A false sense of pride born out of
Tearing down the weak is no panacea
For internal emptiness; a fervent prayer
To God, I do suggest, to help reconstruct
All that is broken within you, maybe then,
You'll find the road to true happiness.
Don’t take my word for it
I don’t know anything, she said
She thinks she’s being clever
Our auntie Mamie Bread
Her husband keeps his wisdom to himself of course
He likes his blueberry pie, and she can be a vindictive source
I heard this, that, and the other, but it might not be true
She repeats all gossip, our auntie Mamie Sue
I am not an expert, but I think you’d better find a different friend
I have heard he is a drinker, and his behavior goes beyond the bend
To get her to loosen up or give anyone a bit of a chance
Would mean to reconstruct her, as she does the gossip dance.
My Uncle Charlie sits in his chair, not speaking, gobbling his ice cream.
It amuses me to think that once upon a time, she was my uncle’s dream.
They get along terrifically, because he takes his opinions to work.
Shares nothing with his wife, careful not to irritate or irk.
OF US AND DISMANTLED JUSTICE
Equality smashed!
Slammed down by the new,
Unjust sledgehammering laws:
Scales of justice ripped away
And thrown in the junkyard:-
Time to reconstruct:
It’s human nature’s springtime;
Let’s rebuild justice:-
Yes, it’s reconstruction time,
Let’s get to rebuilding:-
With divine guidance,
Let us tear down injustice
With tools of repair:
True justice reconstructed;
Thus, making this country great:-
My soul weeps again, calling out your name,
Through endless dreams of silence.
I lose my roots, no longer knowing where you are,
My soulmate, from where will you appear in evenings?
I write letters in the night sky, stories drawn in stars,
On the canvas of life, I reconstruct the path to you.
I wait, lost in twilight, where are you, my love?
What place in the world hides you, what mountain deceives me again with you?
With lips parched by thirst, I touch your outline in dreams,
In the torches of cold nights, where I lose myself and lose you,
I close our story between the covers of longing,
In words that tumble from the soul, without purpose and without end.
I open the book again in the evening, when the heart is life's prey,
When loneliness flows through my veins, salty and bitter,
And though longing overcomes me, I rise with each moment,
No sky is too high when my soul holds onto you.
I search for your face in old newspapers, feel your scent in verses,
And my days pass by, pale, devoid of your light.
Every morning, I wait for you, my sun,
To brighten my day, to bring me smiles, to fill my soul with love.
I look at the ancient dilapidated stairs
Should I renew, reconstruct, rejuvenate or repair?
Revamp it as an original or make it posh, slick and chic?
Preplanning the right refurbish is an important trick.
I already understand that children
grow inside two blinks,
as quickly as the novel Mayfly
comes to the surface to die.
I'm pining for those first days again,
of edentate smiles, milestones
to fund future independence.
Pineapple-sized hearts I cradled;
lulled, exchanged dank nappies for dry;
ferried on uncrossed seas,
your armada.
Smoothed rough waters as if by divine speech
because mothers can. I was thinking that I could always be your oxygen.
I let you walk through me, under, right over.
The rocking horse
brought for my bromelain angels
winged you away -
this blasted Pegasus ...
I miss you now.
How you rode away,
ephemera of innocence!
So, what then?
Me, fumbling wild in the backspace you left.
Your flabbergasting key smash to freedom
broke our finespun home, you left
me to talk to your father, Child,
to renegotiate
the bonds;
reconstruct ancient code,
deleted excess text -
obfuscating precision and knowing -
the tribal tongue of lovers
unlearned, forgotten;
escaped alongside discarded baby bath suds,
strewn puddles of rubber duckies,
tired breasts suckled
by fresh management.
When they play hide and seek
And memorize your words
Watch them
When they adjust the truth
And do not know what is occurring
Smile at yourself
These,these are the revelations,
Sometimes the truth
Is not spoken
It is shown
Sometimes the lies
Are not shown
They are spoken
Distinguish the individuals,
When they play hide and seek
And imitate your words
See them
When they reconstruct the truth
And do not know what to hide
Be proud of yourself
These,these have been written.
Weird world evolves,
Weird creatures
Wired to gadgets
Evolve.
They articulate
And gesticulate.
They giggle
And tread
On the trajectories of living.
Their brains brim
With artificial intelligence,
They act like humans.
They are
The artificial humans.
Technology savvy humans
Reconstruct our humanity,
The religionists
Resign to the new humanity,
The ethicists
Seek to etch
Unethical on our minds.
The elasticity of our civilization
Stretches
And stretches,
Our civilization overstretched.
Years to come,
Our civilization
Overstretched,
Will snap.
When you fall on the Table Mountain
You gather your thoughts
Amazing it was
When the rain washes the sorrows
You pick yourself up
Incredible it is
It left a mark,
The pouring of the rain
Showed what was meant to happen
I could have known
The rising of the sun
Showed what had happened
I knew
The anticipated tattoo,
When you fall on the Table Mountain
You count your blessings
Mesmerizing it was
When the rain washes the tears
You reconstruct yourself
Hilarious it is
It left a mark
I am...
quintessential optimism;
the rainbow you see
after the rain is gone.
I am...
order amid the chaos;
l reconstruct
life's crumbled foundation.
I am...
beauty in ugliness;
don't avert your eyes!
I am...
a celestial messenger,
so prick up your ears.
I'm asking you
to choose faith over fear;
things aren't as bad as they seem.
I'm asking you
to walk out on darkness,
to me, the light.
I'm asking you
to believe in dreams;
they are real and true.
I'm asking you
to look to the sky
when you're lost;
I am your North star.
David Bowie sang
a song about me;
yes, you guessed it
I am...
Starman,
but, I'm also...
guess who?
Ignorance is a lie;
A construct of entitlement.
Separation is a lie;
A construct of inflated ego.
Hatred is a lie;
A construct of self-directed loathing.
Powerlessness is a lie;
A construct of apathy.
Racism is a lie;
a construct of ignorance.
Entitlement is a lie
A construct of degradation.
Death is a lie;
A construct of embedded fear.
Poverty is a lie;
A construct of perverted power.
Dominance is a lie;
A construct of perversion.
Construct: A complex image or idea formed
of a number of simpler images or ideas.
Reconstruct: rebuild from the ground up.
Thoughts are things, and words have power to transform;
A construct of enlightenment.
Chula Fleming© 11/16/2017
Change, watchword of our time
Change without reason, capricious crime
Reform, reconstruct, recast, revise
Change for change-sake – foolish, unwise
Alter, adjust, adapt, amend
Constant change blurs to no end
Transform, transmute, transfigure
Change, all jolts and jarring triggers
Change, our brains from our bodies derange
Change, our souls from the cosmos estrange
Humming just like an electric daisy
a cloudless sky filled with high voltage;
The underlying sound calms my crazy;
Smoke from the trains rather hazy
zoom zoom on elevated wattage;
Humming just like an electric daisy;
It’s like the song was made just for me,
listening to music scented with sage;
The underlying sound calms my crazy;
Biological senses reconstruct reality,
you escape your body’s weak cage;
Humming just like an electric daisy;
Creating art out of mental debris
motivated by eliminating carnage;
The underlying sound calms my crazy;
Inner peace so prevalent lately
some may say I rely on a mirage;
Humming just like an electric daisy,
the underlying sound calms my crazy.
Is it to be inlove
Open your heart
To possibilities
Is it to be yourself
Open your mind
To the comfort of knowing
The truth,
Shall it come?
As it suppose to come
Wait for it
Would it navigate?
As expected
Reconstruct it
To the full,
Is it to be matured
Let go
And growth take it place
Is it to be intelligent
Let go
And knowledge lead the way
To the promise
When I dream
of seeing myself on the New Earth
I feel at home with the Lord
always the feeling joy, peace and tranquility
through the golden city of twelve pearly gates
no longer will I need to wear my glasses
no longer will I have to suffer from sinuses
menstrual cycles or neurotic disorders
because the father will reconstruct my body and soul
I dream of my face and hair
appearing as radiant as emeralds in the sunlight
no cover ups, filters, perms or dyes
more elegant than my mundane flesh
or even a gazelle wandering the fields
I will even wear brand new clothes
no jeans, t-shirts or flip flops
but an unspoiled gown of white fabric
more superior than
gleaming sapphires and rubies
mirroring those at the Transfiguration of Jesus
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