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
From ashes of pain, true leaders rise,
Forged in struggle’s unyielding cries.
Yet now, from gilded thrones of greed,
False prophets spawn, with lies they breed.
They weave deceit, a cunning art,
To hijack souls and rend the heart.
Using hired blades and looted dimes,
They buy men to side their evil dreams
Behind a flag, their falsehoods creep,
While nation bleeds and victims weep.
they wear a tearful mask in public to trap
They toast with scorn still pretend saints ,
They preach of pride, to draw borders red,
holding nationalism drawing swords ,
With gods they raise divisive flags,
demanding more blood for their political zigzags.
Their minions sow yet viler lies,
To reap the votes that death devise.
As tears cascade through broken towns,
They laugh on stages holding cruel schemes.
pantheon rome
dome
dissolves
before our eyes
transmutes
into
dishevelled
tresses
in need of a comb
So it's back to love, gonna write about love
My favourite subject besides giggles
The thrill, the passion, the heat of the moment
Makes me wanna wiggle and jiggle
Love makes me act in very strange ways
As if I'm possessed by some demons
Always been a very prim and proper man
Really can't imagine the reason
Maybe I'm reliving my teenage years
Heard you do when reaching old age
Those romps in the hay with the girl next door
When teenage hormones just raged
Well this didn't turn out the way I expected
It's void of the lovey dovey stuff
So I'm gonna sit right down and try again
Sometimes I find it real tough
Nights unveil the darkness
Of dreary, dismal days
Thoughts plummet deeply
And diverge in disarray
Anxieties surmount
Ability to cope is seized
Sad face, a pseudo-smile
Hope barely within reach
November 10, 2021
If only for a moment you could let me inside
To see a great fortress, or hobbit hole where you hide
I won't be judgemental and play toying tricks
I just want a gander, see what makes you tick
Feel the pain of your sorrow, wicked past telling lies
Keeping you held at gunpoint by yourself stepped aside
Behold the rainbows and unicorns oh what a flurry of bliss
See I know you have self-pity a cacophony minds mix
Something awful and strange brought peace to your being
And it puzzles me so to see you standing there breathing
I really don't know why this happened to you
But I feel for you buddy even when you are rude
Making false accusations about nonsense, a ruse
I know something is wrong so stop hiding the truth
I can see all the way through you all the way to the roof
Where the shingles are hanging not a drop left of vermouth
Let me in for a moment, let me see, I won't bite
Just to glance at the person whom I reconciled thrice....
It’s said, the weight of the soul is 21 grams.
Dr MacDougall told us this.
To measure, he put the dying on the scales.
Dr MacDougall, proving his point
Took some dogs, weighed them too.
Dr MacDougall was a man of science
He weighed the dead, then killed the dogs
Dr MacDougall of Haverhill, Massachusetts.
A man of authority let’s not forget,
Dr MacDougall overlooked what did not suit,
The dead folk lost weight, no dieting involved.
Dr MacDougall was a God fearing man,
On weighing the dogs they’d stayed the same,
Dr MacDougall didn’t need every detail.
Dogs don’t have souls, all knew that.
Dr MacDougall split the difference,
Firm in the knowledge of Gods great design,
Dr MacDougall published his paper.
The weight of the soul is 21 grams.
A scream of martyrdom, could be a collision,
I've felt my colony and called them to die.
Never I've seen on death so delightful breathing,
when in heaven I said, what do you want to know?
A blonde nymph spread legs, I gagged and climax,
these holy wars lied down and still search for others.
Roger roger roger, please go home now and sleep,
your family is first, don’t let them follow it.
The best martyrdom is, don’t attack the privacy,
let's respect each other and don’t treat each other.
Copy that copy that, I filed down the sin,
so blonde nymph vomits and forever virgin.
So sophic, so subtle, so sensual, so strong,
He gleamed in God’s garments so fair.
To the virginal mother he sang his sweet song
With her family happily there.
So trusting, so fearing, so captive, so free,
She savored his soothing embrace.
From the lips that she kissed came the dreadful decree:
“Your children I’ll chase from this place.”
So anguished, so broken, so steadfast, so brave,
She begged for their souls all the while,
Scarred but safe, they escaped from the nest of that knave,
To their grief now the grave of her smile.
So charming, so callous, so craven, so snide,
He finished his prophecy’s curse:
“With a saccharine sword I’ll secure you inside,
In sadness, in sickness, for worse.”
The pseudo-science
Cooking is not rocket science but would be cook has to
learn the basic after this he must discover why some
food doesn’t go well mixed with the wrong ingredients
The rudimentary is salt, pepper and butter and then
spices depending on the dish.
The food on the plate should look appetising but not
over-decorated, a cook should not aspire to be an artist
for that, he should go to an art school and paint Pretty pictures.
To put a bit of full-fat cream in some gravies
Is ok, but the dish should not swim in grease.
Always serve fresh salad and go easy on the potatoes.
Mint, peppermint, Cool Mint, badminton. . . .
But that's not what I meant.
You still don't know what I meant?
Then I'll give you a hint.
There's a famous guy named Clint.
Yes, his family name is Eastwood.
As an actor, he's sharp as a flint.
He always wears a shirt with a nice tint.
He hates to drive a car with a dint.
He once wrote a book that never got out of print.
He once daydreamed of being a quint.
He's diligent, he always works without a stint.
"Go ahead, make my day!"
says he, with his eyes shining with a glint.
So tidy is he, well-dressed is he,
without a single loose piece of lint.
Never did he do that, no he didn't.
So said he, with his trademark squint.
But he's not learned enough to be able to read a Septuagint.
Once he broke his leg, and they had to put it into a splint.
pseudo-expression's
of ragged diamonds
a fugazi sans brilliance,
shiner midst vague skies
in the optical jags of
practical indifference
PSEUDO-REALITY
The river of time flows toward infinity
The black hole spill over the matter of white hole to security
People are fighting for the nonsense and conspiracy
Don't you imagine that everything is pseudo-reality
Tr?n Minh Hi?n Hien Tran Orlando July 24, 2016
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.
*
Pseudo Criminal
Spic and span
Washing laundry like dirty guacamole cash
In Miami sand..... buried hidden Latin trash
Hurray for the tango so grand
Pseudo criminals holding poetic book
When everyone knows they are the crooks
The underbelly of wrong upbringings
Margaritas tasting as sour as the opera lady singing
Her pimp smiles with undisguised guile
For after dusk he will do as he must
Pseudo criminals lurking with pseudo lusts
Full of their pseudo charms that are sure to disgust
Criminals and cowards share the same dance
Brave with words and at first danger seeping pants
They have convictions in their crimes
Some have even two
Beware the criminals lurking around you
Brought to you by Sesame Street Poetry
Today’s poem was sponsored by the word “Pseudo” and the number “2”
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