Long Transmit Poems
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A magical chemical infatuation
to disregard the tradition
of natures connectivity and diversity
dragged to the will of its subjugation
to dig into the complex cells intimacy
its mass increments of the yields
killing off the birds and the insects
for the sake of crop conformity
in the unnatural fields
A perfectly poisonous promise
released in defusable clouds
through the early morning mists
chugged and pumped out grotesque deformity
in silent avenues of crop conformity
the deathly dew eliminates
all so ripe so well protected
in latent morbidity awaits
Layers by "half-life" lifeless inherited
in this chemists manufacturing of a chemical romance
the inorganic compounds of devastation
bound by an economical tourniquet
to plough again the blighted earth
split breakdown the biological integration
a quick fix to be persuaded
a million years of evolution
the symbiosis of the world in Gods hand
was not a patent so diligently as patiently perfected
or so insidiously infected in the land
Mechanized desert to produce the taste
a tasteless morsel of a savored remembrance
to its colour yet another substance added
organophosphates persistently digested
concentrations in environmental compartments
disarrange the circles tilt the balance
the enemy is natures necessity
needs be defeated
swap it over transmit a hell-bent malignancy
Collusion's by crude oil alchemy
improving on a profitable perimeter
this chemical romance of manufactured efficiency
O = HO - P - HO - NH - O - OH ! OH !
take a look at what marvelous science has made !
broad spectrum killer
needs be to murder off bio-diversity
and 5-enolpyruvylshikimate-3 phosphate synthase
is so much better
so much cleverer than natures ways
so taint the population with polluted fodders feed
killing off the birds and the bees
killing off the fish, the insects and the fungi
and killing off our babies
So perfectly formed
and so perfectly preserved
perfectly free of any blemish
all sitting on the billion shelves
of a million supermarkets
So perfectly wrapped
and so perfectly presented
the perfectly picture of health
and in its cells something so insidious
and the perfectly poisonous
is its promise
So perfectly formed
and so perfectly preserved
perfectly free of any blemish
all sitting on the billion shelves
of a million supermarkets
"Fata Morgana"
feet hardly touch the ocean
when silent stars of no voice
transmit words to pay the ferryman
on the water no reflection
gently the sun waves smiling as if to say
feel that, the warmth of waking sleep
no fear of what remains hidden
it will unravel from inside that which is all too deep
walking towards you across the briny mist
from ancient stories forgotten
a halo of St Elmo’s Fire surrounds
it stands still for a short while before you
watching
you,
walking water with your bare feet
faith in dreams consistent in their constancy
that visit you when you are complete yet incomplete
holds out its hand to lead the way across
sharp burning rocks, now a desert, climbing mountains that are steep
a small life crumbles to powdered sand
more than 40 days silent gone astray
years the turning of untimed tides pretence
meets a haunting vision beckoning, new horizon, odd unclear
safe harbour left long ago,
lost in that ornery time, cursed by flying monkeys' bellows
of bloodletting and betrayal, stock still, standing amidst the shallows
somewhere along the way dark narcissus followed
what breaks over the bow
washes all stern fear away
sacred wings of albatross
ne’er to be sacrificed, no more night nor day
souls of ancient mariners
forever follow me, even when I stray
the rich baritone of bedtime stories
messages in code conveyed, I hear them still today
now swallows spooning spinnakers
running directly before wind and sea
the water turns to wine, much stranger the belief,
all manna of trust it feeds
bells tolling
no man’s an island entire of itself
in unusual reckonings
observing swimming hearts, that hear and see
the eyes that melt, this more curiously
in truth, the dream defends
messages eternal
life it never ends
tides move in and out
never alone when we begin
fata morgana
softly the moon ascends
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
VCB
Lux Vitae
5.5.10
"Under a splintered mast,
torn from ship and cast
near her hull,
a stumbling shepherd found
embedded in the ground,
a sea-gull
of lapis lazuli,
a scarab of the sea,
with wings spread—
curling its coral feet,
parting its beak to greet
men long dead."
("Talisman", Marianne Moore)
15.8
“Have faith, my son, have faith
You are Awareness alone
the Self, the One
You are the Lord of Nature”
15.9
“The body is made of worldly stuff
It comes, it lingers, it goes
The Self neither comes nor goes, yet remains
Why mourn the body?”
15.10
“If the body lasts until the end of time
or perishes today—
is there gain or loss for you?
You who are Awareness?”
15.11
“Let the waves of the universe rise and fall as they will
You have nothing to gain or lose
You are the ocean”
15.12
“You are the substance of Consciousness
The world is You
Who is it that thinks
he can accept or reject it?
And where does he stand?”
15.15
“Leave behind such distinctions
as “I am He, the Self,”
and “I am not this.”
Consider everything Self
Be desireless
Be happy”
15.16
“Your ignorance alone creates the universe
In reality One alone exists
There is no person or god other than You”
15.17
“One who knows for certain
that the universe is illusion,
a no-thing,
becomes desireless,
pure Awareness,
and finds peace in the existence of nothing”
The zone of deep silence
Beyond mind
Presence in self existence
Formless space aligned
(21-August-2019)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Verses revisited on 02-December-2021
Let’s begin then, by exiting self-hypnosis
Enslavement to lower mind
Melding mind, soul, spirit, Perichoresis
Exiting narrow thoughts that bind
Our innate aliveness, where is it located
Is it in the head or the heart
Desire enmeshed thought, has us agitated
Until we add love to cart
Head and heart meld, in a stillness continuum
Devoid of thought, fears and desires recede
There remains in mind-body, no ego residuum
Layer by layer, erst habit patterns we weed
There is no thought, yet our awareness remains
Poised in the void in childlike wonderment
Soul cleansed of feral stains, measuring not gains
Magnetised, reveals innate essence luminescent
We may call this Holy Spirit, kundalini or grace
There is no one now within, to assign any label
In timeless time, we may see God face to face
Inner alignment being all it takes for this miracle
Becoming the answer, we need no translator
Yet the light that already is, we cannot transmit
Ceasing to be a doer, as a humble receptor
Know God in-dwells all, when we cease to resist
He's got a big ego,
he keeps offending people,
he scoops the same scoop,
and round and round we loop,
until the bubble pops
and the world sees him flop,
reject the rude,
deflate your ego,
swearing kills the mood,
you able?
I'm getting too cocky,
I could outbox Ali,
wrestle with The Rock
reach the top and stop and mock,
ego full of stock
forget the tick tock
because I'm 24 7
until I get into heaven,
insomnia beckons
and amnesia threatens,
bend rhymes like Beckham,
dunk punks like Jordan,
the mental perfection
with its rhyme injection,
about to live the lesson
of the ego outstretchin'
the limit it can flex,
the crux, the critical,
I rhyme the old skool
and wear hip hop shoes,
I hate the mumble flop
with the words unused,
it's just ear abuse,
on the loose,
with no use,
it's noise with no excuse.
I suspect that this project
will impact and inflict,
sick tricks, and then retract
and evaporate back
to the gods intact,
before it's redirected
to another level head,
who wrecks and blows it,
crash the car,
went too far,
you go from feeling cool,
to a sample of your stool,
that big head
now gone and the face left red,
baking big mistakes,
taking punches from a heavyweight,
David doesn't always beat Goliath,
cometh the hour,
cometh the coffin,
you can't stimulate with coffee
because the heart stopped beating,
the soul is set free
and this world you're leaving,
beaten down with ease,
lying dead and bleeding,
how's that big ego?
You still offending people?
One hand holds but the other can't reach,
near rhymes aren't real rhymes
and sand doesn't mean a beach,
but if you find the flow,
find a way to wined the cable,
then transmit clear and stable,
and accurate like a machete
you'll rhyme like a line of spaghetti,
but with deadwood on your lead
and at ease in your bed head,
because it feels so easy with an ego,
then know it wont make a good show,
so put your feet on the ground
be aware of how the words sound,
leave behind the prima donna
or become another gonna,
stop the passive aggression,
or accept a massive regression,
fill your minds storage with knowledge
beyond the college,
there's always more to learn
and more wood to burn,
big heads remove themselves
when they burn their own shelves.
She is a popular decadent aura.
Accusatory and crafty beginning with the Torah.
Debauched by nature
consumer of the spiritually immature.
Guided by licentious ways
she tries to plant her foot on the narrow path officially paved
for those who's steps are heavier than their burdens low
sparks of her anger smoothly flow
inquisitive to the point of doubt
concerned with wells of constant drought
she grows with pride
skins of scales for hide
not to seek
for she pretends to be meek
on the other side of the valley she peeks
screams cannot out weigh her cries when conquest
finally overcomes distress
vigilant and reticent customs provide gain over souls equal to spirits
oh please hear it
the Truth speaks
and detest those that reap
her harvest for it drives coerced children into adulthood
if you have not encountered her you will wish you would
only to make sure she is cast out to emit
and transmit
left out to omit
the fear of God must be present
and stay
for that gift last always
make sure that her emerald rays
do not guide your days
you must wish for obscurity
not enmity
that already exist from her slithering tongue more than a thief, or
a destroyer of man, a terminator of spirits lost through her lies
from ties a lover of cries
from kingdom gains
that remain
a missed target
still no regrets
she finds comfort by missing out on blessings
so she shuts the windows progressing
to the door
back down to the floor
she goes
and grows
to know
more of her followers that actually take out time to find her
just as Wisdom demands to be sought out
she too stands, on the streets to be bought out
with a price far less than fools gold
her value will never unfold
or produce,
but reproduce
non-efficient works and deception
from a mere conception
of haughtiness, a demoness
who is not loved
but covered with a glove
of rhinestones
and silent tones
yes she whispers louder than a lion's roar,
but choose to ignore
and begin to explore
a voice with the flow of many waters,
a King of many fathers
that do not become intimate with her and slowly walk past
not to become as grass
she cannot last
if you will simply let her pass
TwentyFabelThree
TwentyFabelThree
Viewpoint Of The Fish
.<
Invariably life is surmounted and over come with obstacles designed to amuse
the abusers among the men the users of the clay to mold the old and make them
pay for unimagined hurts inflicted by society when for all the world to see the hurt
inscribed on them my enemy is nill and voided null and jointed separately
intended to become a monument of mediocre missing intentions faltering
commotions ending in so much incidental indentations of the misery of
man. "Well-informed people know it is impossible to transmit the voice over
wires and that were it possible to do so, the thing would be of no practical
value." - Editorial in the Boston Post (1865) This has always been attributed to
Thomas Alva Edison what he Rally said was this “To invent, you need a good
imagination and a pile of junk.” Referring of course to the poetry list of the
CharlaxAndroidSevenOne. The small boy was angry at us the fishermen we two
were men and strong and using bits and pieces of the little ones to catch some
larger for the skillet to add to beans we needed FISH and not just minnows we
could eat. “The fish feel pain” is what the boy said “just like humans do.” “NO”
both the eye and my friend agreed “they do not feel the same as you as eye as
we.” My friend became morose and actually tossed his minnows back and eye
grabbed all my pieces of the fish that eye was using just for bait and tossed as
far into the pond as fish could fly away from me the boy was not so easily undone
and mollified he wept and my friend tried to help him to get over it and frowning
eye was sorry for the day and beans we ate and beans we stayed and then eye
dared to make the complaint. “BOY is crazy we need to eat.” If you want to add to
this meal old man just go to the field and gather up some green onions eye have
plantered them in haste but they are long enough for yew to eat today. Hurriedly
eye rushed between the raindrops to get at the vegetables and then we
smashed the beans and made them into refried. The onions we ate as aside
dish was full of skillet mess
wait
my fabels is long but iff ewe love mee ewe will go now to part two
Silence Listens
In the quietude of a room at night
When all is hushed to stern and strict silence
When the soft chirping of crickets takes flight
When rebounds of the breeze are no hindrance,
A listening silence creeps in around,
A deep quietness invades the surround;
In the serene space where no voice slithers
Silence stretches its soft, sensitive ears
To eavesdrop a desolate folk`s shivers
Gauge the extent of a soul`s inner fears
Listen to pangs of a desolate heart
And try relief and rapture to impart;
The solitary silence of a room,
Seemly spot to delve down the inner self
The seedbed for truth to take root and bloom
A fitting ground to realise oneself,
Lends its kind ears to echoes from the wall
And is a close companion in the fall.
Let the roaring din of the outside world
Entice those who yearn for mundane delight;
For splendid souls who seek serenity
Silence of a room ignites inner light,
Ideal seedbed for enlightenment
And liberation from imprisonment.
Let the ears of silence hear our heartbeats,
Vibrations of our spirit and our soul,
That it may transmit tales of our feats
To the sky where it may wish to unfurl
As silence is the place where we become,
The source from where transpire our sweetest hums.
A simple god so slender and symbolic
having a one way onslaught in his approach
and toiling with the master-class of the game
to revolutionize an entire country away from his.
He bastardized his inheritance of stiffness and a crunch system
To transmit the pleasure of a video game to a live coverage.
A believer of his approach, a missionary in his style,
legendary in his execution, but often blind to its short comings.
Going an entire season without a fault
and giving the possibility to travel cloud 49
makes his glory carry such schoolbag of mysteries and awe.
From the African prince of Monaco, to the great George Weah
and the Dennises, Thierrys, Vierras and Anelkas,
he converts a dusty wood into a luxurious boat.
Academy is his bedroom, ventilated by continuity
even though some megastars were short of understanding this.
Maintenance of a certain threshold even with half loaded guns
is very difficult to achieve and impossible to maintain
but not at all to this attacking minded General.
Spending a decade to shoot regions near the actual target
under the stuffiness of limitations both in finances and talents
shines the stadium light even in the darkness of his underachievement.
Prudence and a closed fist was his personality’s widget
b’cos glory on the pitch alone isn’t his mental gadget.
Placing a repercussion of a very stiff budget
and his command, downgraded so low to a midget.
All these because he’s carried the club like a personal object
placing the short sightedness of instant glories to an eject.
Stability in his empire is now a complete project
As his winning dominance was once a European subject.
He’s now back with an intimidation which will make opposition fidget.
Back to his rank, as he wears all the colours
rising in significance after all the hurdles
heart poured out to a club glorifies him beyond a mere coach,
the riches of such dedication influences the staff of his reputation,
winning and being a champion has always been his signature.
He has once again proven it,
as the world of sports stands still in ultimate salute.
Breathe words.
They are the essence of life. Communication is universal and language is key.
Every word is powerful, and any utterance, no matter how small, has the power to wound, empower, enlighten, convict, condemn, control, sway, break someone’s heart, sign someone’s fate, push someone away, draw someone close, or open up a mind to a long forgotten truth that is now taking light.
We don’t appreciate them because they can’t be taken away. We take them for granted because they have always been there, even before we were old enough to use them, but in reality, where would we be with out them? We breath them out as they pass through our lips about a billion times a day. Whether it is face to face or on the phone. We write them down as they flow from our pens, keyboards, blackberries or typewriters, each piece of paper or wire locking in a series of electronic sequencing that will transmit our words on to someone else.
It sounds complicated but it’s really not. Words are powerful, but like any toll that is in the wrong hands, they have the power to harm or be used in a dishonest fashion. Words can be personalized and usually are, even though each one is used millions of times a day, in thousands of ways and for hundreds of purposes.
That is why I
BREATH
WORDS
Like they were lava in my veins, never taking a single one for granted and looking for the beauty each time I hear one for the first time. Dwelling on each and every sentence like when I was a child and would repeat everything anyone said to me, underneath my breathe just to savor the way that the words spilled from my tongue.
So now I give any and every word it’s due as if I despair of never hearing anyone say it again. Or what if I too, should forget of it’s existence and it’’s sweet venerable sound should never grace my lips again? I can think of no greater dishonor to the art of language as this. That is why language is my oxygen, and I
Breath
Words.
We are the smallest birds,and some mistake us for insects!We realize who we are,and we communicate on many levels of intelligence so that we can be relavent!,and connected,and respected.We fly faster ,and higher than any insect,and we possess an intelligence that can cause a president ,doctor,lawyer,teacher,preacher,racist,hater,player,actor,mystic,or even a critic to change their minds to do right: We do this just in the nick of time to be blessed for stopping a mess!! We fly and land on a man,s chest,or a woman's breast,and when we land there;they realize that we are not insects,but small birds with words to help us all hold our heads high ,and dry tears from every eye. We as poets are here to bring joy,and power while using words of wisdom in any arena where some have to ,and must make a decision!The words of a "Poet"can and does change people,and the way they behave,and bring joy into their nights and days. We feel the vibes,and we transmit the positive waves;both morning,noon,nights,and years,and all days!Maya Angelou landed on "MY" manly chest,and she landed on my mother's "Breast",and gave us a message,and a quest!We were dying,but we flew over "Death",and "Death passed us by! We are blessed,and we realize the reason why we did not die!We put on the whole suite of armor that has been given to us to have a victory over any enemy "Achieved",so that we will succeed!!WHEN "YOU GET" MONEY OR ANYTHING ELSE": YOU NEED TO "GIVE" IN ORDER FOR YOU TO CONTINUE TO "LIVE" OR MAYBE YOU WILL "DIE" FOR BEING "THE GREEDY" WHO WOULD NOT HELP "THE NEEDY"!!!! WHEN "YOU "LEARN" ,GO AHEAD AND "TEACH"!!!SCIENCE IS "KNOWLEDGE",! sCIENCE IS A CERTAIN "KIND"OF KNOWLEDGE.THERE EXIST KNOWLEDGE OF "ALL, ALL, KINDS,AND PHYSICS IS "JUST "ONE"!!! SPIRITUAL KNOWLEDGE IS WHERE "ALL SCIENCE,AND EVERY THING THAT CAN EXIST COMES FROM IN THE "UNIVERSE"....NOW "THE PHYSIST CAN BUST A "NUT" AND FINALLY "COME! THERE IS A .NUT TO CAUSE A .NUT.COM.AND THIS CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE!!! .COM=.NUT. WHAT IS .COM WITHOUT .NUT?