Imagine…

Outward Insight

All material reality come to be
Is of most sacred substance – the good and the bad.
All is bathed in divine feminine energy.
Animated by her life force naturally,
Not a thing in the universe can make her sad
For its laws are enacted by her completely.

Powerfully erotic the energy feels.
Blissful intoxication is possible when
One taps into her flow through well-tested techniques
Practiced worldwide by gurus. The wise student seeks
Guidance and assurance from someone who has been
Through the processes many times as life reveals.

 But for we fettered lay folk by habit removed
From the effort and discipline that it would take,
The way all may gain access, the well-trained and not,
Is through imagination. The principles taught
Energize it and keep it from growing opaque
So when practiced, perfection is greatly improved.

Destructive and maternal, at once intertwined,
Goddess warrior justice is hers by default,
As she is mother nature and mother of all
That exists to behold – the immense and the small.
It’s a pleasure to have all of that to exalt.
I’m at peace with what is and how it is designed.

Team Designer

With Critical Taste

Making costumes for heroes with super powers
Is a job taken seriously yet with grace,
Which she seems to show sometimes, but not quite enough
For the ones who work with her. They think she’s too tough
On herself and on them. She takes charge of her space.
She’s the best at what she does… just as she prefers.

Talented yet demanding, her will to create
Is uncommonly focused. Her work is her pride.
Successful and eccentric, she shows some concern
For the ones that she cares for. They may then discern
A sense of her humanity somewhere inside
The well-structured persona so rigid and straight.

Heroes throughout the universe and a few gods
Are among her best clientele. Her work is known
And admired by the many who offer her praise
For her magical costumes that work well most days.
Self-assured in her brilliance, she does hold her own
In her world of excitement against all the odds.

An acclaimed Team Designer, and one of the best,
Confidence she’s acquainted with intimately.
One would not want to cross her for fear of her wrath.
Most courageous heroes wouldn’t dare cross her path.
Nothing short of perfection is what people see
In a woman with whom most others are impressed.

Clearing The Air

Revealing A Bettier View

To resolve any problems and settle the facts
Of the case between entities is to wipe clear
The imagined transparency of dirt and grime
And debris it accumulates after some time.
What is seen before cleaning consumes me in fear
That I am one of many unnatural acts.

“There will be times of tension,” my mother told me
When I was but a wee one, but I understood.
If I’m conscious, it can be used creatively.
Compromise and commitment are learned easily
If the focus directed is meant to make good
On avoidance of conflict. It’s how life should be.

The acquired open enemy’s thoughts are revealed
And give me confirmation ill feelings run deep
Among too awful many for fuzzy warm bliss.
I’ve encountered their cold. There is nothing I miss.
I do not own the sickness to feel hurt, then weep.
My Bopeep nonexistent requires no such shield.

How do I set the tone among people at large
For our safe interaction given what is known?
The answer, trite and meaningless, is to remain
As detached from ill harm as oneself can sustain.
The advantage I have is I’m happy alone.
I can deal with myself, and each one can take charge.

A Safe Path From The Past

Sole Escape Route To Survival

Bittersweet is the taste of a triple play win.
All three branches of government have become blue.
But the danger still present will not go away.
What we most have to deal with was put on display
For the world and our ugly selves. Those acts of few
That resulted in murder are graver than sin.

We know what’s at the root of the insanity
Of the disgruntled millions who want to see change
Back to Civil War times when the lives of value
Were those only of white men. The rest of us knew
To succumb to the mindset or something not strange
Like a hard public whipping is what all would see.

  We’re a nation divided. This isn’t fresh news.
But it must be accepted, examined, and owned
Lest the cycle continue on unendingly.
Hatred isn’t unique to us, but others see
How in us it is triggered and widely condoned
Easily and with vigorous will to abuse.

And thank goodness for Georgia, the state of the peach
And of powerful women who turn their defeat
Into something miraculous nationally.
It is my time to celebrate, but I must be
Cognizant of the dangers most real and concrete
Among people ensnared by the values they breach.

Natural Hero

Mutual Family Pride

The impressions of many close adults impact
Those who God made receptive. The guidance they crave
Comes from adjacent others. Parents and teachers
Are their most steady resource. This clearly confers
Upon them the term ‘hero.’ They’re looked to as brave
For how life affects them and how well they react.

 If you want your children to be a certain way,
You must be that way yourself. All parents know this.
What endears children to everyone is their joy
And unfettered exuberance. Each girl and boy
Is a master performer in natural bliss
If indeed this is what those around them portray.

You must be far more joyful and exuberant
Than your children are, since this is what attracts them.
If they see us primarily pissed and stressed out
They’ll conclude life is that way. Why would they have doubt?
 It’s not you but it’s life you teach them to condemn.
Some of us can be heroes, but some of us can’t.

Why would children have anything to do with me
If I did nothing but find a way to complain?
I must represent life because that’s what they are.
If you’re not quite the hero but not very far,
Just remember they’re not into sorrow or pain.
Take a tip from a lowlife of society.

Flight Into Transformation

Marching Through Anticipation

Capable of profound transformation and growth,
This most sensitive creature is cleaver and wise.
Dangers that are of nature, like menacing birds,
He will mitigate not with the power of words,
But with elegant trickery. And for his size,
He’ll engage his opponents and make fools of both.

One must be self-sufficient in eager pursuit
Of the path one must follow to its rightful end.
We need not be aggressive. A sense of humor
And a conscious awareness are parcel and core
And sufficient for living ‘til time to ascend
To the height of our being our most resolute.

A harmless caterpillar is one protected
By its own self-defenses until it can fly.
On the way there’s a big change that has to take place.
It will do that with honor – never in disgrace.
Does it know that some day it will take to the sky?
Or does only the next moment lie just ahead?

Outmaneuvering obstacles scattered my way
With creative endurance is worthwhile advice.
So I take it in earnest, record in delight,
And end this perfect day with these words that I write.
Waking up as a butterfly, is but the price
That I’d pay for the start of another fine day.

Home Is Where The Toilet Is

Hearth Of The Waste

When the bowels need to move there’s no solace like home.
Anywhere else but there is profusely obscene.
Public places provided for people at large
Are a blessing. They help anyone to take charge
Of the business of flushing the full colon clean.
When the call comes, you don’t want a forest to roam.

But at home is the perfect place and much preferred
By most humans. It’s simply a matter of taste.
For some creatures the great halls of congress are fine.
Only those like them would call their actions benign.
Animals of this nature who speak with their waste
Reenact racist sentiment and without word.

I keep my shit in one place. It isn’t out there
Where the public may smell it. It’s not that I’m shy.
There’s no place like the toilet for madness and hate.
If folks did this in private their shit would be straight.
If they call themselves human then one must ask why
They see life from the toilet and don’t seem to care.

 Where the heart is is home. I know that beyond doubt.
Like my home and most others’, it’s where love is born.
And from there it is nurtured so that people grow
To certain understandings. Some acts are below
Those of civilized humans, and only forewarn  
Of the odor among all with feces to tout.

That Self…

The Ultimate Frontier

The true self and its searching for makes for the mind
Wasted time better spent working out the details
Of the fake self’s insistence that it is for real.
Is the human condition a thing I can feel?
Does my alienation from all that prevails
Give my soul ample reason to shun the unkind?

To That self which one truly is… life undefined
Is the best starting off point for rational thought.
Schemes and crafted abstractions can separate more
Life from its full experience. There is no door
Between true self and all else, so when it is sought
Effortlessly its finding is righteously kind.

Freedom does have a dizziness. Angst and upset
Are the highlights of living where now billions roam.
Consciousness of one’s being and all this entails,
Not adhering to structure that often times fails,
Is the thing of importance. That self is my home
So I must be at one there, but I’m not there yet.

Life comes not with a manual, but there are ways
That I can accept guidance as it all takes place.
Ever searching for my place in all that exists
As the life force and presence throughout me insists,
Meaning touches my being but does not embrace
Anything of my true self immune to malaise.

The Chant

Natural Rythms

The pure sound is superior to spoken word.
If I touch but the word, I touch only meaning.
But to contact creation, the unfettered voice
Is one method approved of by popular choice.
An alignment transformative chanting will bring.
A relaxed and refreshed state is greatly preferred.

Giving meaning to everything, verbal software
Floods the mind – the fine fuel pump of rational thought –
With too much information of value only
To the abstracted ego. The not side of me
Benefits from no meaning much more than a lot.
Words have their place but often the mind they ensnare.

The essence of creation is what is called sound.
It has no other meaning than that it exists.
The blueprint of creation is contained within
And throughout all the universe. All are akin
To the basic vibration which surely consists
Of all that is perceivable everywhere found.

There’s no meaning in meaning. The sense that I make
Of the sounds that surround me is simply not real.
The vibration is heard and felt. It offers peace
To myself, and it is but the proper release
Of whatever tension the ego may conceal.
Beneficial it is for feeling more awake.

An Inspiring Race

Affirmation In Unison

Strong attachments to others connects them to all
Citizens of the universe. Easily thrilled
By successes of others as well as their own,
They make friends with a passion. Their power is shown
To be that of their spirit wherein they’re fulfilled.
They are big-hearted creatures in packages small.

Their apparent reality, though incomplete,
They interpret excitedly in ways unique.
Cherishing new experiences, they profess
Adventure throughout galaxies. That is unless
The claw god that they worship and in hope they seek
Does not grant them salvation. Yet they stay upbeat.

Out-of-this-world commitment to lending a hand,
They transcend common virtue and blocks of the kind
That prevent loving kindness to enter the heart.
With expressive devotion they each play a part
In the process of healing what has been maligned
Through the rigor of getting the mind to expand.

Socially oriented and naturally
Telepathic, the peace that they offer is real
To the senses and psyche. The joy that they know
Sanctifies every lifeform wherever they go.
They Exist, so there’s reason for their great appeal.
Reflective curiosity satisfies me.

One Thing

Unfettered Focus

Concentrating on One Thing is all I need do
Then all else will be handled without my concern.
I can trust that it works, as I’ve done this before.
Blissfully I’ll continue to feel even more
The seduction of pleasure my soul doth discern
Through the magical mist with abundance of hue.

The One Thing I must focus on is how I feel.
I need not get specific… at least for right now.
Simply thinking of nice things that elevate me
Gives sufficient momentum to keep me happy.
From an ecstatic state I am free to allow
Dreams and wishes to manifest and become real.

Each arousal of spirit within me invites
Clarity and alignment to wash over me.
Let the true self in nudity gently partake
Of the pleasure that only surrender can make.
May my fears about failure leave me completely
And my spirit ascend to most ultimate heights.

One Thing safe to rely on when feeling strong need,
Or the lack of some wanted thing, is to adjust
My emotional setpoint to a frequency
That ensures I’m attracting what’s most right for me.
Getting intimate with the true self requires trust
That the consummate union can only succeed.

In The Interest Of Service

The Habitual Being

The trustworthy old gentleman practiced and sure
Is an asset most treasured by the family.
When the Madame requires him to write up a will
He’ll rely on his expertise and awesome skill
To provide what is needed most desperately.
She is lucky to have found someone who’s mature.

Both discrete and provocative, odd are his ways
Of conducting most business. His good memory
And attention to detail are masterful tools.
Not committed to following all of the rules,
He commands a uniqueness others clearly see.
His professional nature is worthy of praise.

Blessed with able longevity and a kind heart,
Not a task he surrenders to feelings of lack.
Staying forever young both in heart and in mind
And without conscious effort means that he’s refined
So he will not engage with people talking smack.
It’s a waste of his time because they’re not as smart.

Competent as a lawyer, he knows that laughter
And a fun-loving attitude go a long way
In maintaining commitment that brilliantly shines
Through the cracks of establishment and redefines
The way work can get done so there’s more time to play
In the way nature meant and how he would prefer.

The Not Civil Cold War

Eternity of the Feud

We’ll go off and do our own thing. We don’t need you!
Monarchy is a menace. We don’t want a king
Or a queen to rule over us. We Declare War.
Virgin land we will conquer. Our will to explore
We inherited from you, and now it will bring
What we’ll call a new nation. The time has come due.

But we’ve taken you with us along with some things
To make us look inclusive and of open heart
As the ones used as tools by the sweat of their backs
Build the wealth of our nation that we may relax.
And because they’re not like us, we must say apart.
Is this not the behavior of rich queens and kings?

It has taken a short time for us to evolve
To the point where dissension among us is felt
With regard to ‘the other’ who must be maintained
As our psychic scapegoat. And it must be restrained
Lest the ice in our reddish blue blood starts to melt
Which becomes then a catastrophe to resolve.

Civil War is a coldness declared in duress
By the now needy nation whose face the world sees
As grotesqueness united in having no shame.
What is human about us cannot make us tame.
Our bone-chilling behavior does make the heart freeze.
It’s too cold to be hell. Can I feel any less?

The Magnetic State

The Mood of Attraction

I can’t be a mixed bag of conflicting desires
If I want to get something that I’m striving for.
Intermixing of scattered vibrations only
Make an energy field that’s as weak as can be.
When I focus intently it can bring me more
Than an iron core embraced by a few layers of wires.

So this Law of Attraction, as I understand,
Is an infinite vortex that processes all
The requests that are made, whether foolish or wise,
Of we creatures on earth. What this clearly implies
Is that what happens to me is truly my call.
Consciousness, by free will, will contract or expand.

Tuning to a high frequency in how I feel
Puts me in just the right place where I can attract
What I want most. Deliberately I create
What comes into my life. Nothing happens by fate.
Vagueness doesn’t quite get it. I must be exact
In my most conscious asking. Then it becomes real.

 This is not how things are now. More practice I need…
But why not put some words down? It gives them some strength.
They become a reminder to prod me along
The life path that I tread having done right and wrong
By alignment or not with a righteous wavelength.
Perfection within progress is how I’ll proceed.

Heroic Justice

Regaining Self-Respect

Loyalties, though conflicting, won’t chase him away.
He will stay and face consequences without fear.
Arising above dark situations, he shows
His heroic commitment. Most everyone knows
He is ardent and playful with those who are dear.
With devotion through peril he does save the day.

 Somewhat crude and aggressive, his challenges are
Gruff but with certain innocence, therefore benign.
Cockiness is an issue. He likes to show off
His fine physical skills to which others may scoff.
The diamond in the making now rough will be fine
Because good times and laughter do make him a star.

Striving hard to please others, he shows little shame.
When his mother is present he is submissive
Which provides healthy balance to his rougher side.
His fate he must determine with courage and pride.
Habits of rude behavior are hard to forgive
Unless there’s a good chance that his nature will tame.

What it takes is a lioness to round him out
And evoke the compassion and deepness of heart
Of the beast of the badlands. Homecoming is sweet
Among those who once scorned him. Now they warmly greet
He who is one of their own. It is a fresh start
To an ongoing story. There is little doubt.

Powerful Words

Verbal Music

Like a fine-tuned piano, that with which I speak
In melodic indifference sounds no alarm
Nor does it seek acceptance outside of free will.
Sometimes harsh in disharmony, it can be shrill.
Powerful are the words whose intent is to charm
And uplift phantom ones with aesthetic mystique.

The perceptions and feelings of folks about me
Are not really about me. When this is made clear,
Then I can keep on playing as ever before
With the freedom we each have to share evermore
With the colorful orchestra. Damned be my fear
Of insult and rejection! That’s how it must be.

If my point of attraction is set well below
What is needed so things that I do will succeed,
Then my focus on vibrating higher is prime
Otherwise all my words are a big waste of time.
Among fellow musicians I feel not the need
For engaging in discordant cheap audio.

Words of transforming power we each have to share.
That we all may be heard is a dream unfulfilled
As long as fear befuddles the will to forge on
‘Til the instrument’s life force is completely gone.
Opinions from the anus about how one’s skilled
Are not part of the language of people who care.

Princess Waterfawn

The Antidistressant

A petite, plucky princess, she is self-assured
With her magical powers. She knows her own worth
Which she stands up for fearlessly. Feisty is she
When confronting dismissiveness. Confidently
She will face any danger with curious mirth
And make light of the suffering she has endured.

Eilonwy is one hell of a name for a child
Anywhere else but her land where oddness of name
Is something to be proud of. She does have respect
And will work alongside others. She’ll not neglect
Dreams and feelings of others. She knows she’s the same
Magic stardust programmed and uniquely compiled.

Despite her strong-willed nature, affection she shows
After some confrontation. Emotional play
Is a part of her magic which she uses well
To dispel hidden places where darkness may dwell.
Honesty and resourcefulness throughout each day
Is protection from what lies within dark shadows.

Not apparently addled is she at the core
Which proves some first impressions are hastily made.
Capable with her intellect, balanced she knows
So that it and her feelings she can juxtapose
As she needs for each circumstance carefully weighed
In the light of her presence that none can ignore.

Sit… Rest… Don’t Worry….

The Illusion of Aloneness

Broken is my awareness of gut level doubt.
No solution appropriate for what is true
Manifests to restore me. So uncertainty
I can’t see my way through. This does not have to be
A conundrum of conscience. What then can I do
But surrender and then find a way to chill out?

Spending time doing noting is good for the soul.
In the mundane existence the things that are done
Are without much awareness of being alive.
If this isn’t felt often, the life I deprive
In each moment I will regret in the long run.
I’m alive, but to feel that can make me more whole.

Life itself is miraculous if I can see
Past my hard blue constructions and simply give in
To the flow of eternity where I belong.
Outside I appear weak, but inside I am strong
In most subtle observance of essence within.
I could worry, but life still must happen to me.

Take a deep breath, relax with the torso and head
In alignment, and cherish what is given all
For an hourglass while to live out with free will
To be frantic the whole time or learn to sit still.
Cultivation of honor for things that seem small
Keeps me conscious perhaps of all the living dead.

What Is This?

The Unanswerable Question

What is being looked at right now by anyone
Here by their own volition and not randomly
(To whom I owe all gratitude… Don’t get me wrong),
Is produced purposely not to try to belong
But to faithfully express what’s inside of me.
Urgency is not futile as this work is done.

Coming mostly from spirit through mind and by hand,
Over cracks in parched parchment unfurled for review,
Percolation of syllables is energy
Strong enough for radiating effectively
What pure spirit intended for many or few.
What This Is Is Not Difficult To Understand.

Things expressed in the passive voice show reluctance
To speak with affirmation and ample value.
Confidence takes a beating. The unbeaten path
Is less cruel than most others. The danger of wrath
At the hands of you reading is possible too.
In that case, I’m accustomed to the circumstance.

It’s preferred that what this is is something worthwhile
That may keep the mind flexible and open to
Different ways of looking at everything known
To the rich human psyche. And what here is shown
Is a piece of the puzzle. No thought about who
Is providing this content is outright denial!

One Thing At A Time

Stay Out of a Knot

Something deeper can be felt in all that I do.
Simultaneous tasking is not the best way
To align with my spirit. Though getting things done
Is the work I must do so that I may have fun,
When I focus on one thing I cannot betray
Consciousness of the now moment sacred and true.

I hate doing the laundry when I’m not aware
Of the process of living and being at one
With sublime ever presence. When I am awake
To my pureness of being, wisely do I take
Every moment attentive to newness begun
Within little things noticed otherwise not there.

Attention is most powerful. It can infuse
Things with my conscious essence and energy field.
Little things done with spirit attuned to the now
Bring deeper understanding. The time I allow
Presence into the process, the treasure revealed
Is worth all of the trouble. And I cannot lose.

The destructive obsessions that occupy me
Are functions of the ego in its restless state.
Its seduction implying I’m bored is to laugh
In its face. It would make a candid photograph
Of free will at its freest to freely feel great
Through benign rigors mundane and necessary.

The Advantage Of New Surroundings

The Perpetual Management of Spring

My surroundings familiar satisfy me
But sometimes I’ve the urge to see different things…
Not that I’m steeped in boredom and must get away.
Often a change of scenery brightens my day
And refreshes my outlook. Easily it brings
A new sense of wellbeing that sets the soul free.

A profound opportunity at my avail
For the practice of presence in place of the mind
I shall take as it’s offered, for it is a gift
From oneself to oneself with intent to uplift
The pure essence of each with true self intertwined
In a manifold matrix of soulful detail.

Where I go and what I see in daily routine
Become sensory data the body ignores
For the most part because it knows what to expect.
It is normal for senses to flatly reject
Input from the environment. Closed are its doors
To the meaning of presence. It’s just a machine.

People feel more alive when they travel from home.
When it’s not all that feasible then delve into
An obsession magnificent dear to the heart.
Anything done in presence gives life a kick start.
Pay attention to everything that you may do
And allow the true self all the freedom to roam.

Wisdom Of The Deep

Underworldly Knowedge

To gain underworld access one has to go deep
Where the many mercreatures dwell under the rule
Of a heart-centered leader – parental and strong.
Overly protective he gets if things go wrong.
There will not be a first time that he’s made a fool.
He knows what lack of focus in judgment will reap.

Way down there, there is wisdom that generates peace
That the underworld family thrives as one whole
With complete understanding that all must be well.
Ocean currents comingle and cast the same spell
Of aquatic enrichment. He whom all extol
Is responsible for inner demons’ release.

The domain of the deep sea hold secrets untold.
Therefore, upright land beings through magic create
Fantasy for fulfillment of something unknown
To the conscious awareness and will to condone.
His contempt for we humans is not one of fate.
He relies on his magical trident of gold.

Interestingly King Triton is a nice guy.
Sensitive and affectionate sometimes is he
When he lets down the crown and relaxes his groove.
Among those he adores he has nothing to prove.
Sharing wisdom among folk, he then lets them be
In the bliss of their freedom to give life a try.

Google It!

You Know the Answer

If you know how to Google, perhaps you’ve become
Quite acquainted with nonsense and childish affairs.
That’s ok. Just enjoy it. To Google is fun!
If your mind is too lazy, still work can get done.
Everyone relies on it in stark unawares
That the virtual genie will render them dumb.

Google It if you have to. Why waste energy
Using what God has given you? You need it fast
Like the digital clockwork within wasted brains.
Finding things out a harder way properly trains
And builds up the weak gray matter. Noting will last
In this world for the unforeseen eternity.

 Babies learn how to Google with relative ease.
Nature gives them the willingness to have their say
In their language made known to all who have keen ears.
They Google celebration with giggles and cheers
But not using devices with which adults play.
Finding out information, for them, is a breeze.

One who Googles one’s ass off for hours on end
May end up with a headache from mental fatigue.
So it’s best to have babies and children help you
To combat the addiction. The searching you do
Means you’re lost in a lull and bereft if intrigue.
It is my humble honor to vaguely offend.

The Charm Of The Chef

True Romanticism

An iconic romantic is he with the smile
That can melt the most bitter of hearts instantly.
Comforting, entertaining, dynamic, and kind,
He’s as jolly a fellow as nature can find.
At his craft he’s a master. Most deliciously,
His work meets the occasion of elegant style.

Diligent is his effort to put folk at ease
And to make them feel special, knowing that they are
Simply by their existence… no matter what breed

That appearance may dictate, he shows not the need
To engage in exclusion. One feels like a star
In his warmhearted providence catered to please.

Moments meant to be poignant are his to address
With the skill of the lover whose heart is of gold.
The gregarious leader’s most magical gifts
Are his positive feelings. His presence uplifts
Any low hanging spirits above the threshold
Of delighted contentment in life’s warm caress.

 One with imagination and passion to be
At the service of others, rarely he must know
Turmoil or desperation. Wholesomeness is shown
In the art of the purpose that I may atone
For those parts of myself that don’t help me to grow.
My connection with others is not about me.

A Day For A Daydream

Nature's Pleasant Surprises

Loving spoonfuls of wonder, a blanket of snow
Unexpectedly ushering fun and delight,
And a childlike excitement are right for this day.
I may just bundle up and then go out and play.
Let the new year be subtle yet sunny and bright.
What the past has to offer I don’t need to know.

It’s A Day For A Daydream to last through the year –
One that I create each moment I choose to be
Receptive to the nature of all that takes place
In a world made magnificent. Our human race
Is both symptom and cure for its insanity.
All the newness I’m feeling is not tied to fear.

I have work that I must do… much of it mundane
With some fruitful forgetting and more yet to learn.
Each moment is the starting point of the release
Of life spent and the welcoming in of new peace.
How I live for this day is my only concern.
What has not come awake is my urge to complain.

Hopefulness is the pleasure of provident grace.
Reassures me it does that at least I exist
Right along with the space and the things around me.
I reach out in true blindness but contentedly.
In the long run there’s nothing of life that I’ve missed
So this day made forever is all I embrace.

Let Go!

It's A Flush

Deep spiritual cleansing is done at year’s end.
The completion of one cycle welcomes the new
With profound expectation that life may improve.
What on God’s green earth does it take for me to move
Past all past reawakening and get through to
That which is of most essence devoid of pretend?

In the past year I’ve learned how to write fairly well.
My opinion is fantasy to the degree
That I rate recognition. Others do much less
And gain love and respect. If contempt I express
Then the karma created cannot let me see
The next year without clinging to the past year’s hell.

 Learning how to let go of the life I create
Is a process encumbered by urge to sort out
What I need to get rid of that’s holding me back
From a possible future of feeling less lack.
Memories reoccurring bedevil all doubt
That my humble existence is governed by fate.

Nothing has any meaning, and life makes no sense
Unless others come part way. But if not at all,
Then it’s all up to me to survive and to thrive
In apparent aloneness yet fully alive.
May the gift that I offer some day not be small
Yet my growth in this new year be strong and immense.

A Commanding Presence

The Power of Being

The exotic adventure conceived of the soul
That takes form in the gruffness that makes up the mask
He must wear for survival is what he lives for.
Abrasive yet distinctive, resourceful, and more,
It’s his dream he is after. The ultimate task
Is to find hidden treasure that he can control.

But what may be of value, to some, may be waste.
In the hands of each holder no two are the same.
“Cherished dreams are attainable if I am strong!”
…Leads to frequent hardheadedness, yet doing wrong

Is not part of his nature. At times he is tame
And can show warm emotion, often humor laced.

When the path needs a change due to straying off course,
What it takes is someone who can get to the heart
Of the beast and the matter. Once this has been done,
Positive transformation has truly begun.
Sacrifices and choices remain a big part
Of the life path selected and that we endorse.

Protected in the comfort of cunning and greed,
With the stereotypical image self-made
Of a powerful presence, he honors his charm.
To the ones that he cares for he cannot do harm.
Capable as a leader in any crusade,
He’s a figure of passion and will to proceed.

Changing Conditioned Behavior

The Dance of Thought and Emotion

Momentum and inertia are always at play.
Streams of energy sluggish flow with those of speed
Deep within and throughout me. Why can’t I let go
Of behaviors unwanted so that I can grow?
Gravity of life cripples my will to succeed.
Is an answer forthcoming? Please show me the way.

My own habits deep seated over many years
Coalesce into patterns that build the ego.
So to change them quickly is not easy to do.
I need proper guidance so that I may get through
The resistance I’ve crafted. What I need to know
Doesn’t move me sufficiently due to my fears.

The content caterpillar resistant to change
Wants to stay firmly earthbound, but nature rebels.
The destruction of old ways must be absolute
So the tree of becoming can bear fresher fruit.
When a true crisis happens, it truly compels
Abrupt emergent action. Why isn’t this strange?

The ego fears its own death and wants to hang on.
Knowing not that it cannot completely dissolve,
It may generate panic and drama to stay
In a bad situation deluged in dismay.
Not by force but by wisdom I then shall evolve
Though antics of the ego will never be gone.

An Uncommon Companion

Acquaintance With Uniqueness

From two worlds come together true adversaries.
Consciousness of each other is through the force field
Of transparent protection from the playful one
Who cannot stop from wanting to see her undone.
Through inane interactions, the lesson revealed
Is that change can occur but not always with ease.

Glamorous and expressive she is in her place.
Among loved ones, she loves playing the central role.
Responsive and most caring in your time of need
She’ll provide proper nurturing so you’ll succeed.
She knows best how to make any creature feel whole.
Through her essence aquatic, she knows not but grace.

Not aware of the danger that may be at hand
Due to uncontrolled urges emergent outside
Of her own psychic bubble, she teaches kindness
And a new source of presence that all can access.
In the end such a vision is never denied
Whether living in water or on the dry land.

What she knows is affection for all living kind.
Making friends is a blissful existence indeed.
During turbulent times every creature will care
For the welfare of others who are in despair.
Yet confined to the water, her spirit is freed
By the true source of wisdom with which she’s aligned.

The Importance Of Forgiveness

The Eternal Need For Balance

Looking over the ages of our history,
The degrees of unconsciousness clearly are seen.
I reflect the asleep state. It takes over me.
If I lose it completely those I know will see
But an arrogant ego who’s troubled and mean.
Energy patterns similar are by decree.

Karmic Law is unbreakable as it is made
Through deeds done while sleep acting or in awareness
Of the essence of Being. How can I complain
Of the actions of others I know are insane
When my own ill behavior, I humbly confess,
Is too much in alignment with my own crusade?

In the act of forgiving, compassion is shown.
Recognition of ignorance is the release
Of the need to seek justice. What takes care of that
Is their own karmic drama engrossed in combat
With themselves and their enemies. I will know peace
In unfettered observance while poised to atone.

“Please forgive them for they know not what harm they do…”
Is the message eternal to all humankind.

Suffering is an option that I need not take.
I ensure that by becoming fully awake
To the ill state we’re all in because of the mind
Recreating fresh turmoil from out of the blue.

Being Triggered

Remotely Controlled

My anger is explosive. It sneaks up on me
Like a flimsy hair trigger. I can get upset
In one tenth of a moment. It happens so fast
That reactive behavior comes on with a blast
Meant to show I can be a formidable threat
To those who dare oppose me to any degree.

At issue is the pain body. It’s a dense field
Of life energy where pain and anger are stored.
If I’m not aware that the pain body exists,
Then I am yet unconscious, and chaos persists.
After my ill performance I see no reward
But emotional baggage foolishly revealed.

Full identification with the pain body
Means that I and my ego and it are the same
Which is false, but while unconscious, thinking it’s true,
I’m a slave to its drama. Then what can I do
But to fly off the handle? The aim to be tame
Is one taken in wisdom. It’s better for me.

That I have a pain body I must be aware
But in absolute presence and knowing full well
That I’m separate from it. It then dissipates.
I don’t want to be someone who constantly hates.
Through the practice of presence in peace I may dwell.
Contentment in the moment is what I find there.

Inviting Presence And Building Good Karma

Keeping the Inner House Clean

The word ‘Karma’ means common sense to those who know
That we can live in harmony. It’s still a dream
From the fossilized hippie days when love and peace
Were appropriate discourse. The need to release
Ancient patterns that fill the mind to the extreme
With executive drama most clearly we show.

I find waiting a challenge. I can get upset
Due to ingrained impatience, origin unknown,
Yet somewhere in my past. There’s but one thing to do –
Concentrate on my breathing and take in the view.
Otherwise my discomfort will become full blown.
Reacting only causes me harm and regret.

That which had been annoying is a lucky break
From the baggage of karma I’ve carried for years.
All that I care to notice, as presence I find,
Is a blissful observance detached from the mind.
As my power of presence grows, gone are my fears
Of certain situations. I’ll just be awake!

 People become reactive to worldwide events.
In so doing, more karma then accumulates
And continues the cycles of drama and fear.
Is the practice of presence something to hold dear?
Can one world be receptive to changing our fates
By erasing bad karma? I think it makes sense.

Growing In Presence Together

The Moment of Co-Creation

With spiritual guidance comes many a test
To the union of presence in full awareness
Of the bond made between them and others they know.
Interaction among them can help all to grow
In the light of alignment. The love they express
Is a viral infection at nature’s behest.

We emit certain energies, not of the mind,
But of how we are feeling and what we may need.
This strong field is an aura that others perceive
At the gut and heart levels. It cannot deceive
The intuitive process performed at light speed.
It’s a feature included with all humankind.

Questions simple and complex both have one answer.
Disidentification with the ego’s thoughts
That confuse the reception of wholesome advice
From one’s own inner being can be only nice.
Awareness is the presence that keeps giving lots.
That it spread through humanity I would prefer.

We are each other’s teachers for worse or better.
Destructive is the energy people release
Who have not been awakened. Unconscious is life
Through the mind’s ill abstractions that generate strife
For the innocent spirit. It does deserve peace
So that healing and growth continues to occur.

The Compassionate Warrior

Empathic Independence

Women are most compelling and independent.
Not in need of a male anchor with a short chain,
They’ve evolved into citizens and wise leaders.
A man’s compassion cannot be greater than hers.
Recognizing her presence, true balance we’ll gain
And the good grace of what our values represent.

Somewhat like Esmeralda, outspoken and strong,
Hate and discrimination women don’t accept
Against themselves nor others. Their magical gifts
Create law from a place where the spirit uplifts
The best human resource. For too long it’s been kept
A grotesque machine structure where most don’t belong.

Bravery, sense of humor, and empathy for
Those she has taken charge of are traits to behold
In one physical presence elected to be
Ballistic of intelligence effectively.
It is right that the statue retain the blindfold
But the woman of justice is meant to see more.

 If two dicks by the hand is worth one anywhere
There may be a bush burning way out of control,
Then strong cunt stands for country and proper respect
For the laws of our nation. The need to protect
What we almost lost grip of is now in our soul.
True women are the part of us who teach us care.

The Gift Of Presence

The Joy of Opening the Self

From a night not quite silent into the new day
Still a part of this earth realm, the gift I must share
With myself and with others is my being here.
Unlike where we all came from, this schoolhouse of fear
Offers difficult lessons, often of despair
Yet by free will all have something merry to say.

We need one day to say it. Perhaps many more
Scattered throughout the whole year might keep hate at bay.
Knowing that’s wishful thinking, better the ideal
Than the negative nature that can make me feel
Ill at ease as I live, I’m encouraged to pray
That I first know who I am right down to the core.

Many packages, some tied with fancy red bows,
And some rather plain looking, are inside of me.
I know not where they came from, so it’s a surprise
That I’m able to find them despite their disguise
As past failures and troubles. Today I can see
That my presence is one thing the universe knows.

Knowing that there is presence in all that exists
Here on earth and in heaven does make it worthwhile.
I can learn to be kinder from that peaceful place.
Most the world for one day is receptive to grace,
A new vision of hope, and a reason to smile.
It is only the ego that strongly resists.

Remembering Spaciousness

The Expansion of Awareness

Am I spacious? Or have I not much room to grow
To my fullest potential while earth is my home?
It’s a question I must ask. It’s like a check-in
With the spirit within, wherein I can begin
Creating a new landscape where it’s free to roam.
I am sure that the answer can never be no.

Spaciousness is the essence of my awareness.
The mind is a container for all that I know
Through the processes of reason and memory.
Out of reach is the view that the third eye can see.
It can help with the sorting out and letting go
Of my obsessive thoughts which cause me undue stress.

Before asking the question, did something occur
That may have been upsetting to some part of me?
If it’s so, then a little space opens where I
Can distribute the discomfort yet not deny
Expressing to the one diplomatically
How I feel, and importantly, what I prefer.

No matter how important my worldly things are
To my health and survival, the time that I spend
Becoming more spacious in my daily affairs
Is my number one duty. The best of me cares
That my progress continues and that I transcend
Situations I foolishly make too bizarre.

Only The Best

Choosy Lady

I like things nice and fancy. I’ll do what it takes
To ensure that I’m noticed by most everyone.
Charm and sophistication are tools that I use
To gain access to others of high-minded views.
Independent and lively, I get a lot done
As my elegant artistic passion awakes.

Yet I’m also quite sensible. If you’re in need
Of advice for advancement in society,
I can help you immensely in finding your way
To success and contentment as soon as today.
Confidence I’m acquainted with, as you can see.
Simply put, I’m a study in thought, word, and deed.

Some folks can’t be kept waiting. I’m no different.
Feistiness and a lesson may be the result.
Time is always of essence to those of good taste.
Every moment is precious. There are none to waste
At the pleasure of others. It is an insult
To my spirit and free will to change the event.

Knowing my strengths and weaknesses helps me to be
A more conscious creation designed to create
More abundance of niceness wherever I go.
Since there is good within me, I want it to show
Through behavior that indicates my life is great
With the ones that I know and love wholeheartedly.

Subconscious Sabotage

Sub-Surface Self-Undoing

When I try to maintain presence throughout the day,
My subconscious need for superiority
Sabotages my progress. As an example,
People anxious around me when I am peaceful
I resent with a passion. Yet if they were me,
I’d expect warmth and kindness. Why am I this way?

Is this normal among people? Am I unique?
Or is my nagging issue not of importance
To the general public? Were I not aware
That I’m asking these questions, then would it be fair
To say that I’m unconscious in living by chance
That the mind will provide me the answers I seek?

I’m aware of awareness of being aware
Of my mental creations, then cunningly so,
Mind reenters and hijacks the presence I’d gained
And creates a new story wherein I’m restrained
In its falsified structure. It’s good that I know
How the mind plays its tricks and tries to keep me there.

To not know that I know not that I am asleep
Is to live in confusion and utter chaos
Within stories created from subconscious fears.
Many problems are caused by what’s between my ears.
If I simply observe it all, there’ll be no loss.
To remain not awakened, the price isn’t cheap.

Simple Pleasures

Sensual Comforts

Those who honor The Pooh perhaps have less to do
With their time than the average person these days.
Life becomes convoluted in every detail.
We must face daily duties and onward prevail.
Is the creature imagined worth all of this praise
For fat happy stupidity in point of view?

Sensual in demeanor, the earth is his home.
All he does is hunt ‘hunny’ (He’s not been to school).
Days are filled with much comfort and some adventure.
He may rub folks the wrong way, but his heart is pure
As the gold that he cherishes. Somewhat the fool,
He relies on the bliss of his carefree syndrome.

Satisfying his cravings is what he does best.
Having no inclination toward being too rushed,
He gets what he is after, though usually,
He ends up in some trouble that he cannot see
Ever coming his dumb way. Rarely is he crushed
By resulting resentment that may be expressed.

Yet he’s thoughtful and loyal to creatures he knows.
Being uncomplicated, warmhearted, and true
To the one he’s at one with earns him special grace
In the mindsets of many who gladly embrace
Anything that reminds them there’s nothing to do
But to go for the gusto after a nice doze.

Breaking Free From Anxiety And Fear

The Ethereal Monster

This world is full of sorrow, and mine is surreal.
There’s no one to support me in my time of need
Of a proper solution to my tangled mess.
Had I someone to talk to I’d freely confess
That I am rather hopeless. My case I would plead,
But I am so ashamed of the way that I feel.

Meditation eludes me. My life’s twists and turns
Make me fearful and anxious. My letting it be
Seems to make it grow bigger. Darkness has a grip
On my soul, of which I claim complete ownership.
If I don’t find an answer that satisfies me,
Then I may be an object the devil discerns.

Attention must be focused, when problems arise,
On the fact of their presence, then detach from it.
Examine carefully all the negative talk
That the pain body thrives on. Indeed, it will balk
At the notion of presence and will throw a fit
In defense of disaster with which it allies.

Fear is of a low frequency. It puts the nerves
In the rhythm of panic. While identified
With the thoughts that create it, I am not aware
That I’m safe in the moment and that I must care
That awareness and presence cannot be denied.
It’s a gift that every living creature deserves.

Well immersed in the problem, must I feel the pain
That the body responds to imagined or real?
Fight or flight is the trigger created by thought.
An awakening comes when this moment is caught.
What is real and the story can both make me feel
Much the same, so from drama I’m best to abstain.

Defiance

Platter of Delusion

You could say it’s a flesh wound, and I’d play along,
But I think that a band aid will do you no good.
Your world is devastated, and mine is restored
To some semblance of normalcy. I can look toward
A much brighter reality. No knock on wood
Is required with its stating. I cannot be wrong.

Your head, now on a platter that’s not made of gold,
Spins a rat’s nest of trickery. Can it undo
What has now become history? Loss you can’t take.
We The People have told you that we need a break
On a permanent basis from the likes of you.
News forthcoming shall reveal how much you’re controlled.

You are such a fine catch as a Russian asset,
But the era of being Putin’s foolish tool
Is approaching its ending. Your head is a gift
To the newness of order. The energy shift
To a warmer vibration is wholesomely cool.
We’ve been fucked up our dumb ass, and we won’t forget!

In that act there’s been bloodshed and stark disregard
For what makes us a nation. It went on too long.
The dull aching will die down, and that which must heal
Is our true sense of worth and the way that we feel
Having endured a raping by the lord of wrong.
Consequences you’ll suffer for keeping him hard.

Burned Out And Depressed

In the Heat of Stress

I can’t practice my presence because I’m burned out.
Around people I often find I get depressed.
I’m having difficulty and notice no change
Toward a better direction. Why am I so strange
That I can’t take direction nor can I digest
Simple teachings of spirit? I suffer in doubt.

The declarative statements that come from the mind
In an unending torrent are only concepts
That create a false story which I then believe.
If I identify with it I won’t achieve
The presence that eludes me. My frequent missteps
Indicate there is progress. My journey is kind.

Statements made can be tested by getting among
Other people, then practicing being aware
Of the body’s sensations and what it perceives
And each breath of fresh air that the body receives.
This is just the beginning of personal care
That will keep myself healthy and forever young.

Starting with the reality now in my face
That requires my attention, I must come awake
To the fact that I’m consciousness separate from
What appear to be problems I must overcome.
Can I look at the story and know that it’s fake
And become more enlightened in natural grace?

Seeing Beauty In Everything

All The Universe Is A Masterpiece

Beauty is of the feminine. People are both
In one physical package, yet one becomes more
Than the other. Unbalanced is nature’s odd ways
As perceived through the mind’s eye which can offer praise
For the dominant handedness of us. Therefore,
Everyone has some feminine to enhance growth.

Masculine is of beauty that it may behold
With emotional pleasure. It seeks to impress
Its intent and desire for the object wanted
To the thing and all noticing. Unconscious dread
Of failure in the process causes no distress.
Beauty is the encounter that’s meant to unfold.

We start out with the sense perceived life. As children,
Everything is of beauty. Our reality,
Without words to assign things, is pure awareness.
We are so filled with wonder the need to express
Is suspense made eternal. The world that we see
Is of utter connectedness time and again.

Focusing on the small things we do every day
Can lead us to the presence that makes life a dream.
The big things are just fine, too, if they fit in well
With our homemade reality wherein we dwell.
Addiction to technology is an extreme
Among many unhealthy. All lead us astray.

There are rose colored glasses that alter the mind
And can act as strong doorways through which one may peek
Deeper into awareness of utter presence.
Capable we are of creating such events
By the nature of consciousness. That which we seek
Is alignment with nature and all humankind.

Overcoming Suffering

Mostly a Matter of Mind

Constant shots of I Love You direct to the head
Where the heart is an image that needs special care
In resolving the problems the mind recreates
Is one kind of addiction among human fates.
Suffering is the byproduct all creatures bear
From birth into existence until they are dead.

A huge bit of my suffering is of the mind,
As it is with most people. Alone it can make
A big deal of a small thing, then all will go wrong.
If my positive thinking were stunningly strong,
It may cause enough shifting that I may awake
To the knowing that obstacles are rather kind.

Other problems of living I cannot control,
As they come from the outside, or seemingly so.
People dying and illness are common to all.
We encounter the big things as well as the small.
It is necessary for all creatures to grow
Through the difficult challenges to make them whole.

Thinking can’t offer freedom from having to face
Obstacles on my cherished path, Do I create
Every damned thing that happens? It’s irrelevant!
I can accept that I create just the moment
With detachment from judgment in absence of weight.
Optional is most suffering that I embrace.

Controlling Reactive Behavior

Working With The Inner Beast

From the state of New Kansas where now I reside,
Having not moved while sleeping to some other land,
I cry out to the sane ones who we’ve left behind
Back on earth with the freedom to not be aligned
With the plan of sedition. Must I understand
That my worst dreaded nightmare is courted with pride?

I’m already reactive… explosive at times
In a world that is normal, and I do my best
To remember to honor the sickness and learn
To predict the ill onset of heated concern
From a space of awareness and thus put to rest
Any kind of intention resulting in crimes.

What a lawful prescription for seizing control
Of reactive behavior! Like losing one’s bowels
At the push of a button some have access to,
I cannot let the circumstance render me blue.
The behavior red-neck-like of white men with scowls
Complements the tri-color scheme burnt in my soul.

Not quite like the Jim Jones effect, this one with ease
Has achieved mass hypnosis. But folks come half way
And some quite a bit further to highlight their hate.
Pre-convinced, they are moved to an ecstatic state
By the arrogant loser who must save their day
And be forever tied to their leader’s feces.

I must remember one thing. That is to be cool
Amid seeming collapse of my world as I know.
Justified is my panic and utter heartache.
Commonality is like the bite of a snake
To its own tail. Not knowing the cause of its woe,
It must then play the role of the flamboyant fool.

The Roots Of Anger

On the Horizon of Hate

There’s a root to my anger. When it cripples me,
I’ve but one of two choices. The wrong one results
In destructive behavior and harm to my health.
Like three ships into sunset accustomed to stealth
On the stillness of sea, the intention insults
Who I am at my best. Disturbed I mustn’t be.

Once I know where those roots are, I can overcome
How they feed through their festering into my peace.
Until then, I’m a loose cannon and a time bomb
Who may do harm to self or others without qualm.
So to heal and get past things, it’s best to release
Energy that is toxic and makes the heart numb.

The process of the healing begins with reaching
From oppressed to oppressor to let it be known
That the bad perpetrated has done the one harm,
And that one does one’s best with intent to disarm.
Asking help from the other will help both atone.
In the final analysis, it’s no big thing.

But it isn’t that way always. Deep rooted hate
Along gender and racial lines practiced worldwide
Passed down through generations is most powerful
And complex as the dickens, therefore it is bull.
Suffering is not mindful and can’t be a guide
In transforming my anger by what I create.

A Cut Through The Chase

A Reawakening to 'The Dream'

Is the chasing of wild geese more right than the tame?
What the mind will run after without a real goal
Is its own misperceptions that grow out of fear
That the ways of seclusion may soon disappear.
With no sense of direction they need the control
Of an arrogant leader who knows not of shame.

It is through repetition the con game is played.
In most rapid succession the lies that are spewed
Are the same, yet each has an ill-fated effect
On those ones of us programmed to withhold respect
For select populations. The urge to exclude
In the hearts of so many makes children afraid.

Citizens not susceptible happen to be
In a group with one label. In monochrome view,
Some enact their nostalgia for the good old days.
The intense subtle training through pre-adult phase
Melds the mind’s microprocessor for what to do
When they’re called to hate duty spontaneously.

Is the way to cut through this simply to take part
In what I am a part of by natural right?
Does it mean feeling troubled and losing much sleep
Keeping up with the counting of sycophant sheep
Planning ways to do harm to me, and there’s no fight?
What I can do is write more, as it calms my heart.

Notice The Little Things

Where Detail Becomes Major

When at one with The Moment, the little things are
Full of infinite wonder and simple delight.
Having blissful awareness, like that of a child,
Is the cure for adult life where I’m reconciled
With who I truly am versus who I’m not quite.
The Conditional Mind is a fake self bizarre.

To who I am, I believe there is so much more
Than the self-talking person who, through mental means,
Has come into existence for fake dialog
With my sense of awareness. The ego thick fog
Can be burnt away quickly through simple routines
That will help one to do so. Youth they can restore.

If I am immersed in the self-talk in my head,
Then I can’t feel the subtle things, like a cool breeze
On the cheek on a warm day, or spring in the air.
In the mind there’s no life because no one is there.
To honor and appreciate all that one sees
From a space of awareness is better instead.

A shifting in consciousness can happen right now.
Any time that is Present is eternity.
Separate is the self-talk from pure awareness,
Which, through practice, becomes easier to access.
“Step Away From the Chatter!” Who says that to me
But a voice more alternative if I allow?

Final Duties

Spiteful Acts On Departure

Ain’t it just like a nigger to act the damned fool
When there’s nothing to do but to bow gracefully.
But his kind are deficient and rather uncouth.
They are mentally lazy and lacking in truth.
It is right that this dark one be hanged from a tree
For his acts of treason and tyrannical rule.

The next beast shall rise surely within a few years.
This one has made a breeding ground like a ghetto,
Or a trailer park haven hog tied to the past,
Where direct insurrection does but flabbergast
The dumbstruck with amazement by such a lame show.
Now the door is swung open, but who on earth cheers?

Those would be those off color who glorify hate
And are driven by greed and their lust for power.
If and when they lose bigly, they are driven mad.
The resorting to destructive acts is quite sad.
To behold the beast whimper is what I’d prefer.
It facilitates healing that most yet await.

There’s no proper transition forthcoming this time.
The toddler now in office will not say goodbye.
So instead, there’s destruction and acts done in spite.
And four tenths of the country will swear that he’s right.
This old, fat, ugly loser gives it one last try
Perhaps not even knowing that it’s all a crime.

Serenades Of Sedition

The Simmering Unrest

The Wild Western Empire has expanded beyond
What contiguous statehood cannot comprehend
As a song of seduction. Sedition is clear
In the eyes of sore losers who madly adhere
To the awfully bad actor who they must defend
While not caring the least bit that they have been conned.

As it was, and is now, and forever shall be
Blown along with the sagebrush and acid hot dust
Is the thickness of hatred in bitter belief
That if I’m not of their kind then I am a thief.
All that I have accomplished must fuel their disgust.
In the blindness, an enemy is made of me.

The song keeps getting louder and won’t go away.
The replay of post trauma I did not expect
To recur in my lifetime. Am I again wrong
For believing that blacks and whites can get along?
The drum beat is deep rooted and has the effect
Of a discordant weapon that savages play.

Warriors are not made or born. They just exist
As strategic abstractions that must take on form
When the duty to slaughter the other is called.
The grand party of outlaws, though they be outlawed,
Leave no peace for the restless amid the dust storm.
What I get from it is how to write with a fist.