Long Sophisticated Poems
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Thought for Today: Casting Down Imaginations
By Dana Redricks
Gods People
January 2, 2020
" We are destroying sophisticated arguments and every exalted and proud thing that sets itself up against the [true] knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought and purpose captive to the obedience of Christ, being ready to punish every act of disobedience, when your own obedience [as a church] is complete." 2 Corinthians 10:5 (AMP)
Our minds are the battlefield Satan uses. Everything begins as a thought life. Our enemy uses our thought life against us. If we change the way we think we change the way we live. Everything is determined by our thought life. If we want to stop thinking negative we have to replace those negative thoughts with positive ones, which is the Word of God. The Word of God is for defense and empowering with the purposes of God. The act of defense is the act of standing our ground against attacks, and schemes Satan and his demonic host. The Word of God is our defense against the attacks of the kingdom of darkness of Satan. that's why it is important to cast down every imagination that exalts itself against God, and put on the full Armor of God,"Therefore, put on the complete armor of God, so that you will be able to [successfully] resist and stand your ground in the evil day [of danger], and having done everything [that the crisis demands], to stand firm [in your place, fully prepared, immovable, victorious]." (Ephesians 6:11l. We should put on the Full Armor of God, so we will be able to stand in the evil day. the Word of God equips us and gives us everything we need to live a successful life in Christ, and also come against the attacks and schemes Satan's demonic forces.
"The doctrines of the gospel and discipline of the church are the weapons of this warfare; and these are not carnal: outward force, therefore, is not the method of the gospel, but strong persuasions, by the power of truth and meekness of wisdom. A good argument this is against persecution for conscience’ sake: conscience is accountable to God only; and people must be persuaded to God and their duty, not driven by force of arms. And so the weapons of our warfare are mighty, or very powerful; the evidence of truth is convincing and cogent." Matthew Henry Commentary
Blue is a cool color;
sophisticated like a vintage of fine wine.
It is tranquility;
a shiny black diamond in the light-play;
a raven in the sun.
A long sleep for the winter;
a snow white ground reflecting the shadows
of it’s surroundings.
Blue is the taste of berries in my cereal;
my favorite cereal bowl and cup.
a new candy, sweet and crunchy.
Blue is the ocean water and whales and
the sky at the beach on a day of my
summer vacation.
New sandals that protect
my feet from the burning sands.
Blue is a spinning globe in space;
a place called home;
a large womb I birthed from.
Blue is my new jacket,
new curtains for my bedroom;
the carpet that my pets love to nap on.
Blue is music;
a crying guitar singing the blues.
Blue is light and sound and laughter and tears.
It is cool spaces, a canvas sky;
Tranquil and serene.
A color in a rainbow;
Strawflowers in the garden;
my favorite fountain pen.
Blue is peace on a tired evening,
after a rage-red day at the office.
And unlike most people,
when I’m in a blue mood,
it’s a good thing!
A long those dark, dank corridors underneath the earth, an anomaly is growing.
N ebulous in it's beginnings, an as yet unknown species prepares to arise
E longated in it's skeletal structure, slight and slender, they slither about
W ily in nature, these unique elusive creatures are prone to evade the light.
S linking about at night with iridescent, bold bright eyes, they warily
P eek and peer at people, pacing about in dark, dreary alleyways
E xamining interactions, obsessed in their observations, in order to
C onnect and draw upon human energy, like sophisticated sponges.
I ntent on leeching the life force out of human beings, these humanoids wish to
E merge and spike world leaders' drinks with explosive laxatives, thus
S triking and stalling them on their "thrones", subsequently taking over our world!
Written on 2/23/2016
Bob has been the greatest friend I will ever know.
Practically wherever he travels, I also go.
He restrains me with a leash, but I know it is human law.
To this person I owe gratitude. I outstretch my paw.
I will remember the day he liberated me from the shelter.
Each day of existence there was like helter-skelter.
I had it all planned. My objective was quite clear.
This was my biggest opportunity for leaving here.
Those other dogs appeared quite stupid and dense.
You would think none of the others had the least amount of sense.
By barking and growling at Bob, they only hurt their chance.
I looked at him and wagged my tail when he gave me his first glance.
My plan worked quite well with great success.
I have spent the last seven years with him in happiness.
In his sophisticated language, I cannot communicate.
I wish I could tell him the foods I like, and those I hate.
Apparently, many other people like Bob, and I can see why.
He has been a true blue friend that no man or dog can deny.
Right here in his home, I will spend my remaining days.
He has been like a lucky bet worthy of parlays.
away with capitalistic free market enterprise
where the concomitant features of greed, power and wealth
fuse to form a pact of unrestrained mass-consumerism
while simultaneously obliterating any shred of a humanistic ethic.
the hollow emptiness of a hedonistic philosophy
representative of the western civilization
rings with the sound of falseness
from the belfry of commodification.
debunk the myth of the supremacy of man
where the less sophisticated species
remain in a role of subservience
while religion upholds this point of view.
the travesty of contemporary existence
epitomized by the crass characteristics
endemic in the advertisements
prior to the advent of a holiday or sale.
opinions about significant political issues
and the general emotions toward the processes of life
trivialized into a farcical sport
by the producers of commercial goods.
renounce the superficiality of the make-believe world
and also the stamp of mass production
that transforms a creative human being into an obsolete soul!
Form:
Illustrious? Too sophisticated.
Advanced? Sounds too modern.
Awkward? Not in the mood yet.
Animalistic? A nice ring, bereft of a special ring.
Will consider it for later though. Jotting it down now.
I could cut up some onions. I got up early to cook a roast right?
I get up from the chair, and my muse bops me on the head,
A light smack. I know, I tell her. I will be back in two.
It is actually ten minutes later. I had to cut up the onions and the roast.
Antiquated? Too prissy.
Profound? Dharm it! You already use profound in every other poem.
Pollutive? Is that even a WORD?
I will set the crockpot on high.
Trixie gets out her machete and leers at me, really mad now.
If you use that, I will not help you at all, I warn her,
So she files it back in her knapsack, and starts stomping up and down the paper.
She is storming angry when I return, I know because the paper is torn into
Teeny, tiny bits, I pull it back together, trying to read it again, as I recopy it.
Plain? Too plain.
Demonstrative? Circle that one. I like that one.
Delectable, delightful, deliriously diabolically, do-able.
The D words are here, and they are dancing and prancing.
Discerning. Where did that come from? Trixie helps me scratch it out.
Hey! Were you going to put the meat into the crockpot?
INSTANT brain stop.
We come to a screeching halt.
Dhramn!
I take Trixie to the kitchen where she hammers on Joe’s head with her axe.
Unfortunately, he does not feel it.
No one else here can put roast into a crockpot?
I Asked Myself A Rhetorical Question...
Asper daily expounding fostering
inchoate manifesting mod
er writ writing quality,
solitary scrimmage tackling
undertaking, yielding whir
ring, sputtering, kickstarting, and
buzz-feeding at competitive, communal
crowed did metaphorical trough,
where household named author's
top New York Times best seller
tier, overshadowing under
rated genre bending, breakout aspiring,
story board qualifying,
opportunistic newbie man
use script artful dodgers
mere dust collecting drafts,
anticipating to stir infectious interest
incumbent - at mercy,
tripwire activating quint
essential key, which anchors print
ting projected uncertain
popularity first edition,
awakening, guiding, nosing
asymptote analogy steering
reader toward nascent
scribe, where paper
back writer wannabe,
toils away incorporating subtle
(hook, line and sinker) techniques,
(albeit apropos literary
ploys, a true test tum ment,
viz sophisticated gambits
to massage late tint
prestidigitation abra ca dab rah,
sine non qua cogent
see kant, and tangent triggers
modest mien fortified, exemplified,
and downplayed akin
to unassuming Clark Kent
in his cape ably nonchalant
transformation into superman,
and/or more pointedly,
some original heft leant
to set apart striking
poignant implement
exhibited by aspiring
writer daily revising,
albeit gal or gent
his/her uniquely obscure
trademark, but
eventually keen agent
assays non-boastful writing style
im prim mature print,
sans unassuming swiftly tailored
harried style seduces seek
curing sincere overnight reverent,
well deserved kudos
comically marveling
at thee most im portent
salient strengths, per
hops hue moored opulent
quality instigates
affinity toward nascent,
bar riddle be, bill leading,
bud ding scrivener,
not necessary alluding
to a hypothetical outlier
thus, any similarity between the
above statement and
a living person perchance named
Matthew Scott Harris
purely coincidental.
Thinking it sophisticated, he declared himself a sophist.
Dwelling deep in Plato’s cave, he became learned in the shapes of shadows.
Enamored by their dim dancing, he concluded there can be no truth.
One day he realized that for this assertion to be true, it must be false,
and if it is false, it cannot be true.
Stepping out into ambrosial, golden dawn,
Departing at the new glistening inception,
he carried the heart of a befuddled terrified nomad.
A drifter, always hungry for affinity.
Rootless, always foraging for simpatico.
He became the vagrant ferreting the ambient gleaming
reaches, never certain of what he found, but convinced
that his search was urgently necessary.
In luminous amber ambience, he ambled the ambulatory.
Though his methods seemed antiquated and antique, he knew he could
never return to the cave shadows of antiquity.
No, they would never deceive him again.
But then as explorer, he confronted new dilemmas,
choosing between the newspeak of alternate realms.
His path lit by ubiquitous glittering rocks; he felt the glow penetrate in ways
he never before conceived, for he had always been soaked in stygian tenebrosity.
Common minds traverse comfort zones, seldom seeing beyond their boundaries.
His new freedom granted an empathic eye, remembering his hardest anxious choices.
Never before did he recognize how this residue, he collectively shared.
Upon this subliminal shoreline between mortality and the sublime, he could reify rapturous grails. He knew then, this divination was made possible only by his relatedness of being.
Moral codes based on inclusive truths make civil discourse achievable
because universal joints join collective being with unadorned conscience.
Winter Spice Cranberry Sprite
a winter holiday delight.
It comes in November when preparing Thanksgiving abounds
On the grocery soda shelf holiday Sprite is found
Really don't taste cranberries that spice flavor unique
But it has become one of my favorite holiday drinks
Smells like Christmas evening after all enjoy and done
Tip offed with a holiday Sprite and reflecting festive fun
Sometimes you don't want liquor nor drinks warm or hot
That's when holiday Sprite refreshing taste hits the spot
It's fun when the bubbles tickle your nose amused
It's sophisticated taste both kids and adults choose
So if holidays are hectic and feel a little overwhelming
Take a break with a holiday Sprite and revive that holiday feeling.
I got a polo neck jumper.
She said they were in.
Pep wears one.
He hasn’t manboobs.
Ribbed, dark grey.
Tighter than it should of been.
With a vintage leather, black jacket.
Sophisticated,continental,
so I bought a pain au chocolate.
From Greggs.
I think he thought I was francais as
I ordered and added si vous plait.
Then blew it by being unable to resist a sausage roll.
Which later I found out to be rouleau de saucisse, not un sausage roll, si vous plait.
“What the bollocks do you look like?”
“Where’s the Milk tray?”
were the first comments at the pub.
But their jealousy was obvious and measurable, being directly proportional to the amount of beer spat out as I walked in.
I ordered a Pernod chaser with my pint of pale ale, small steps.