summer is on the run, the birds are going east, west, north and south and the wilderness with its forward premonition is lock with time near the ocean of the divine, while autumn waits patiently under the bush for the perfect time to cook.

The guests are pouring into the town and there is preparation all around, the kitchen staffs are running in and out with trays loaded with fresh baked cakes and bread, they arrange them neatly on tables in the halls and hungry people are getting ready for a ball.

It’s is more than a treat for the hungry people roaming the street; there is lots of food around so excises some manners before you go inside, don’t eat more than you can manage and don’t be a glutton you will have more the next day and what is there is just for today.

 I am coming out of this town and shake the entire demon to the ground. I have broken the ropes and chain and flush the portion down the drain.

I have pulled up the whist from around the plants and prepare the land to make a brand-new start, the bad energy is exorcised from the property and the bitterness they throw into the gate is sent running down the lane.

The bad men have left the town and summer is walking around. The heat is rising and the country girls are singing, they are getting ready for a brand new beginning.

I am locked up in a strange place and I am sandwich between the walls and the gate, the brazen sun is approaching the hill and my heart is singing a strange rhythm and I want you to listen in.

My heart is connected to the ground listening to the melody of a familiar sound but time continues to move around to defeat the origin of that dreadful sound.

I have evolved.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Give Me Back My Name

tell them i’m gone
tell them i’m gone to change my name
give them any name
i’ll not give them another name

tell them i’ll not take my father’s name
no more father than i’m my own
i do not create
i’m not responsible
i have no ownership over my makings

so i’ll take this name i’ve got
for the moment
tell them
and i’ll go short-changed to be cast again

yes
tell them i’ll go and change my name
not have my name changed
and come out again unchanged

tell them again i’ll not take my father’s name
yes
tell them that
tell them i’ve gone to change my name
my very own name
and yet keep the name i’ve gone to change

yes
tell them that

tell them when i’m there
i’ll see why josephus broke the essenic law
why marx the mighty essene changed his name
and note
why the ribonucleic-acid embargo in between
why the dna father-son short supply

i am a cell lodged in the molecular-memory-millennia
i’m the agent of growth and decay
i see the cells strung out in an embryonic fantasy riddle
while intercourse was still permissible

i proclaim
i propound
in my genes the spermatic stimulation
the evolutionary process
the woman the link-breaker
keeps it all going longer and longer
until i stand and transmit
until we reach out into the micro-wave length
listen in on ourselves
in the multi-macro-cosmic network :
the tv stations
the electronic transmitters
the nether-world subliminal messages
all shall interlock
and we remain tuned in
sitting bolt-tight-up
in our nudging squeezing cells
no more afearing nor doing
no more no less that is
than sucking a python diet

we’ll do without rousing sex-play
courtship nor foreplay
or even sans monetary excuse
we’ll do it for ourcells
in ourcells
by ourcells

then i’ll not have to go away
nor will you have to tell them

‘he thinks he’s gone to change his name
his only name
and quite probably not take his father’s name’

rendes-moi mon nom unique


Copyright ©:  T. Wignesan, 1965 - London from the collection : tell them i’m gone. Paris : 1983. (rev. 2012)
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member THANKS FRANK

As I was researching Frank Sinatra for a wedding I’m performing
a lady walked into the bookstore after I opened the other day.
She sat down in our comfy chair…and had quite a lot to say

What made this situation difficult…it was hard for me to see
when she was talking to herself…and when she was talking to me.

I had never seen this lady before…she came from out of the blue
and I could not tell how many different people she was talking to.

I admit at first to feeling a little anxious…filled with a little frustration….
I wasn’t sure if I should listen in…or they were private conversations.

But since she was pretty close to me…I listened for a while
and when she looked in my direction…I looked back at her and smiled.

She’d return my smile…then quickly go back to what she was doing before
talking to different someones…who were not in the store.

I did not understand everything she said as her words kept flying by
I’m pretty sure she was upset…but I could not make out why.

She paused just long enough when a particular thought was through…
to look up at me and ask…what am I to do?

When I realized she was asking me…I wasn’t sure what to say…
I wasn’t sure I could say anything to help her through her day…

But with Frank Sinatra’s lyrics staring me in the face…
I took a deep breath…smiled at her and then..
I said…you should pick yourself up, dust yourself off…and start all over again.

All of her ramblings stopped…she smiled back at me instead….
then asked all the voices she was hearing…if they heard what this old man said.

And then she started laughing…and with her voices tagging along
she exited the store repeating the words to that old Frank Sinatra song.

I learned a valuable lesson….in a moments just like this
when it’s confrontation I want to avert….
A smile helps to ease the situation…and a little Frank Sinatra does’t hurt.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member In Silence

In Silence

Sighing, gales vibrate, release the dance
Between avid oak in crimson hues -
Delicate golds, amber and carroty red
Maples delicate muse, autumn stillness, hush
Erasing the summer, quieting…
	The sunlight whispers raining down
		In silence, pretty secrets
			Perfect reminiscences

Whispering, gentle breeze, reflecting the shadows
Brought to life, silhouettes breathless, echoing
Peace inspired by the embrace of vibrant colors
Inspirations so alive, thriving in pulsating lights
Saying a quick goodbye to the past
	Where still, cool waters smile liquid laughter
		Stirring the promises entwined
			Knit together like prayers
				Prayed by hearts

Who know that this season, harvest time, autumn
Brings wisdom, insights into the wonders murmured
Like endless pleas for the kindness, the creativity
His hand brings to the world He crafted from naught
Spoken into existence by His voice, His utterance
	Expressions of beautiful, awakened
		To the miracle of creation, the design
			Brought to life by His light
				The wonder of His thought

Because I know Him, my Savior, my Maker
Autumn feels like the imagination adorned
With blushing tones of compassion, charity
Sensitive words lasting in pages, scriptures
Portraying the riches of His splendor – His mystery
	The answer to every prayer lies there
		Amid the verses, the poetry and promise
			Like falling leaves, in silence
				His love abides, grace inspired…

By the One I know as real love, real hope, real life
Savior of the world – redeemer of the heart and soul
Deliverer of the spirit who looks to Him and believes
In a love that is alive and can only be received
By those who know Him intimately, trusting
	His gift of grace – His book’s answers
		His forever in heaven
			His eternity, the blessing
				Freedom, forgiveness…

A reason to listen – in silence,
	To His guidance!

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