Each longs to obtain
fifteen minutes of fame.
Pawns in play,
simpleton on display.
Farcical amusement
from slapstick humans.
Spectacles in a petri dish,
slaves to their lavishments.
Analyzed and watched—
spare no expense… at what cost?
A muse for their “entertainment,”
to be the fodder at their "banquet."
Plans to steal, kill, and destroy—
bartering your soul to deploy.
Creating the pandemonium;
whence comes regurgitated solutions?
Governed by the unseen legion,
sheeple blinded by fabricated freedom.
That fifteen minutes of wantingness
now seeks solitude… and will find none.
The other day I overheard
one alien say to another
The Pope would opt for peace on earth
if he had his druthers
So, in his Easter address to the planet’s nations
he’d be wise to advise ~ every earthling’s deportation
Not til we've forsworn its fret
And from off its whirl seen jumped
Greed's rage, underpinning
Heads, with its show, on and on
Will as mad be spinning.
As you've now! Accordingly
If more senseless, made to feel
While still feeling nauseous
With eyes, to proper adjust
But left with; see through us!
The vigor of youth
drains from the arteries
seeps from the veins
leaves on an other-worldly train
On the deserted platform
waves a shrinking figure
blowing tears into a handkerchief
waiting for the final trigger
This world illudes us
Like a mirage enticing;
Still, we cling to it.
If the world is going to hell in a handbasket,
'Who's holding the handle?'
is the real question, and I have to ask it.
Also, I wonder how well the world would function
if all corruption were removed at this junction.
Destroy despotism, no more nepotism,
do away with liars, fakers, thieves, heartbreakers,
abolish pundits, politicians, priests, on-the-takers.
If we eliminate crime, cigarettes, drugs and insanity,
so those evils become a thing of the past,
a change for the better could restore humanity,
but how long would it last?
We'll never know, as little is learned from history,
and why that's so is still a mystery.
In the beginning, there were only two,
(whether or not you believe in Adam and Eve)
it's no surprise mankind is clueless what to do
as, since then; incest, inbreeding and man's hate
has brought populations to such a terrible state,
despite those who do good, few and far between,
perhaps it's in their food, or possibly the genes.
Loud silence tends to speak in a
definitive tone
The derivatives are broken english
singing a similar song
An ape is just a copy taking a
swing for the stands
The ballpark in another league on
grounds they'll never stand
Understand over & under whenever
placing a bet
Make sure the horse you ride is one
you thoroughly vet
Backing one from the looks of things
can lead to errors in mass
Cover bases & cross your T's to avoid
L's from the past
Extra innings may be required to win
a summer of games
Falls lead to a series of sights enjoyed
by eyes of the lame
Games are played like April Fools in
days no one is playing
Not calling a shot but pointing out
what it seems no one is saying
Weighing odds against the numbers
wondering if it'll math
Even bad students can learn their
lessons though a clown in the class
Pastimes are over & done as you see
the future is here
View it from eyes of understanding
instead of how it appears
She took long strides by the seaside,
Weary and world-worried, she cried,
The waves crashed in a misty roar,
Etching frowns in a frothy hoar,
She wondered at what would betide;
The sound of guitar by her side,
Made her sigh and seem surprise-eyed,
The smell of lilacs came to fore -
She took long strides;
Afraid now, she wanted to hide,
But sudden slumber made her slide,
There she lay alone on the shore,
When she stirred, her strength did restore,
Troubles did cajole her no more,
She took long strides.
the great walking road
from Cape Town to Magadan
the Worldly longest!
a world of things
a world can’t see
to weave us what
we’ve come to be
a world we shape
quite wondrously
that world within
we’re always free.
This life can sell you dreams that are too
expensive for you to buy
Covered eyes can't see the truth as they're
being blinded by the lies
This wicked world is full of sin affecting
all from great to least
We're full of ourselves yet we're starving while
trapped in the belly of the beast
It feasts on those that are lost in this tangled
sorted maze
You find peace when you're whole within not
just at the end of days
Darkness comes and it will go as it alternates
with the light
Just know everything needs to be balanced
between the left and our right
A woman who’s worldly-wise
In men’s rooms lies belly-wise:
Watching her you choke breath-wise,
A bed six meters length-wise!
You fail to look you’re not wise:
“Please, go and meet the street-wise
To stop being rather unwise
And your eyes permit the price”
A woman for the world wise
Could your dear life make her price,
Try to with it rise and rise,
Now choosing to move clockwise,
All too soon, anticlockwise…
Member of club For True Lies,
Her needs she gets from false cries:
She’s never the penny-wise,
Not when she’s Solomon-wise
The earth is beaten hard by working boots
and baked by scorching sun in early spring
that cracked like drying skin with calloused corns.
As weeds are forked, entwined around the gate,
I prised the tendrils, pulling out their roots,
then ambered skies descended nightly slopes
and gilt the rusted rails with golden tones.
Above the crescent moon released aglow
a halo, loosely hung beyond the dark
with thorns entwined like spiral crowns in style.
A shaded figure stood. He seemed alone
but knocked for entry easing doors ajar.
Ahead a whitened path through shadows wove
a way that glimmered brightly, moonlight drenched.
A huge room not denied luxury,
The rejected in it: Misery
Of fine glass up to the bookshelf:
If one was close to it saw oneself:
The weight of a thousand Christian Books
And at what the smart owner looks;
Glasses for whisky but no whisky:
To have whisky displayed risky:
"One can't defend in a voice husky
What surely makes the keeper frisky".
His callers would sit in a cushion
Owner of the room lives for true fashion:
Man can serve Lord God and some passions
And this not prompt long quizzing sessions...
The clean-shaven in a clean cassock
He had vowed he would never forsake.
An early morning run across a misty lake
comes in, fades out of view with every stroke I take.
With pace that ebbs and flows from tunes within my head,
I hope the rhythmic rowing will not wake the dead.
I try to focus on the things that Austin taught,
but mostly, in the moment, I’m enraptured, caught
up in this misty morning ‘cross unknown expanse;
time and distance slip away in other-wordly trance…
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