The Beauty of the Heavens is that God
Hath claimed us for Himself in Holy Robes...
And given us our Paths that walking, broad
And narrow we, by Words, may span the globe.
There is no other necessity than Him,
Than Her, and Her sweet Will, there is no need
Because our way is lit with fire, no dim
Confusion forces us to go with speed...
Who, then, needs wonder where High Way will end?
God hath provided Hopes and Trials Along
The Mountain Trail of rocks -- whisht! With a friend
The price is only steps, the cost, a song!
We need not bind our days in fearsome fetter
But only hope at end we will breathe better!
Shadows of unfulfilled fate
On the wall of my mind
Hugely drawn, awaken my spirit
On foamy bed, wild and soft
Lost in hush soliloquize, I lay
Stomach plastered to the earth,
As I watch the crave for breathe
Of mummies living in the home
Build six feet below earth surface
With no response to their thunderous scream
And my ears deaden
By the whispers of whisht
Breaking the border of gloom
While in vain struggle for rebirth.
Despite the dread encompassing every step,
I stroll down the quiet dark street
Of my thought without second thought.
It’s a quiet place,
Like a yard of graves
Filled with a thousand tenants
In horrible camouflage, all but dumb.
Well they done took away ma pension
whilst I waren’t payin no tention.
Never thought thet thar could happen,
Seems ma face they keep a slappin'.
Ah trusted all them folk thet said ah could,
ah took their word like they sed ah should,
but now ah see they jest a bunch a thieves,
Take all ya got and knock ya to yer knees.
Use ta was be you could tell a liar,
plain’s ya could the town crier,
Now they got sneakier ways,
from lots a practice these days.
Them banks and the government’s in cahoots.
Reckon they standin’ in each others boots.
Whisht ah’d a knowed they wuz gonna play those games
Ah’d a set much lower aims.. maybe like …Jesse James.
Done asked a lawyer onced bout business and ethics.
He laughed and said “Bob, business and ethics don’t mix!”
Never heered anybody say that right out loud…
Still laughin’ at me,.. he walked away proud.
Yep, maybe I’d a set much lower aims…
Reckon I’d a understood… Jesse James.
Whisht! They are sleeping
Have no fear, have no scull
In a juggling sea ,rowing
Like her hairs, life is also curl
Oh hermit! Took them to their shrine
No not to mosque, lead them to vault
Where might an idol give them some wine
Never hesitate, its virtue not fault
They are not sinner, they are forlorn
Be happy you love to an unseen God
See Him and lost ,then you are lovelorn
Like, who worshiped to their beautiful lord
They do love to their beloved to win hell
You do love to God to win a heaven
And living to listen the ringing of paradise’s bell
But they can kill themselves on her smell
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