Short Pretences Poems

There must be a man with some senses!
Who has no need for any kind of pretences!
Who preaches peace,
Wants all wars to cease.
Some borders maybe, but not any fences!...

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I’m no god nor beast
I can’t live alone

can’t sail with the stream
even if foolish

seeking chimeras
imploring in vain

finished relations
link pigs, snakes, monkeys

crowd the pretences
in my head suspend

all formulations
now no more cleansing

spirit viruses
and false oracles...

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You listen but you do not hear
The sound of love changing gear
You look but you do not see,
That special love close to thee
You touch but you do not feel
A love so deep never to heal
You do not savour, though you taste
The meal of love goes to waste
To find real love with no pretences
With your heart combine your senses...

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Today we rise.

No more hiding in the shadows,

of culture,
creed,
tradition.

No more silent complicity,

defensive arguments,
sickening pretences,
shabby excuses,

for the actions of men,

brutal and coarse and vulgar and obscene and murderous and abusive.

Today, we rise,

as one.

Today the change starts,

with me,
within me.

Today we rise....

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"you may say I'm emotionally misplaced,
But why show true feelings,
When it's thrown back into my teary face,
With flat out rejections,
Having no expectation guarded as a person alone I walk,
Talking of not too much,
Realising now I don't need,
Live in any pretence,
Happy here to sit on the fence,
True beauty without pretences."

-Ds-

Copyright © Daniel Stafford | 03/01/2016...

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Twas a dream
She said,’ one must always wonder, contemplate, dream,’
For dreams are made of woven silk, 
endless desires, and conscious pretences.
From this bounty of treasure,
I carry the one that befits me!
Hurry along! For it awaits. Yes, the thief!
Capturing my beloved, plunging me into the abyss,
Once again,
I tell myself...’twas a dream…
Let us dream again, tomorrow. 
(Ashyy)...

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Its a problem.
Solve it!
Your mother, My father
Your sister, My brother
How can I explain?
Came from the same
Old bondage, new blood
Many religions, one god
IT took us oh so long
Let it be understood

Elusions, delusions, despair
Caught up, thrust up
The fear
Upward mobility
And the downward spiral
Of the electric chair
Stretchered in a hearse
Legless, lifeless, listless
Waste
           No pretences
                                 lifes pace....

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My heart is not a poem, you may come
And sit awhile apart from the drowsy day
And measure in silence the sweet sum
Of all I am to him in him when I pray

My heart is not a poem, do not read
My lips for syllables sly in sentences
That ever mask our inherent need
It's too naked for pride and pretences.

My heart is not a poem, I'm a man
Simple in form and capable only of love
When you come, bring not a plan
But come to give freedom to this dove....

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Life is full of surprizes, we are not surprised at all;

to church on a sunny summer morn at Petertide, 

to be shocked that the great and good of the borough

were there for the annual mayor's service, all well and good

except expecting the annual service for that most obstreperous of fishers, 

Peter the coward turned faulty Prince of the Apostles - and his rival-friend  Paul.


What does it matter? Their purpose: to shock the world to save it - then as now....

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