Long Strategist Poems
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Am I a waiter or a warrior, a visionary, or wall watcher?
Am I a strategist or fighting activist?
Sometimes, I feel that I'm just a nesting dove.
Perhaps at any given season, I'm all the above.
If we care enough to share in the intimate places with
God, we must dare to breathe that great and rare air of God. .
Come with me to a world of questions and mysteries.
Allow me to muse my way into some unpleasant places;
Places of craving for the face of God but finding no trace.
I speak not of people wearing holy halos or holy Joes.
I'm talking about Ordinary Mary and Everyday John going about
Their routine lives with a longing desire for a God-centered life.
You may not concur; yours may be a different world,
Or perhaps you've never ventured into the murky waters
Of your soul as have I. Anyway, this place is real.
On occasions, my soul longs to see, to hear, to feel,
To touch and be touched, to sense and taste God
In unusual, yet Biblical ways. That longing, that deep
desire of which I speak is not always or should I say, is seldom
reciprocated. It could also be that I get distracted and fail to
recognize God's reply. Am I making sense so far, or am I stranded
On an island alone? Anyway, the sign I long to see is a 'no show',
And it seems that God hides himself from me, for my good of course.
It's when the voice, the sounds I expect to hear are not there or so faint
and distant as to not be useful. Or when God is silent, or so it seems. Or
when I do not feel Him or His Presence, and/or in fact, none of my sensory
faculties are in tune sufficiently to benefit. My best guess is that we are in "a trust only zone" where we feel at our lowest, but in reality, there is that side
of us being informed that we are experiencing our finest hour. I tell you, this
present muse was inspired by a conversation last night with close friends.
We concluded that we, whether dove or warrior, are always benefactors of his love because God is faithful, and in His time, he makes all things beautiful.
092720PSCtest, Completely Your Choice(33), Brian Strand
Contest entry11220, HM's and NA's October 2020, C. La France. 2P
Judged and NA on October 26, 2020 by Brian Strand
The world in 100 years ... Oh, perish the thought
Former President, Ronald Dump, who was cryogenically frozen following his assassination after winning the ‘No Bull’ Peace Prize in December 2018, has been successfully defrosted.
Ronald Dump recently defeated his son, former President Barrrrron Van Dump, in the lunar by-election. President Dump will be taking up his forty year term at his office-in-the-round penthouse suite at ‘Lunar-Tic Towers’. This magnificent golden palace-like structure is situated on the fringes of the 29th bunker on the dark side of the moon. Naturally, it is a member’s only golf club and entry is strictly by special invitation only. It will be staffed by scantily costumed Honey-Bunny girls and models who the Dump handpicks. They will attend to every need and whim of his guests, unless he requires their expertise "handling."
President Dump will be supported by his android wife, Argenta, (humanoid model number 3060 with real hair and life-like body parts) who superseded the old model 'Milionairluva', who sadly could not be revived due to silicon and botox poisoning which ran rampantly throughout her Barbie doll body
The Lunar-Tic Towers will be totally off limits to the paparazzi so there can be no photographs taken of the Irn Bru brewing facility of his favourite drink which was banned in Scotland. He seeks to insure that no "fake news" stories are leaked by the press.
In his bid to tackle rising unemployment, currently standing at 99.6%, Dump will be advised by his new best friend and strategist, Kym Dung Hung Lo. This humanitarian almost obliterated the human race by detonating a nuclear warhead at the Dung Hung Lo Toy Factory which was caused when Dung Hung Lo threw his dolly out of the pram. So impressed by such a move, Dump hired him and invited Dung Hung Lo to be his number 2 to succeed him.
May God bless the earth, what little is left of her .. she needs all the help she can get with these two lunar tics in charge
6/1/18
100 year Contest sponsored by Brian Davey
Our prez is now Donald J Trump
Who has promised to clean out the sump
Well he's certainly no wussy
When groping a pussy
What more to expect from a gump?
In charge of the Vice, Michael Pence
Said some things that embrace little sense,
"Global warming's a myth"
But's now taking the fifth
In attempting to straddle the fence
We all recall general Flynn
Put in charge of security spin
A trained atomiser
No more Trump's advisor -
His deal with the devil's his sin
The billionaire Betsy Devos
Making plans for a school albatross
Hating free education
Backs private castration
And kids will be bearing her Cross.
The Congress approved Jeff B. Sessions
Ignoring his racist obsessions
He seemingly cares
More for foreign affairs
While forgiving Klan's toxic transgressions.
Chief strategist Stephen K. Bannon
Develops the Great Again Canon:
The Goldman Sachs Bankster
Turned yellow rag gangster
Flings crap from the New Order cannon
Says EPA ruler Scott Pruitt
"Instead of dry facts, we intuit..."
(His work as denier
Keeps profits much higher)
"... If everything dies, well, just screw it"
The war whoops of Mad Doggy Mattis
Awaken the death apparatus
With boundless expense
For a doomsday defence -
Armageddon administered gratis
The magnates no longer need lobby
Or fight regulations thought snobby -
Now set in the saddle
They're herding the cattle
And pulling the strings as a hobby
Now the Don can start wielding the axes
Truncating the tariffs and taxes
The Mafia boss
Is dismissing the dross
And poverty's pain as it waxes
OF WARS AND PEACE EVERYWHERE
Around the world—evil raging wars continue to be steadfastly fought
In the name of lasting peace;
The military industrial complexes have found the puppets they’ve sought,
Both in the ruling West and East;
Mislead cannon fodders on each side, are being sent as heroic anti terrorists—
To theirs and others death;
While the war mongers play pass time war games of might military strategist—
Claiming what of Earth’s resources are left.
Nuclear power is once again the most prized of all sought after possessions;
Embryo and fetus organs are the new ticker tapes.
Bloated bellies—reflecting world hunger—have become the victims of recessions;
Freedom and justice, victims of world-wide rapes;
Meanwhile, the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness of a roof over our head,
Have become worthless pursuits of the game;
No matter how loud the cries and screams of the masses of walking dead,
The mongers cry, ‘ask God who’s to be the blame’.
Around the world—Sabbaths continue to be segregated as peace is from love;
War remains the king pin.
The hawk remains on high—his talons clutching the neck of the defenseless dove:
Bigotry and war know no sin.
The dawn of the Age of Aquarius has come and gone—nothing has really changed
As the prophecies predicted and supposed.
Today, another new day is upon the horizon—faith and hope having long arranged
A peace only the angles could have reposed.
Behold, the many rivers we’ve crossed, now flow into the sea of a new found day;
None can stem the tides of the blood flow of peace and equity streaming our way.
A storm collides, with a mystic flame,
It's raw force strikes, the last ancient Phoenix,
She rival's in pains agony, falling to the earth below.
The fire bird descends, crashing unto Mount Olympus,
From burnt ashes residue, a new deity arises,
Behold it is she, Athena the golden goddess.
The blaze of hail's fire, burns through her finger tips,
Thunder bolts strike, in aggressions anger,
Wisdom's strategist, in the art of war.
None compare to this battle hardened warrior,
Patron saint of the gods, a heavy metal protectress,
She is the iron clad maiden, guardian of the
Grecian world.
A shimmering silver shield of lightening,
Blinds in a flash oppositions foe,
Weildiing the double edge blade of justice,
Her righteous might vs. evil's dark force.
Doesn't the earth itself shake utterly,
At her mere appearance.
Blow the ivory tusken horn, oh mighty Nikey,
Beloved symbol for victory, to vanquish thy adversary.
Sitting on the left shoulder of Athena, as the clash
Begins in Olympia, leave no Titan alive or unmangled.
Through the haze's fog, a golden chariot appears,
Pulled by Hades twelve black Stallions, breathing
Hell's fire, with crimson eyes piercing the nights
Dark abyss.
Thus she is the master of this devils herd, a
Golden Goddess Athena, striking fear in the
Hearts of the foreign invaders.
In the Greek pantheon, her valor is celebrated,
And she is victorious on the behest of the gods.
Pay homages respect to her, Athenian's, for she is,
The Grecian image to courage and strength.
Beware this golden goddesses glare, it is the rising
Of the storm to come.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Around the world—evil, raging wars continue to be steadfastly
Fought in the name
Of lasting peace;
The military industrial complexes have found the puppets
They’ve sought
In the ruling
West and East;
Mislead cannon fodders on each side are being sent as heroic
Anti-terrorist
To theirs and others’ death;
While the war mongers play pass-time war games of the mighty
Military strategist—claiming what
Of Earth’s resources are left.
Nuclear power is once again the most prized of all desired possession;
Embryo and fetus organs—
The new ticker tapes;
Bloated bellies—reflecting world hunger—remain the victims of recessions;
Freedom and justice,
Victims of world-wide
Rapes—
Meanwhile, the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness of roofs over the head,
Have become worthless
Pursuits of the game;
No matter how loud the screams of the masses of the walking dead,
The mongers only cry,
‘Ask God who’s the blame.’
Around the world, Sabbaths continue to be as segregated as peace from love;
War remains
The king pin.
The hawk remains on high—his talons clutching the neck of the defenseless dove:
Bigotry and war
Know no sin.
The dawn of the age of Aquarius has come and gone—nothing has really changed
As prophesized,
Predicted and supposed.
Behold, a new day is upon the horizon; faith and hope having long arranged a peace
Only the angles could
Have reposed;
Behold—the many rivers we’ve crossed now flow into the sea of a new found day;
None can stem the tides of the blood of peace and equity streaming our way.
A Game
Chequered
!
Verbose;
Pawned divinity
Words are pieces
Phrases are moves
Players' wordsmiths
Egos crowned kings
Drawn out are words
Empty stands sheath
Reveal your Chess
Strategy-Tactics
Grand master Mikhail Tal speak
On checker board strategies.
"The deep desires
Of a chess player
To lead opponent
Into deep
Forest
Dark
And
The
Path
As Way out
Narrow enough
For only one to fit.
Quintessential paradox
Of battle games with words
Insiders from their prison cages
Re-arrange pieces in endless loop
Noisy minds trapped in eerie silence
Tactics is knowing-
What's done when there’s something to do
Strategist is busy -
In making, in contemplating counter moves
The gamer: the cold calculative mover, brutal
in purpose, moves words, forward and backward
The gamer knows; the words shall be rearranged
Checkered boards of Chaotic; Noisy; Wordy; Game.
The sale
Buy one
Get Two
The-Chessmatic mover
The-Charismatic Baiter
Squarer of self and ego
the believer;the knower
Biting bytes; Now is No
In -A never ending loop
The Self
But One
Not Two
Settled-flow-words when soaked in love
Entrenched-in- compassion all powerful
Wherein in-mated in thoughts and deed
To,
Checkmate the words-as-bait- is tactics
Know,
The web of words is A dense wild forest;
It is A habitat of 'Mind's wild wanderings.
.
The gamer; moves words; fore backward
In another brutal checkered board game;
~
Salute to the woman who knows who she is
And why she is who she is
A powerful being
Once thrown into a deep end of the ocean
But swam her way back to shore
She never stops moving forward
Nothing can ever pull her backwards
Such a brave warrior
Shout out to the Superwoman
Determined to change the status quo
Because she feels the need to do so
Just like an eagle
She soars higher and higher
As the wind blows stronger
She does not let anything deter her
From reaching another level in life
Thumbs up to an amazing woman
A great force to be reckoned with
That committed Mother on the street
Who trades from sunrise to sunset
Trying to make ends meet
Oh, she has a heart so big!
Being mindful that come snow or sunshine
She has mouths to feed
I revere this gifted woman
Who uses her creativity
To make an impact in society
Despite the uniqueness of her talent
She remains a trendsetter
It could be the potter in whose hands clay becomes magic
The miner who touches gold, before it even gets sold to the markets
Or the strategist who sits in high-level meetings, making sure organizations do not collapse
A special mention to the special woman
Who chooses not to give up
She understands that others look up to her
The smart lady out there, with a clear vision
She makes things happen for her family, community and the world at large
She deserves a badge of honour
Because she is remarkable!
Although Tai-Gueng-Uang’s* wife
did not abandon her husband but wanted
to avoid poverty, she, now, is so sad and agonizing
because no water poured to the ground can be recovered.
Although the people say that Tai-Gueng-Uang angled
the sun, moon, stars and clouds and winds with straight hook
dropped in water,
why, not speak of the time,
this incompetent old fool, a man incapable of catching even,
with a hook and delicious bits, a smallest fish in the pond,
scraping the ground with a broken dipper for spilled water?
The fool though knew that the opportunity is not given
to everyone who wants but is for the chosen ones,
yet walked up and down restlessly on the stage
it was never allowed for him to step on;
now he sits on the stage where the many big and little stars
stepped on and performed their best in the applause with hand clapping,
dropping a line faced to the empty seats in the dark and dismal theatre.
Why the only yell of sarcasm echoes
in the empty space however? Why not the laughter
but the melancholic tune rings from the orchestra pit nevertheless?
For whom the requiem rises to a chorus from backstage nonetheless?
*Chou Royal House political and military strategist and Wen Wang’s teacher. Later invested as a feudal lord of Tzi by Un Wang the son of Wen Wang.
This world of different social cultures of interest and perpetual crucial competition is in a boiling state of cruelty and antipathy.
After prayer and during the hours of reflecting, it occurs to me how staggering God's love is for us and that he shows his love through compassion and sympathy.
In the biblical text, it teaches us that his love is bound by his wisdom and mercy.
It is staggering how he still finds us worthy.
It seems as though the hope for salvation and redemption is diminishing in the spirit of mortal man.
It seems that there is an intellectual, vicious, evil craftmanship at hand.
The World seems to be in a tumultuous spin and the faithful are being swallowed up by a whirling ocean of sorrow.
I think of the wondrous ways of God in communicating to us through his son Jesus, who teaches us to be strong in our position of faith in God's plans and purpose for tomorrow.
It is staggering to me that God so loves us that he has an intricate purpose for this Earth.
It is staggering to me that God is a perfect immortal strategist with his complex creation of the entire universe.
In the biblical text, there is authentication of his love for us
I must stay righteously sober and conscious.
December 2023.
Titus chapter 2 verses 9 thru 12