Believers and non-believers collide
Where hope and bridges are built to unite
Swords and blades sparring in stark, open side
Oil in flames devouring grounds that ignite.
Pillars and towers of creeds in graphite
Melting away like rhyolite of quartz
Freezing as ornaments, crystallized parts.
Sad Truth, this last century has been rough.
Remember when you were sought by poets,
and those who found you were revered.
Don’t you yearn to return to an age
when humanity proclaimed you with praise?
“Yes, those glory years when I was placed
upon pedestals and inscribed in stone.
But then they claimed I was contingent, and
everyone’s allowed to have their own –
that I had lied there ever was a Truth.”
“My twin, Beauty, now receives the glory,
and basks whenever poets opine
their lofty, transcendental thoughts.
But alas, everything and everyone
is now ‘beautiful’ – for it is far
easier to buy the cosmetics and
surgery to find her rather than toil
to unearth my deeply buried gems.
‘Congrats, dear Beauty!’ My loss is your gain,
I’ve faded away – but may come again.”
Self absorbance is fckn funny
lemme ask you...
"When'd you get so special, hunny?"
THE USED
Everyones so high and mighty...
...i'm just high...
wondering where everyone
got these pedestals from
Hook it up bro----
Can I get one too?
I wanna think I'm better than everyone
just like you
Twisting my mind just
to understand you
probably the dumbest thing
i could possibly do
Unaccept the facts
Wish time would just turn back
Then i wouldnt give a fck bout you
I'd d have my roll dog by my side
he was the ONLY one that was the truth
He didn't wanna be the man,
he just was
First real friend..
actually BROTHER that loved me
Js because
Family from the min we met
Someone I knew I'd never be abe to forget
When I lost him I died a little inside
So thinking you'd actually be down
i feel like a fckng as*hle
hoping that you would still be around
That's the fckng truth
Written: July 30, for contest Sponsored by: Rob Carmack
**************
I sketch your pedigree in marrow script,
each speech slice out of salt spines—
No ledger can fetter the flow of flame,
or control the smell of storm-born mind.
Wombs are pedestals blazed by pyre,
where armor converts into full ember.
Steel insulation warm thin hot smooth downy shepherd smoothness. Pistol clasps palms crystal misses birching basket weavers.
Fluffy firm pedestals release hard deniers.
Doldrum office charts demonstrating
Appendages conceal resistance.
Halcyon boogie board heroes.
Greek play rehearsal.
Steel insulation warm thin hot smooth downy shepherd smoothness. Pistol clasps palms crystal misses birching basket weavers.
Fluffy firm pedestals release hard deniers.
Doldrum office charts demonstrating
Appendages conceal resistance.
Halcyon boogie board heroes.
Greek play rehearsal.
What manner of vengeance
As a stench invading fragrance
The kind unlike princes and kings
Worthy to be denied pedestals and wings
To never be beheld when people look up
For it shall be bile in the people’s cup
A man who came in the Name of the Lord
With strangling cords of extortion beyond afford
Turning against brother with straight face
Next moment claiming piety without grace
Tainting our mettle and name
Making shame our claim to fame
What then shall we say dear brethren
Be consoled that God watches from heaven
And will save us with His Righteous Right Arm
But our due appeasement and charm
Must be our obedience and reverence
That His Spirit saturates every conscience
For we have failed in decision
Logic, intelligence and wit now face attrition
As life hands us situation after situation
What to do with the observations awaiting interpretation
Only surrender all to God in prayer
For to delve and to dare all proves too much to bear
K. Muitherero.
If vainglory were a preacher
It'd resemble a rustic pastor
Lost in how profound his grasp of scripture is
Therefore echoes more of his fervent faith
Than the Creator's boundless might.
If vainglory embodied a nation
It would mirror a union divided
52 pieces striving for cohesion
But only sowing seeds of discord
A world seen as a science Lab for experiments.
If vainglory wore human form
It'd take the guise of godlike leaders
a Trump, a Thatcher; perched on pedestals
Viewing the world as a puzzle to solve
Unaware that forcing fit leads to vanishing
I love you baby, forever and a day.
I'll always be here you would say.
Up on this pedestals where I sit,
looking like a fool for believing that .
The signs were there right from the start, I
just couldn't see them because of the love in my heart.
You couldn't let go of the ghost from your past,
but hid it will behind the mask.
So many times begging crying down on my knees,
open your eyes, see me please baby please.
No matter what we argued about,
I loved you still without a doubt.
I can give credit where credit is due,
for the best actors award that titles for you.
You played the role and played it well,
but now that it's over you can go to hell.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Feelings were hurt and my heart was crushed.
There are soft whispers only I can hear
coming from shivers deep within my soul,
"Save me from that which I most fear.
Hostility around us that we can't control."
My heart beat more rapidly in its confusion.
Though sheltered, I couldn't decrease its pace.
The world continues to proliferate delusion ~
cause for the woeful state of the human race.
Brutish rulers sit on pedestals as their throne
while innocents must claw in the dirt to survive.
Where is another David who will hurl the stone,
to free my heart and soul and keep hope alive?
I searched for the beginning -
to find myself at the end.
All the things I was so sure of -
turned out to be pretend.
Somehow I had convinced myself-
things would be ok.
But all that I believed in -
came crashing down today.
I had even taught myself -
nothing mattered and not to care.
But this agony I am feeling -
is more than I can bare.
I’m trapped within and found without -
no method of escape
I’ve got nowhere to turn to-
it’s time I face my fate.
I see no point in trying-
to continue anymore.
All the dreams I held so closely -
lay broken on the floor.
The stars which shined so brightly -
within my evening skies.
Have fallen from their pedestals-
exposing only lies
Darrell
Pedestals..
Climbing up
Looking up
Seeming deviations
Extraordinaries..
Characters posing
As deserving of
Attention..leaders
It might be said..
Or knowers..
Or worshipers..
The stories
Separation has
Wrought..
Showing up as
Already This...
Flowers before my eyes
Dancing below the skies
Flowers for your eyes
Twirling yellow in dyes
Flowers I offer you
Waltzing for me and you
Flowers I send to you
Two hearts, me and you
Waltz of flowers
In the morn shining in pedestals
Flowers like showers
In the night scenting like petals
Waltz of fragrant flowers
In my heart you are mine
Flowers in radiant towers
In your heart I will dine
Waltz of scented flowers
Dancing without fetters
Waltz of painted lovers
Together blooming with forevers
Morning aloneness.
Dawn imparts prized magic.
Next, the star blinks and vanishes.
The Moon and Sun share the same sky.
Autumn trees reveal their souls.
was interred under a leafy canopy.
Hazy memories of the past persist.
Striking was impossible, yet I bore it.
within a person’s heart.
The mind reflects a rocky promontory.
where spaces collided within the body,
Pulling their last breath, they expired
They acquire permission to fly.
The body, mind, and soul are all bound.
a while ago I grasped this.
The world has got its last odds of fading.
Pedestals are left above the hazes.
A cold bite encounters snow and frost.
Yet, I am jumping out of this plane.
for I, who soared to towering heights
Will I deliver you back to Earth?
Kisses melt snow and frost.
Lever your heart for love and empathy.
Written: November 19, 2022
If all you need to ask, "Is beauty truth?"
It isn't much you need to know on earth.
It's less than what appraisers say it's worth,
This jar with frieze depicting frozen youth.
Curators and collectors both agree
If forged or stolen, sold dishonestly
Museum art debased on pedestals
Makes hiding art seem safely tenable.
It may be better beauty be destroyed.
A little worshiper of idols still
Resides inside and ever, always will
Until we're much less worldly employed.
While thirsty an ascetic often thinks
Urns beautiful when everybody drinks.
(8/29/22)
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