Long Plot thickens Poems
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Facts beyond Illusion
The absence of who you are falls short of whom you could truly become.
The decline that leaves you slain without hope. Sliding down a slippery slope after slippery slope. Looking back at the years with no end in sight.
Where have all those years gone? The righteous ones, the heroines and heroes of truth. Now there seems to be this new norm running loose. Wrong is the new right and vice versa are those thoughts that wage war on our minds. Those thoughts that seem so hard to find. Our eyes do not deceive or betray us, but there is still no justice. The makeup that made you has started to crumble and fade, now you wonder if you have been laid to rest without a shred of dignity.
Falling to your feet, subdued by the sheer weight that bestows the question of, what it all means. There is no judge nor jury to preside over things that are true. It appears that the laws that are written have a certain vibe of bias when looking through the hourglass, but blinded by the sand in front. By the time the sands clears, one would think, now you can see the truth, but it disappears in plain sight. Ups and downs are these scales foreshadowing the twist and turns of this rollercoaster ride, where we all died inside. Puzzles are broken into multiple pieces, releasing the pain that is increasingly felt inward. Causing a downward spiral of drunkenness. Spinning in a circular motion of consternation. Chastised by man based on the premise of misinformation hesitation has caused an even bigger loss of life. Cutting like a knife, losing themselves in confusion, with no repercussion for the fallen. Just a percussion of lies from your mouth to our ears, tears with no guilt. Just laughter when it comes crumbling down. Frowns of disbelief sicken you from inside as the plot thickens, labeled you the black sheep. Displaying enough bravery to stand alone and atone for the ones that shall remain nameless. The cost was
too high as so many loves ones have died. Infinite lies that should lie in the belly of the beast. Just to hold on to that one moment of release to fight for freedom and peace.
Darius Howard
April 19th 2020
Evergreen Community
Here is a tale to astound and to stretch any viewer’s fantasy and imagination…
Proudly presented by the creative people behind The Twilight Zone productions..
A loving family of a couple and their 2 daughters arrived at a guarded community…
Having sold off everything on a gamble to begin life anew in this new community…
They are out of options on how to bring up their ever rebellious elder teenaged daughter…
Who is heavily tattoed with hair hideously coloured, bubble gum chewing and bad mannered..
This new community is touted to bring about a positive turn to any family in suffering..
There are even beefy security guards to quell any dissenting teenagers from rebelling..
The leader of the commune guides and controls the flock of registered families..
Whenever there are disruptive teenagers, the whole commune meet in harmony…
They then cast their lots in colored beads, black or white, their numbers will decide for free…
Treatment for any troubled and rebellious kid, the family will be assigned a healthy tree…
The leader extols the use and love to be derived from any unmanageable teenaged mutiny…
Once treated, the love and benefits will be immense for the continual health of the commune…
So the plot thickens as our colorful teenaged girl was changed in appearance to conform..
But her rebellious and suspicious character was not a little diminished nor was she reformed…
She realised to her deepening horror the nameless dangers that are in store for kids like her..
Her unflinching love for her younger sister was ever uppermost in her mind, big sister like her..
Witness her confusion, her growing horror as she realises the depths of a sisterly betrayal…
Hear her desperate pleas and screams for help, when her family as one, turned away in denial..
Shades of the Stepford Wives, what a twist to such an incredible tale of imagination…
Little wonder in the Twilight Zone, a viewer will be lost in a world of wonder and astonishment..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBaOAUG1zr8&list=PLbxdxEWxTqX81L3NnAU3nEwvPhkT7FuRm&index=23
Pages turn thin, thin as the plot thickens
Thinning knowledge as ignorance quickens
Spines crack from hunger, hunger for minds
Cracking under pressure of different kinds
Books starve for attention, attention spans wane
Starving for readers in this digital rain
Covers collect dust, the dust of neglect
Collecting cobwebs, respect they collect
Words go stale, stale on forgotten shelves
Staling wisdom as society delves
Into shallow feeds, feeding on quick bites
Feeding frenzy of memes and soundbites
Chapters close, close before they open
Closing doors to worlds unspoken
Stories wither, wither on the vine
Withering away, leaving no sign
Libraries fast, fast from funding feast
Fasting resources as budgets decrease
Volumes shrink, shrink from public view
Shrinking access to both old and new
Bindings loosen, loosen their hold
Loosening grip on tales untold
Leaves fall, fall from tomes of yore
Falling silent, voices we ignore
Ink fades, fades like memories lost
Fading faster at literacy's cost
Margins narrow, narrow like our scope
Narrowing pathways of reason and hope
Bookmarks slip, slip from neglected pages
Slipping away, the wisdom of ages
Fonts grow small, small in our esteem
Smaller still as we lose the dream
Endings hunger, hunger for new readers
Hungering for minds to be thought leaders
Bibliophiles crave, crave the written word
Craving stories waiting to be heard
So let's feed these books, feed them our time
Feeding our souls with rhythm and rhyme
For books may go hungry, hungry for touch
But starved of books, we lose so much
Digest these words, words ripe with meaning
Digesting slowly, our minds reconvening
With pages that yearn, yearn to impart
Yearning to nourish both mind and heart
Let's feast on books, feast like they're our last
Feasting on futures, presents, and pasts
For in this banquet of bound delights
We satiate our appetite for heights
So don't let books starve, starve in the dark
Starving for chances to leave their mark
Feed your mind, mind the feeding call
Minding that books nourish us all
The Plot thickens
As the wicked, evil one;
Lucifer;
Mankind says it was an apple;
That lead Adam astray;
That lost Eve that day;
but it's ticking. . .
The sounds of the bombs that linger on
Imposing, expelling, I found
doesn't matter what king of fruit it is;
Wasn't an apple
It wasn't bout' the fruit at all;
It was bout' man fall;
His disobedient, led him to faint;
HOW YOU GONNA LOOK GOD IN HID FSCE SND TELL HIM IT"S HIS FAULT
Because of the WO-Man He brought. . .
I believe that this was a blessing first;
Until Lucifer Saw this and cursed...
As a symbol to the lamb;
God made man first but those please understand;
The devil tricked Eve first
The Eve showed man;
and that is how Adam cause the first sin;
It was more than a soldier was;
more than a lamb
more than admiration
more than a plan
The tree of good and evil
No on knew what that means;
IT WAS MORE THAN, MORE THAN AN APPLE TREE
Trust the Father this wasn't ever meant to be;
We're more important that the birds and the leaves in the trees;
Even all the masses of the great seas;
God knew, God knows God choose....
IT WAS MORE THAN, MORE THAN AN APPLE TREE;
It's not about what kind of fruit it is;
It was totally all about man being obedient;
But sad to say, he fell that day
It was more than, more than an apple tree;
Even tho the tree of good and evil;
MY choices, my decision what's that got to do with fruit?
no one knew what this means;
it was more than apples of an apple tree;
IT WAS MORE THAN, MORE THAN AN APPLE TREE;
written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2007(c)
From Anthology "More Than An Apple Tree"
abstract art
doctor are you seeing spots
the family story of an artist
the plot thickens
the red spots of one page
subtlety of the blue lines
oh skeleton man
such a cold soul
i'll never know
what the window had to say
the mirror of my soul tells me instead
that i might not recognise myself
but i am priceless
the kitchen witch cursed
in the stains of the mirror
the blue ceas of the red waters
and as we spiral out of the zodiac language unsolvable riddle
what was left on every church window
an art show of throw me a bone
as i run away
throw you off my tail
chase the goose egg
chase the wrong spade
forget my face
its all over
sweet surrender giving in
where ever i go the lemonaid is soo sour
selling myself piece by piece
cashing in
slow rollercoasster
selling myself impolitley
even though you dont like me
paintings for my family
a theme for friends
and among thee works of art i give away
what does the curse of the colors give away
\black paint wasaway
stained hearts and im already insane
seeing spots again
inside this box a game to play
new rules and the angels sway with the cold souls forgotten
never did what you wanted
intertwining foundation
lost among the new paperchase
the story gets deeper
outsider looking in
outsider looking in
the colors mean something
green eyeshadow emergenxcy exit
red rum at the table of perception
when will you get it
throw you a bone so the dogs burry me another way
soo comfortable in this rusty cage
my suicidal headless blunder
teaching you something
victom again
but soapy hands
It’s an old story.
We were classmates, you and I,
And later became colleagues,
Working under the same roof.
We had more or less the same specialization.
Married in the same year.
Our children went to the same school.
So far so good!
Now the plot thickens, so to speak!
Once, if you remember,
The boss comes to you for help,
Specifically for helping his sibling
By doing her assignments,
Given to her by a (prestigious) university
Where you and I studied
And where I am a Tutor now—
A concurrent position held by me.
If I were you, I would say:
“Sorry, it’s unethical.”
Or, would tactfully excuse myself—
Maybe by telling a white lie.
Instead, you tell him a blatant lie:
“I’m not hot on the subject, I’m afraid.”
And you go further
And out of the way to add:
“But so and so is. He can help you, I’m sure.”
The boss comes to me straight,
And beating about the bush, tells me:
“Now that so and so is not hot on the subject…blah blah.
Now it is a Catch-22,
Which you have contrived:
If I say yes, I would be exposed
And if I say no, I would be in trouble—with the boss;
There would be no more bonhomie
Between the boss and the boy.
How clever you are!
Furious, I choose to say no—bluntly
And let me face the music.
But now I know that
You are a round character after all,
And an Iago at that.
I appreciate your motiveless malignity.
I shrug my shoulders and mutter:
“Let it be!”
Composed and posted on August 3, 2017
They were all wrong
the priest who cut my phone
the two cops who broke my nose
the psychiatrist selling me down stream
I only had two lovers, neither of them do
but yet I can't prove where i got my hiv
the pharmacists would try to get me my meds
the drug dealers who overtook my house
all the way to the caretaker
who says i should have had better friends
to take my money and leave me homeless
rent out my apartment to another sucker
my identity in songs a suicidal cult
the plot thickens when i cant even get into my own email
I still dont know how i survived
and i will probably be dead in a week
never saw this coming to me
no one ever said life was a dream
but you live in sin of selling it to me as one
the doctors who woke me up
and kicked me out of emergency
after being revived from sleeping pill overdose on my birthday
fell asleep on the bus
all the way to crying out for help on the internet
definately not the way to go
either im in the middle of a conspiracy
or im crazy
no, i dont care, the antichrist is here
picking on the mentally ill
jesus the devil's disguise
no matter what we do we're wrong
don't understand how we think we are at the third world war
the first one never ended
it just went on forever
and now the ball is in your hands
be like them and do nothing
and ask yourself
did you get off on killing me like this
or was it better to get involved
and make my situation worse?
Torrid sunshine blisters reign on pavement,
that colour coded coffee stain slipway,
bearer of insole-laden footwear,
open source channel for glib hot air calculus from starchy social climber, stock market drivel flies off tongue,
strolling human morph blasé with pin pad digit as foundation.
Monumental science, deep seat hi tech driver,
gigabyte trencherman data daze diet.
Brain spur gourmet chew astride.
Former high school swot an Eiffel Tower skyline ace thrust upon a thrill weaver gold rush,
never found but one can always dream.
YouTube zeitgeist earthling
has this inner sense of being from another planet,
this quaint fast lane time zone voyageur.
Like house trained pets they watch their owner grudgingly abandon sham control.
Wafer thin leash a scrimshaw ornament.
The plot thickens but somehow comes undone,
bit part player yearns holistically for untangled bits with interlocking act,
in depth scene dialogue now bill topper if only it would last.
They long for blue flag coast escape,
homely hide out guest house fringe found loitering perniciously or otherwise.
Birdhouse green leaf copycat
assembly for well intentioned like minds that rarely think alike unless it suits.
Caught between ephemeral impasse and amber moon orb dalliance, their noble quest waylay but an out of date signage in urgent need of reinvention.
Denouement
The plot thickens broadens in plastered confused juxtapositions
over time there and then weaves tapestries lost unfound caught
Viscous tears dried out shed rivers searching oases oceans of love
squeeze suffering hatred solid misconceptions scripted resolve
Crocheted dreams unsnarled in disguise colour rainbows stain-bows
stain blows and arrows offer inkblots from coiled council reconcile
Waters cascades cataclysmic beginnings alleviate alluvion’s weight
skirmish tease entice droplets of truths splashing change alteration
Naïve native losses childish unadulterated tangential torrents unfold
allude inundate delude adulthoods’ illusions commence from afresh
Under the bridges of ricocheted echoes trickle drops from Styx to
Ganges feed and contend with the seagulls and vultures of life
The story line concocts and conceives tell retells and remembers
the past as it blends narrates a misty final initiation’s webbed spray
Resolute resolution wets the gills washes clouds spins them around
until springs guzzle project thoughtful narration to entangle once more
Denouement Renewal De-new-ment confer contain depositions repositioned
as some tangling wisdom posits one swims in the same ocean never again
09th August 2016
Originally entered for contest 'Denouement' judged 24th August 2016
Amidst all the maylay we emerged
like growing seeds immune
to the harvest
Time spent in darkness bought
us things we needed
during the purge
Missing the past is absurd for
it's just a memory of
retained but forgotten
words
A grain of sand in an hourglass
clearly shows us the material
isn't meant to last
What we do take with us
are lessons of the past
that mirror
reflecting glass
A reflection only seen when you
internalize the lucid dream
that is your life
I ponder while saying to myself
this can't be right
because that means
all we're left with are
the results of our acts
Solid facts in & of a world
not really solidified
but made so by the strength
of our minds
My blind rhymes are in fact
all seeing scries
meant to enlighten eyes
made dark from dreaming
You wake up steaming once you
realize the pot is calling
the kettle black in an attempt
to keep you from rising
This is a form of tithing for I'm
giving back what I've earned
in a world where
I've worked religiously
I'm suspiciously close to a gross
level of charity but
it bothers me not
How else would you build
strong foundations if
there's an absence
of rocks?
The plot thickens on lots
made sturdy by persistence
& vision
Don't knock if you aren't ready
for insistent answers to questions
regarding current
conditions