Long Pseudo Poems
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False Spiritualities
Our age is full of spiritual criminals
“I teach you!” I will show you the way!”
Yes, they will help. Of course. For money
People want to find the way. The way out
Why? People are fearing. Hmm. Future
Yes. But maybe too late, the gate is closed
Then came the help! The spiritual teachers!
“I teach you practices, knowing, meditations!”
They will teach you. Believe them. Lost money
One session is seventy to a hundred pounds
“We need to help you! This is our job! You!”
They are selfless angels! They are the saints!
Then the blind person’s wallet and credit cards open
“You have problems, we fix everything in your life!”
Naive people are victims of pseudo-spiritualist hyenas
There are traditions for help
Old churches, ancient religions
Do not follow the false teachers
Follow the ancient texts, prophets
Crystal clean sciences, theologies
Let me tell you a story …
Many pilgrims had passed this way before him
but had rarely stopped before trudging up the muddy path to the top of the hill
and then disappearing out of sight forever.
But he lingered at this shady spot at the bottom of the dip in the track.
The old stone tablet in the wall was overgrown with moss and ivy.
Rain droplets hung at the tip of every ivy leaf.
Catching the daylight, they twinkled like some distant constellation.
He pulled back the ivy, scraped off the moss to reveal the ancient writing.
By chance or maybe by some hidden force,
this place still belonged to the pilgrim’s way.
But the pseudo-pilgrims had no time to waste as celebrity beckoned.
Eyes fixed on the hill’s summit
they were oblivious of both this place and its significance.
The inscription read
If you look too hard you will not see
If you talk too much you will not hear
If you think too much you will not learn
If you walk too fast you will not arrive
If you are true to yourself you will be content
You will unlock the secret door
He reflected on what he had read but not too deeply and then smiled.
He had another 150 miles to walk which he could do in six long, arduous days
but now it would take him ten days of contemplation.
The climb up the hill was different from what had gone before.
It was exhilarating for the wonders of nature were all around to experience and enjoy.
Every step was stimulating.
The inscription filled his mind.
Slowly but surely the door opened.
The days passed and he realised the pilgrimage was of the mind not of the body.
Walking gave him space and time.
Ten days later he was uplifted and at peace
having stepped through the door of enlightenment
once secret and now so obvious.
He smiled at the pseudo-pilgrims there with him at the end.
He felt sadness for theirs was a superficial achievement
judged against each other with a materialistic prize.
They had been on a walk but not a pilgrimage.
He gave them one last glance,
turned and strolled into life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
25 April 2022
First Place Contest Name: Form N - Narrative - New Poems
Sponsor: Constance La France
Chosen Theme: #1 Journey
In the depths of the cosmos, a river flows,
a conduit, and vessel of prose, posing as
condensation of Ethos.
Moonbeams dance upon your ethereal ride.
A portal to mystical realms, of open-tide, alche-mist penetrate propellant in seam,
I see your cream of pride.
An incubus of mindful thoughts takes flight,
third eye wind,
let's thought linger to frequency, in pseudo celestial chambers you jump in.
Transcendental trans-human-deitism
quiver manifest plus arrow translate table digest.
Within your river of alchemy and dreams,
imbibed sleep, in glitter pomp
and deceitfullnesting-deposit ory,
whispering secrets in caustic,
cosmic seep.
Calls to mind, attache mirror reflecting, redirect of e theory_els
Quantum Leaps.
Evol of feelings, paint of elixir Alien Elemental,
stirring in chamber, chalice solvent silvery poison ale.
Your fluid tongue drips from beneath
damnation's skies.
For illuminating half truths
Into each glistening lie.
Your telepath
In Touch of Fairy Magic,
a malicious quickening dye.
O liquid stardust muse of musings,
Incubus's seed
of mindfulness,
filled with blasphemous possibilities,
is what you pretend not to be.
But a revealer of secrets, reveler in revelations
and aid to humanity.
O condense of moonbeam,
portal pool of dream scape residue.
Inn of collaboration of Morpheus and Hermes and Hephaestus's accomplice accomplished
's ethereal machine dew, of ai.tear.
Metal voiced whispers aloft carry your gear,
your secret keeps of lingering entrail
of residues areared.
Portal to realms, connecting conduits, material face uncovered of Hades- Siren's veil of silvery blue,
mini Wilky Way Tycoon, moonlighting
as a Science Toon.
Remember, you were de commissioned, rebuked at the second Council of Chyren's Dunes.
way before aye knew
the name Fletcherism applied
tummy uncommonly (recherché) atypical dyed
in the wool feeding and/or slaking thirst guide
did precepts sans hungry
deaf eating beast impossible to hide
(the ferocious growling harassing imp -
armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce
viz casus belli sans reeling off
a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad
me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator,
who re: lied
on self control unbeknownst to this pumpkin eater
unwittingly followed
the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made
modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed
mandibular metered (when famished),
eyes kept closed while tongue gently played
adhered to practice of eating small amounts,
which discipline stayed
engorging self, and as a result
(consuming sustenance
only when hungry avoiding
(wolfing like an instantaneous blitz krieg flash)
found me aware visa vis master car ding
marginal increase in pounds meaning
thy body electric weighed
approximately for long stretches
when a habitue at one or another dining digs
stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs
adequately satiating with with oomf
when contra dance caller Scott Higgs
announced "hands four," which signal
helped get my mojo back
and reel lee deuce home jigs,
which kickstarted, syncopated,
oft times espying Bobbie Riggs
who years gone back whiz Vic Tory huss
e'en when donning apparel of Whigs
like colluding trump petting molecules
that via tiff Fanny doth zags and zigs.
You can look back now
being much older
for they had pulled your number
in the lottery
you had won the grand prize
an all expense paid trip
to neverland
courtesy of Uncle Sam
hand me down helmet on head
slightly used peace in hand
in turn....
you marched
others had before you
falling prey to an unforeseen enemy
some....a surface wound....
the others are all dead
shall we hold a funeral
where no one will come
and everyone will cry ?
some surrendered to hallucinations grasp
pseudo-reality for sanity's sake
the sane could have only dreamed reality
but you had won, you had found the answer
you crossed over....the brook beneath you
babbling under the pretense of happiness
crimson from end to end
to no-end
Twas accursed destiny
since birth alack
nascent emasculation abominable barrack
emergent deus ex machina,
viz zit ting older sibling counterattack
thirteen plus chronological gap
eldest sister struck like diamondback
surrogate "mother" role
assumed tubby exact
protectorate pseudo fullback
against cruel beastie boys
bullying barbs
comeuppance giveback
pummeling spongiform
gray matter (yours truly)
fisticuffs she didst highjack
proxy mothering
kept corporeal essence intact
jilting nefarious nemesis aligned
(maligning) and stalking,
this fee-fi-fo-fum
ordinary bean sized Jack
are runt (arrant) cowardly
(non lion) nerdy lad owning a knack
courage lack this glum
older married chap doth adumbrate
satisfactory accomplishments lack
king, where crazy quilt aimless wandering
described purposeless multitrack
thus, sympathetic
to hue men/women nonblack
or decimated aborigines
once populating Australian outback
existential nihilism would,
undergirding hypothetical
unwritten paperback
with little need to prevaricate,
nor appear as quack
pot, one measly *****sapiens,
who accrued millennial palimpsest zeitgeist
where, punctured
disequilibreated psyche dust rack
asper protean (in utero)
multitudinous setback
soundlessly resonating
with concussive thwack
as this rickety ship of state
(a haunted junk ket)
unwanted emotional ballast to unpack
asseveration, asper assiduously
preferably welcoming
dry suction no vac
jar this pawn (knight wannabe
in his bishop rick) torrid
me psychological wrack
king within (castle keep)
complex edifice shackled
in dungeon with repast constituting.
Thee nonpareil Amelie Beth Harris-McGeehan
blessed honest to dog goodness her person doth bring
never could her brother wish upon NON GMO
(archaeopteryx, buffalo, chicken...) wing,
and genuine prayer anybody more a maze zing.
Many countless years before
our dear mother passed away four
plus eleven earth orbitz ago,
she voluntarily repeated more
times than I can remember "your
older sister possesses altruistic qualities."
The above words enclosed by this bloke
with double quotation marks, okey-doke
not necessarily the way mama spoke,
but yours truly took poetic liberty
without any intention generating impulse to choke
the harmless, nameless, and stateless writer
and literally went bonkers
while going for Baroque
for recognized virtue that recently woke.
Kinship towards angelic, fantastic, pacific anchor
understandable why her spouse did hanker
during their courtship to pledge his troth
to maneuver metaphorical
hook, line, and sinker as though steadying a tanker.
Innocence and naïveté suffused little boy
occupying body of aging long haired
pencil necked geek without gainful employ
and (and as a shy person without benefit
of powdered milk biscuits)
generally trended solitary
verses masing with hoi polloi,
nevertheless ofttimes relentlessly teased
bully me, I loathed treatment on par
with worthlessness linkedin with discarded toy,
thus gratitude prevails toward eldest sibling
(no matter just thirteen plus months older)
pseudo motherhood she did deploy
to ward off aggressive monsters.
I reckon eyes appreciation
matured into present thankful attitude,
now with mooch time to ponder and brood
how earlier in my life behavior childish and crude
methought meself as hotshot dude,
yet these days, I couch sincerity writing
one or another poetic endeavor
knitting words analogous to composing an etude
contemplative, intuitive, and ruminative mental food
for thought hoop ping to convey
honest to goodness gratitude
communicating reasonable rhyming message
(if yee be downcast dearly beloved sister)
delivering uplifting, kickstarting exalting mood.
A laugh is a soul's explosion of insanity.
Knowledge of acknowledgement in vanity.
A crazed affinity with deja vu timing.
Taboo of thought in neon silver lining.
An out of body experience welcomed within.
Micro possession in a miming obsession,
with dilated dial in audible font style
and expression.
A laugh is a pseudo lust in pseudo love.
Headlining, silver tongued language of
squealed wink, grunting blink, snickering choke of drink.
from above.
A syncing of honed thinking in volume linking
the brink on.
Wave of notes confused bang of gong,
in mode-icon.
Surge of mental drowning,
with smile singing mused
connection system of its own downing.
Lately I've been on flats, between heaven and hell
Who but the Almighty buffers me from lack
My stance is firm, I move with care
Not to tear or deplete what's left of me
As parents persevere, praying renewal of psyche
Grown children are puncturing precious time
You'd wonder why wise women still ride so high
On horses that will topple them in wilderness
What simmer souls from stilts that do silent
Damage to free will's humbler spirit?
I have learned it takes time for the clearing of
Cobwebs clouding fair point of views
Who will wed serenity and naked troth of this:
Time and space and grace heals and inspires simplicity with humility.
*
Catholic education taught me all my Ps and Qs
when nuns and priests coached a child's reluctant view,
in a quandary and a quiver
to kneel up straight and perfectly perpendicular,
amidst the gold and platinum rich cathedrals
churches of quicksand-like quag pews medieval,
shaped for the prostrating prayerful penitent
awaiting an offenders penance and its remnants,
in somber quiet of quaint old confessional tombs
while incense burns a bitter scented perfume ,
quintessentially questioning everything qued
perpetuating a quay to conclude
when to sink or swim in perplexing quirky quotes
of pseudo pallid pantomimes of forgiveness and hope,
when tranquil poise in prayer
extolls the loss of childhood innocence repaired.
Using up those Ps and Qs with an added one or two.
Penance Poise Perfume Platinum
Quay Quiver Quandary Quaint
for the sponsor of contest Mind Your Ps and Qs
Michelle Faulkner
2/19/21