Show me just how you drive that truck.
Is it real fast or do you take your time?
As they say in the sticks let’s get stuck.
I’m looking for you to feel my rhyme,
let’s play with experimental chemistry.
All that combustion could be sublime.
It’s impossible to let the elements be,
when they are determined to connect.
The periodic table covers you and me.
Overheated now leave me, I’m wrecked.
Shouldn’t have left the motor unchecked.
Each year, for seven days, it sat upon the shelf
between the silver candle and the season's elf;
It's once glorious value now a faded red
labeled so with speckled stains from bitter tears shed.
For forty years, more, her ritual has been thus;
a once vivacious thing who's clearly missed the bus.
It was the giver, not the gift, she should enjoy
the god of beauty and desire, Aphrodite's boy.
On promise made, she gave him all, her everything,
then came the hour he sent this red box wrapped with string.
She would walk past the box, occasionally smile;
cradle in her arms, rock like a baby for a while.
Up till the moment that the Gin took its effect,
and then, the bitterness and bile let loose unchecked
wild-eyed anger, spittled lips screaming out profanes.
Doesn't know what's in the box but knows what it contains;
loss of trust, loss of faith, and loss of all desire,
all thrown upon her vanity's funeral pyre.
She'll put away the gift until she needs a fix
of wallowing self-loathing from her box of tricks.
Another day,
Another death,
Another tear,
as I take another breath
Steady wondering if I'll be next
So much loss
only memories left
Each time hurts less & less
Disgusted with who I've become
almost out of self respect
Filthy & scarred up
sweat & dirt on my neck
Knowing Ima wind up alone
but what else can I expect
I'm fckng stressed!!!
Arms & hands just fckd
from all the drugs
I continue to inject
Ima fckng reject
I made myself this way
stay tryna disconnect
Got way too many memorial cards
I already had to collect
It's like my mind & soul
are so wrecked
Wish I could js relax & reflect
But my heart objects & stays unchecked
As I steady neglect & infect
my once pure soul
That now has this nonstop decaying hole
Everything feels so.. damn.. cold..
This fckng existence is so damn old
I don't know how to get a hold
And stop this chaotic painful misery
As it rapidly unfolds
Why am I so scared to be alone?
Already lost almost every single soul that was close
..I shoulda known
It was so clearly shown
I js couldnt get it thru my thick fckng dome
That this reality im in
Never was and never could be home
In halls where voices rise and fall,
Let kindness be the thread through all,
Not every clash must end in fire—
True strength is found when hearts aspire
To listen more than they defend.
The elder's pause, the child’s gaze,
Each holds a truth, a sacred phrase.
Although paths diverge, we may still meet.
On common ground where minds are sweet
With patience and the will to bend.
No throne is built by scorn or pride,
But towers fall when rage’s tide.
It is loosed unchecked. The wiser art
Is forging peace from a fractured part,
And seeing oneself in a stranger's face
Respect is not a coin to trade,
Nor merely manners on parade.
It springs from knowing each has worth—
A soul, a name, a place on earth—
Deserving of a gentler space.
So let us sow what we would reap:
A voice that heals, a vow to keep.
Though storms may howl and tempers flare,
The path of grace is always there—
A road that rises when we dare.
Body and Mind give way to the Heart and Soul.
They let the emotions take over yet remain in control.
Passion and sentiment now replace logic and reason.
Interchanging ever so slightly- as if from season to season.
Feelings flow freely, replacing all thought.
Emotions running wild without fear of being fought.
The Mind sits back and takes no part,
letting all decisions be made by the Heart.
And throughout the Body the Soul can now freely flow.
With the Heart now in control the Body can only follow.
As the Soul controls the actions revealing it's glow.
Every decision now based on "I feel" not "I think" or "I know"
Emotions unchecked by the Mind, the Heart's desires continue to grow,
and with the help of the Soul will continue to do so.
The Heart and Soul move slowly but soon control All.
This is what takes place when, in Love we fall.
The world wants a scapegoat with stretch marks.
Wants to pin every broken bone
on a bedtime whisper.
Traces every dagger to cradles
It wants the mother to answer
if the blade was breastfed?
Demands the father to confess
to planting knives in the crib.
Now every crime is a family tree.
Every bruise a genealogy.
The world has amputated memory.
It forgets that even a prophet
couldn’t teach his sons
how to lose without bleeding.
It forgets that even love
can rot in the nest
if the world salts it early.
That envy learns to walk by limping,
that unchecked want becomes wildfire.
So, the world names the scar a prophecy,
and still blames the womb for the war.
A ship requires a captain, and a rudder
uncharted seas - courage, and a shudder
Picking up speed, egos unchecked
tempt fate, shipwreck
Science
has brought
us closer
to the edge of our oblivion
Nuclear fission
angel dust
processed foods
and smog
Two steps forward
ten steps back
ennobling every dirty fact
as children choke and cry
There’s one award
the Swede’s leave out
that’s missing
on their dais
The Nobel Prize
for mass destruction
as progress masquerades
— unchecked
(Sweden: May, 2008)
Contemplating as a thinker thinking,
self-appraising rate of our vibration,
we dwell not in awareness unblinking
but ego distanced from God’s creation.
It’s not about knowing but becoming,
whilst resting in tranquil, blissful repose,
synced with the gong of Om within drumming,
witnessing how we so metamorphose.
If we see God as another object,
flawed and deluded is our perception
but with ego dropped, bliss rising unchecked,
one with oneness, we evade deception.
Melding with the energy field itself,
beyond space-time we transform as the Self.
Nine months after October 6, 1973
PM Golda Meir of Israel was history
For an intelligence failure colossal
She became a political fossil…
Fast forward to October 7, 2023
When Hamas went on a barbaric spree
Killing more Jews than any day since the Holocaust ended
Yet PM ‘Bibi’ Netanyahu’s had his term extended
Where is the leader to end Bibi’s reign
~ flush him and his generals down yesterday's drain
__________________________________________________
On October 6, 1973, Egyptian pontoons crossed the Suez Canal
into Israeli-held Sinai, unchecked by Israeli forces, a colossal
intelligence failure on the part of Israel's military. Prime Minister
(PM) Golda Meir and Defense Minister Moshe Dayan were sacked
nine months later---despite being heroes to much of Israel's
populace.
Attached to outcomes, ego opaques light,
radiance of our true Self, veiled by mind,
demons of darkness, shrouding heart’s delight,
thought tentacles gripping us in their bind.
As both tormentor and the tormented,
being both the subject and the object,
we inhaled fragrance of love, bliss scented,
causing boundless rapture to rise unchecked.
Waking up in the dream by slowing thought,
with ego exhumed, bliss beats soon resumed,
whence soul imbibed love and light as it ought,
whereupon at our core, heart lotus bloomed.
Thought cessation, path to heart’s elation ~
In time stretched peace, is our meditation
I think that if I could have wearable tech
it might be a vest that inflates in a wreck.
Perhaps a decoder of lyrics by Beck,
or one that converts between gallons and pecks?
Or lets me run wild in the ship’s holodeck.
But I am afraid if I am circumspect,
it is I that this tech likely tries to inspect,
to direct my actions, make me genuflect.
Big brother, who watches, with powers unchecked!
So with due politeness and all due respect,
This wearable tech is a watch I reject.
When no division remains
and our soul is free from stains,
everything that is beheld,
is within consciousness held.
The pulse of life in space-time,
echoes chords of love’s bliss chime,
wherein as boundaries blur,
dormant nodes begin to stir.
As both subject and object,
magnetism rises unchecked,
held firm at a stillness point,
where light of Self we anoint.
Ascension by cessation
here in body play station,
the way we metamorphose,
gently in blissful repose.
Though ego cravings are shorn,
life as impulsed still flows on,
unfolding in slow motion,
beheld without commotion.
As both dreamer and dreamed,
bliss strobes are from our heart beamed,
mood and mode celebration,
as our soul’s meditation.
Meir Kahane, a visionary, warned us all
Yet far too few heeded his call
Labeled a ‘firebrand’ by all the elites
His message understood by his enemies in the street
He told the West, calmly, what it didn’t want to hear
that Jew-haters' terror would soon have it quaking with fear
And Kahane warned Israel, to have a viable Jewish state
its Arab populace could not be allowed to spew terror and hate
But Israeli liberals said Kahane was ‘racist,’ exiled him to New York city
where a Jew-hater gunned him down in ‘90, a shame and a pity
For now most Israelis see that Kahane was right
terror unchecked has turned the world’s day into night
In halls where voices rise and fall,
Let kindness be the thread through all,
Not every clash must end in fire—
True strength is found when hearts aspire
To listen more than they defend.
The elder's pause, the child’s gaze,
Each holds a truth, a sacred phrase.
Though paths diverge, we still may meet
On common ground where minds are sweet
With patience, and the will to bend.
No throne is built by scorn or pride,
But towers fall when rage’s tide
Is loosed unchecked. The wiser art
Is forging peace from fractured part,
. And seeing self in stranger's face
Respect is not a coin to trade,
Nor merely manners on parade.
It springs from knowing each has worth—
A soul, a name, a place on earth—
Deserving of a gentler space.
So let us sow what we would reap:
A voice that heals, a vow to keep.
Though storms may howl and tempers flare,
The path of grace is always there—
A road that rises when we dare.
Author: Floyd Neal
Date: May 2, 2025
Inspiration: Praying for Grace
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