Tag Archive | social commentary

The Heart Of The Matter

Self Appreciation

Superficial relationships baptized in wax
Melt away in intense heat among any few.
When engaging with others, the meaning I seek
Is a deeper connection. The words that I speak
Are a soulful expression few can misconstrue
As the sound of some object open to attacks.

Writing can be romantic. My odd verse and I
Are each part of the other. Our hearts beat the same…
To the tune of awareness of all I can be.
All the things about people that satisfy me
Can be my point of focus. To love is my aim.
I might not feel this way long, so that I will try.

I acquaint my emotions with such a rare beast
That behaves as an intellect with an ego.
Creatures such as these, tamed by subconscious insight,
Will become worthy pets who can yield much delight.
Knowing self and accepting it can make it grow
So that grace and abundance are aptly increased.

Affluenza Vaccine

Unspecified Disquietude

Life is full of abundance. All children must know
That all good things are wonderful. They attain worth
By the feelings we give them. But things exist here.
Dense is this dire dimension though sometimes most dear.
Every child should experience comfort and mirth.
Should behavior befuddle, then how must that show?

How could one feel neglected in paradise found
With no effort nor struggle? Need they have concern?
It may not be apparent. If true, we are blind
To our most valued assets – the fruit of our kind!
Life cannot get so complex that we can’t return
To more wholesome relations and sharing unbound.

Interact with emotion. Avail of your time
To their own daily drama. Should they seek advice,
Let it come from the one who cares for them the most.
The responsible parent need not be engrossed
In the ethics of “coolness” and how to be nice.
What they need is attention, and this is most prime.

Reaching Agreements

Consentual Achievement

Talk to people and people will talk back to you.
It’s a good time for travelling both near and far
Seeking out other earth trekkers and touching base.
What may have been a problem becomes a closed case.
What has not been discussed will remain a tough scar.
Healthy communication helps me breathe anew.

There exists a transaction in every handshake.
A connection is made. Circuitry is complete
For the flow of God’s good grace and blessings galore
To the hearts of both parties. Who knows what’s in store
If I neglect the hookup… other than defeat?
Should business be electric? It’s all that I make.

Time enough becomes plenty for mental pursuits,
Catching up on life’s details and making contacts
That may become productive in myriad ways.
I’ll negotiate mindfully. That always pays.
I can’t let opportunity seep through the cracks.
I must exercise all of my best attributes.

Commercial Affairs

Group Approval

Analyzing of finances is to cash flow
As breathing is to good health so that we may thrive.
Commerce is interaction with those of like mind.
Business equals good exercise when it’s resigned
To a meaningful purpose to keep it alive.
Product comes from good planning; therefore it is slow.

Is that it in a nutshell? Quite hardly the case
Would it be for behavior not to be complex.
What I’d like is some insight to sort through my mess.
I’ve a knack for neglecting, with shame I confess.
Give me guidance toward wisdom in all due respects.
Let my whole soul be filled with your cosmic embrace.

…Time to turn my attention to physical things
That I must make of value. My mental pursuits
Need to be sharply focused on earning my keep.
Information gained sensually isn’t cheap.
All good work does, in time, bear significant fruits
Like the ones that the Spirit most graciously brings.

A Dominant Personality

Power of the Feminine

I am good… not the greatest. I want to be fair.
I consider my assets worth standing up for.
Who can do that for me but the me that I am?
Energy and ambition outline my program.
Having conquered one mountain, I could go for more.
I am cute but ferocious as any ma bear.

Some would say I’m assertive… others, perhaps worse.
Life has made me a warrior noble of cause.
Many varied impressions upon folk I make.
What they all have in common is that I don’t brake
Under maximum pressure. I seek no applause.
I do challenge fearlessly all that is perverse.

It’s my time for adventure beyond the wild west.
History craves return on investment of pain.
I respect my vitality. Freedom is mine.
Though I can be combative, it is by design
That we all become mindful of what we may gain.
Change is on the horizon. Will it be our Test?

Trollfactory Bulb

Toxic Awareness

Fake spam comments from Russia a half a mile long
Are the only ones I get. At least I exist.
Yet you need not enlighten me. My sense of smell
Keeps me mindful of danger. Though you may excel
At controlling behavior, your work is dismissed
As a dark and faint echo of having done wrong.

At least write in plain English. Cyrillic I don’t know.
It looks too much like hogwash imbedded with spew
Of the coldest resentment the heart can withstand.
You can speak with my accent. I know that you can
Act as if you’re the best friend that I ever knew.
I became keen to your sickness some time ago.

I once worked at a factory. Dog food they made.
I lasted ‘til near lunchtime. The smell made me sick.
I don’t feed my dog dog food. I know better now
How people out gross animals. I made a vow
To trust in the olfactory. Smell is the trick
To discerning the fear bear. I am not afraid.

You’ve invented the troll farm. We know that by now.
Trolls are lowly paid workers who work with no light.
They can see what they’re doing by watching we fools
As we flail about aimlessly with broken rules.
What I offer to all is my deepest insight
For what it may be worth and what you may allow.

Attractive Differences

Outstanding Feminine

Sparkling fresh and unusual changes occur
In my everyday manner. Clearly I stand out
Like pure life among statues – metallic in ways
That my heart cannot fathom. What change can they praise?
A romantic adventure would without a doubt
Be enhanced with excitement as I would prefer.

Life is fine, and disruptions are welcome today.
They look like opportunities to take a chance
In believing the universe honors my back.
Positive are the outcomes when I’m knocked off track.
To be drowned in self-pity or maintain my stance
Is a simple decision. I feel I’m at play.

 Differences Attractive defy circumstance
Of belligerent nature. I need to let go
Of all that which is stale from incessant non-use.
I alone am the jailer who can set me loose.
I relate to ex-prisoners, as we all know
How complacent captivity holds us in trance.

Intermediate Frequency

Vintage Eternity

All behavior is cyclic. Each has its own phase
Of a sequence of actions that has to repeat.
Each one has its own wavelength for getting things done.
As one thing is completed the next is begun.
Cycles do mix together in manner discrete.
All can act as a carrier in many ways.

Upon signal detection I’ve ended up here
In a world made of matter with message and means
To broadcast in fidelity all that I’ve learned
From dimensions beyond this one. I am concerned
That my most errant cycles are locked in my genes.
Is it safer in heaven where there is no fear?

We are all the same signal. Our wavelengths combine
To form one complex beacon in infinite space.
All continuous segments of organized time
Abhor demodulation. Is this not sublime?
As my cycle completes I’ll return to that place
From where all is transmitted and all is divine.

More Arguments

Face Wars

Legal Ordnance doth fly as the Eagle must try
Like the dickens to get its discomfort across.
Unexpected encounters of the social kind
Take on added significance. Some are inclined
To blame their instability on the coin’s toss
Or the acts of ‘the other’ as laws may apply.

We’ve become quite the coin, now, of binary face.
We’re of primary color yet shy just a few
Of the ones deemed essential. The sight of the old
Only replays the nightmare. I am self-controlled.
I’ve become too complacent in that which is true
Yet I feel the commitment to argue my case.

Arguments and Agreements, because they compare
To most basic dichotomies, share the same core
Which, in essence, is freedom from stagnant discourse.
Language should be alternative to using force.
Having played in the crossfire, should I want for more?
It makes sense to speak softly and to be aware.

Unstinting Effort

Ultimate FeminineTriumph

It’s a labor not lacking in strength of tough love
Pre-administered righteously with a skilled hand,
Intellect made of crystal and heart of pure gold.
She’s a force to be respected and to behold.
Could my pride take a beating under her command?
I have felt woman’s power. It Is From Above.

In deliberate effort and centered in grace
At the base of her breathing, she leads with her soul.
Her most noble decisions are made to adapt
To changing situations – such as have entrapped
Those of aberrant character. Her only goal
Is to prepare the space for parties to embrace.

Could I learn more of discipline if I gave birth?
The answer, nonexistent, still begs it be sought
Through the depths of my consciousness. Peace does it bring
When the truth I consider can make my heart sing.
My evolving male ego need not to be fraught
By the rise of the feminine and a new earth.

Speaking And Listening

Need To Be Heard

Clear communication is a goal I may reach
With the folks I’m around in my daily routine.
People sound off profusely, but not much is heard.
I am one who once thought that speaking was absurd
Until I was coerced by the social machine
To come into my humanhood fettered with speech.

I recall how soft spoken and timid I was.
My first words were a stutter yet standard in form.
Then there came learning language and testing how much
I could absorb the techniques, aesthetics and such.
I was told I was troublesome… Not of the norm.
People think that all children should obey all laws.

I now often speak loudly… At times with some force
As I sense competition is part of the mix.
So, on goes the adventure. To Listen is then
Something I must learn also. Never has there been
Such a time as the present to learn some new tricks.
Had I stayed autistic, there’d have been no remorse.

On Embracing The Change

United In Transformation

Eclipses can be good things but rough to get through.
When most light becomes darkness much more than a while
I can know it will pass as all hellish things do.
May I look far beyond it and embrace the new?
I’ll stand up to the ruggedness not with a smile
But a mindset restructured to new points of view.

Doomed to become historic, this time has its place
Among cyclic phenomena. All moments must
Come to profound significance if I want growth.
Between now and what’s possible I can’t choose both.
I must make my decision infused with the trust
That this cosmos of consciousness bathes me in grace.

The upcoming conjunction of soul, heart and mind
Is a meeting of powers who are made of me.
Jupiter and Uranus shall usher insight
Of an expansive nature. Things do turn out right.
Letting go of what is now… Can this set me free?
I claim choice in the answer. I am that resigned.

Toughening Up

The Battle In Life

Living is a big battle upon the game board.
I have not a complaint. Fighting is exercise
And I’m in the best shape that I’ve been in in years.
I have learned to be tough and to fight away tears.
Living is without quality, and therein lies
My surprising ability with shield and sword.

Take you chance. I am ready. I’ll chop your head off
With a laser-like swiftness and focus direct.
There’s the chance I’ll be wounded. I don’t give a damn!
I’m prepared for the battle. That Is Who I Am.
I will work like a bastard to gain due respect.
Those who beg for my wrath are the fools who now scoff.

I’m a master of tough talk, yet as life draws near
To the time of my judgment, this war that I fight
Feels more like an amusement – one played just for fun.
I shall honor the drive, but the fight I will shun.
If I don’t know I’ve won, then I’ll know I’ve done right
By the spirit within me who knows not of fear.

Toy Surprise

Anticipated Excitement

Should I wait ‘til sunrise for my big Toy Surprise?
I could do breakfast now while erupting in bed.
No one else needs to join me. From in my small room
I can text who I want to to postpone the gloom
That would otherwise show me that I am mislead.
If I have to be friendly, then can I be wise?

It began with the boomers – those crafted amid
Times of rectification of their perceived wrongs.
They invented invention, then put it on stage.
Those who followed have carried us to a new age.
A deep inherent restlessness clearly belongs
In the process evolving as it always did.

Wherein lies the excitement? Within the device?
That seems somewhat perverted, yet it matters nil.
Such may be said of my complicated machine.
Had I contact with others, I wouldn’t be mean.
Do the toys that I play with rob me of free will?
Need I have them to know if I’m naughty or nice?

My Existence Makes Sense

Affirmation

My Existence Makes Sense, and there’s life to commence.
I do feel much more childlike as seasons march by.
I see such an adult world when I look outside.
I’m afraid to go out there. In here is my pride,
Where my sense of the strangeness I may simplify.
If I feel disconnected, I’ll call it suspense.

Sensing feeling is mutual, well I reflect
That which I am a part of. What love can I know?
Is it why I’m not listened to? Am I too mean?
Living life like a woman, I’ve become obscene?
Have I screwed up completely with nowhere to go?
Had I acted more manly, had I known respect?

 What makes sense is of import to living that out
In a way that feels wholesome and absent of fear.
If I feel like a channel of wisdom and light,
For all intents and purposes, I’ll do alright.
Any sense that I make here at least is sincere.
I’m of value to this world. I have not a doubt.

A Wonderful Day

Peace

It’s A Wonderful Day! Did Christ make it this way?
Let’s not screw with a damp dream and give it due cause
To condense into quibble. Whose story is true?
If it matters to God, all the killing we do
Goes against what was preached about. So are the laws
As the Lawmaker gave them, or has there been play?

It’s still such a big mystery shrouded in doubt
Which precisely plays into the function of faith
Just as modern day drama dissolves into dream.
History will record things only as they seem
To those living in this time. Real news becomes wraith.
Human nature precludes seeing truth as devout.

So, we’re left with the mystery and with the choice
Of blind faith in vague dogma by threat of demise
Of the soul God created and loved? This makes sense…
…To a god who’s demonic! We seem awfully dense.
Truth becomes complicated; therefore it is wise
To ignore all the bullshit and simply rejoice.

Don’t ask me what my faith is. It’s already known
By all essence with beingness etched in its soul.
So to ask is aggressive. It puts me on edge.
To no fellow observer do I yield my pledge
And therefore my God given right to self-control.
My belief in humanity is harshly shown.

Christmas God has invented. Enchanted in grace,
As this day becomes special, we know all can be.
Any day word becomes flesh, all flesh becomes one
And a season of enlightenment has begun.
God is good! That’s enough… If we all could agree.
Christmas brings folks together. That all can embrace.

There’s No Meeting Tomorrow

Treasurehouse of Hopes

I was told there’s not meeting. Should that be good news?
Or should there be disgruntlement and some concern
That we elder club members have lost interest
In why we’ve come together? I gave it my best
But my path leads elsewhere. I can let this adjourn
Until late in eternity. I’ve naught to lose.

Apathy blends with yuletide as dust infects air.
It needs freedom from stasis to acting in ways
That are Christmas Card Cordial. The garland of heart
Is the basis for recrafting the new year’s start.
We decide what is meaningful throughout our days.
That can change in a heartbeat and folks shouldn’t care.

I prepare for the meeting as duty dictates
How the heart of the soldier behaves at its best.
Am I here to take orders and march in a war?
If this army’s not for me, then am I done for?
I’ll return to the clubhouse perhaps as a guest.
Now the meeting is cancelled. What Freedom Awaits!

A Wishy Wash

Global Laundry Crisis

It’s a wash no one wishes on anyone’s world
When within one’s right mind there is nothing to see
But full drawers of clean laundry. Do Not take a breath
As the smell of this cleanliness may cause one’s death.
Citizens who of left mind just want to be free.
What has been convoluted must then be unfurled.

Many billions of children at play in their rooms
After many an eon have left earth a mess.
We are not home alone, as our mother is here
Yet our father is elsewhere, not meant to be near.
We’re hard pressed to invent him with any success
And the unending filthy wash cycle resumes.

As the traitor species, we’ve made ourselves awash
In our own filth and grime. But we are like the child
Who attends not to discipline. We’ve no concern
But for needs of the moment. What then can we learn?
And can our past activity be reconciled?
As we look at our laundry we’ll lose our panache.

Long Live The Queendom

Feminine Game

Women’s voices bear wisdom. That they should be heard
Without question or scrutiny just as are men
Is the issue evolved over eons of time.
Women do as most men do, but then it’s a crime.
We excel at technology but we must then
Take the leap toward enlightenment. It’s been deferred.

To be treated as children is not half the crime
Perpetrated on half of the human genome.
It’s a death blow to growth and an insult to be
Of the most sacred feminine. What we now see
Is the subtle emergence from fear back to home.
It’s a shame that this has taken such a long time.

Women tend to be steadfast, more one with the earth,
And less prone to snap judgements that are ego based.
We’re in great need of balance and meaningful change.
Only women provide that. How can this sound strange
Since our trust in the kingdom is clearly misplaced?
That which nature respects more is given more worth.

Praise, and Long Live The Queendom! She stands in the sea
With a blindfold and scales and a message of love
To oppressed, huddled masses… indeed, to us all.
In this garden of Eden, the only great fall
Is man’s satanic fantasy. Yet far above
What’s been kept underfoot is the will to get free.

Worst Case Scenarios

Agony of National Fever

What if our choice becomes ill and Trump wins again?
Incomplete multi-whammies are par for the course
As the hot flaming golf carts careen in the blind.
Who can’t see We The People are through being kind?
It would provide due justice to see some remorse
In the small group of dastardly, arrogant men.

Yet, would that be the worst case? We could burn in hell
By executive edict for due disrespect.
A scorched land of slave owners and slaves we could be.
Brutal force would be used. People would disagree.
More like animals we’ll be with tribe to protect.
Civil war will destroy us before we get well.

The spectra of scenarios given the gut
From the mind boiling over with deep discontent
Is the illness that ails every breath of cool air.
How much longer will I know but rabid despair?
Using Christ as the tool to bring on our descent
Is the nature of why we are in this sick rut.

Made Afraid In America

Looming Disaster

To be Made In America is to believe
In one nation united with justice for all.
Is it too high an ideal for me to achieve
With my brothers and sisters who hopelessly grieve?
Can the statute of liberty survive its fall?
We are made not by ourselves. Let’s not be naïve.

Consciousness is the Wild West of human concern.
It’s been made a commodity. Nations partake
In intelligence warfare to program the mind
To behave in such ways that are much more aligned
With their sinister interests. Should we come awake,
We’ll have overcome fallout and nuclear burn.

I remember Chernobyl, the horrid mishap
That they tried to keep hidden. But word got around.
We’re within the first half-life of something much worse.
The decay of the human soul completes the curse
Cast upon us. But maybe new hope can be found
As we discern the enemy’s will to entrap.

Toward The Latter Day Thaterday

Time And Innocence

I would call this day that day were it not today.
If I knew not the names of the days of the week,
I’d be free as the daylight. Times savings, for me,
Is to strict an absurdity. If I could see
Why daylight requires saving, would I be unique?
I know no one who knows why… just what others say.

And what they say is nonsense. Commerce is the cause
For the shifting of daytime so people spend more?
Now, two thirds of the year we live in fantasy
Somewhat anchored in nature and reality.
Between daylight and nighttime evolves civil war.
I’ve become too accustomed to knowing what was.

I’ll look forward to Thaterday. Should it arrive
In one third of a sudden, would it be too soon?
Daylight borrowed at no interest is obscene.
If we trick mother nature, we can’t call her mean.
Thaterday, once invented, no one will impugn.
We shall treat time with honor, as if we were five.

Metamorphic McMagnet

Narcotic Nostalgia

Seems the AC’s and DC’s are at it again
Like a scene at McDonalds among dueling fries.
It was back in the old days when burgers were best.
Feeding fast food to congress would be the best test
Of intestinal fortitude and compromise
For a body of divided women and men.

There’s a magnetization that has taken place.
It’s called ‘polarization’ to those in the field
Of magnetic alignment to one of the two
Choices possible, maintaining one’s narrow view.
When there’s been enough outrage, perhaps truth will yield
A safe space for deep healing and ultimate grace.

That which soon will degauss us cannot come through men
Nor through whites nor rich old folk detached and aloof.
It will come with our women, the young and nonwhite.
We The People are varied. We each bear the right
To full representation. We are junk food proof.
May we cherish our digestive health once again.

Spectral Shades Of God’s Darker Thoughts

Surreality

When God Thinks, life is born, and all good things take place.
Would one think that divine thoughts are lame like our own?
No! They’re complex and powerful. They’ve become real.
Our thoughts, when we direct them, can get us to feel.
But the thoughts of a deity make flesh and bone
And endow them with nature’s protection and grace.

So, how come there are good and bad ‘thoughts’ that exist
In the mind of a being who is only good?
One would think that omnipotence knows not of bad
Nor would want to create such a hell, I might add.
Boredom is then established though not understood
By the soul of creation that is not as blissed.

Oneself Blessed into Boredom could Be the Big Bang
If no other selves offer to make themselves known.
I would call mine a good self if I were but one
And the only one being. I’d then create fun.
Could I not see how I’d become wayward thought prone?
From one simple good thought the whole universe sprang.

We’ve control of our thinking, thinking we belong
To the set of all thoughts that God will entertain
Throughout all of existence and unfathomed time.
How to return to good thoughts from mayhem and crime
Therefore can be pursued with the hope of some gain.
Perhaps, reaching that point, we’ll have transcended wrong.

The Yuletide In Magic

Well Is All

The best songs about Christmas were written by Jews.
No one needs to ‘go figure;’ it makes perfect sense.
Christmas transcends religion and ways to know God.
Human ways of expressing God’s love may seem odd.
There’s a Yuletide In Magic. It ushers from whence
The whole heart of humanity yearns for good news.

When the mention of sleigh bells sets off a cascade
Of the most blessed memories one can recall,
‘All Is Well’ is the feeling. Through this dark of night
May we find what connects us. Please give us that sight.
Is it wise that we worship the hot bar room brawl
All the time except this time because we’re afraid?

There’s abundance of Magic throughout all our lives.
If I stop for a moment to sound the Yuletide,
There’s an increase in goodwill toward all humankind.
I can hear return echoes ring throughout my mind.
The profoundness of Christmas we all share with pride
For it’s in our belonging that our race survives.

United In Fever

Conflagration

To build up to a Fever it doesn’t take much…
Just a call to be human. No problem. That’s done.
Where’s the next entertainment as drama unfolds?
We pretend we know not of what our future holds.
Through the heat, to a new day, what now has begun
Is the reaching for justice. It’s now within touch.

But while in such a Fever of heightened degree
Due to blatant misconduct and unbridled greed,
Mayhem can be expected. Delirium speaks
In a manner most violent. It lasts for weeks.
For the top down is planted the virulent seed
That the roots of humanity feel they are free.

We’re United In Fever as one human race
Though divided we are in which sides we embrace
And the fact that there are sides is something of note.
Leadership that is side-less is the antidote
For the Fever that ails us. So red in the face
Is the view that is offered until there comes grace.

Simulation

Dual Reality

To each person this world is a Simulation.
Altogether they make up one reality.
Most finite in its realness, it structures the mind
To think that it’s of essence and clearly designed
By one other than oneself. This isn’t to be.
We don’t really exist here. Nothing has been done.

We each create our own Simulation before
It’s combined with the six billion running right now.
It is done as a lesson to learn to behave
And make sense of our feelings and how they enslave
As we make the best of them, then manage somehow
To return to the infinite being much more.

Arrogant is the judgment of anyone’s worth
In this live Simulation. Free will is ours all.
We must act as if people here really are here
And do honor fully what they truly hold dear
Lest the whole Simulation become our downfall.
Our becoming a part of it begins at birth.

World Water

TheMagicRealist.com

Treated like a commodity water becomes
Something taken for granted while fearing its loss.
Water can’t disappear. What the earth contains now
Is the same that it always had. But to allow
It to be where it’s needed, we must come across
Better means of surviving than twiddling our thumbs.

This is no call to action. It’s practicing verse.
My thumbs each know the space bar and take equal turns.
We are made much of water. Life water contains.
Water can flow through earth as the blood flows through veins.
May we find a solution? Our survival yearns
For consensus of consciousness of our own curse.

Rivers are fed by glaciers and forests, we know.
There are no other sources. The glaciers recede
Because of global warming. That’s still a debate
Rather than an alarm bell we can’t obfuscate.
Most the forests are gone much due to human greed.
To bring back our world water, we must let life grow.

The Giving

Process

There are times to be thankful. We set them aside
Because we are so busy with making time pay.
Times relate to the seasons the earth must go through
As it circles the sun making each cycle new.
Life cannot give up giving then call it The Day.
Each moment of existence is then justified.

In preparing for Thanksgiving, when to begin
All the planning and clockwork to make it worthwhile
To all who become present for one special day?
We cannot stop The Giving. We’re blessed in that way.
Now, we’re deeply divided and in no denial.
Life responds to our thankfulness – not to our sin.

In The Giving, relief from the drama at play,
On the world stage or this humble spot where I live,
Rings a welcoming echo and feelings of grace
That I have become thankful that I know my place.
I am thankful The Giving allows me go give
With no sense of confusion nor heartfelt dismay.

Character Is Destiny

The Drama of Symbology

It’s a simple equation yet complex in ways
That can cause misconception and conjured up fears.
‘Character Equals Destiny’ sounds about right.
But, pray tell, what is Character? Shine me some light.
I’ve been lost in this forest for too many years.
As I watch them sneak by, they seem much more like days.

I do know well what destiny is, I do think.
It pertains to the future and how things work out.
If I live well, then good fortune may come my way.
If I don’t, then I won’t be immune to dismay.
To determine what ‘well’ means may free up some doubt
That would otherwise fulfill its job to hoodwink.

I should know what will happen if myself I know
As the sole story teller. To disarm all fear,
Am I known to be truthful in word and in deed?
People care about safety. Therein lies the need
For a code of behavior to which I adhere.
To thine own self be honest, then God’s grace will flow.

Dirty Double Dog Stare

Benign Absurdity

May we be made aware of the Double Dog Stare
Most specifically, the discrete dirty ones?
Truthfully, dogs don’t give them. They get them from us.
When they behave more like us, we make such a fuss.
They have become, for many, our daughters and sons
And when they misbehave, we still give them our care.

I cannot take for granted what’s in a dog’s face
Because it leads directly to that creature’s heart.
The connection exists between mind and the soul.
Each can know of the other to make knowing whole.
They are friends with much love and wisdom to impart
To the whole of humanity as a sick race.

We have keen double vision in how we believe
Our realities mingle. This is how we are.
Is it used for survival within our complex
Constructions of necessity? Nature objects
Such a notion of grandeur as much too bizarre.
Other species can learn from us how to deceive.

 

With Eyes Off The Perpend

Wall of Analysis

Parallelness is tricked as it can perpendict
At no other locations than ninety degrees.
So to stay parallel can be done fairly well
When revealed that the strong perpendicular fell
Through a crack in the mortar when it had to sneeze.
Such a thing shouldn’t happen if properly bricked.

But what brick can admit that, solid as they are
Whether laid on their sides or prepared to stand tall?
Truth among brick is baseless and of no degree
That can be safely measured and accurately.
Most unnatural acts are done to the brick wall
When destructed in haste and without a memoir.

Don’t pretend that prepends are perpendicular
To stuff above and under them – not to their sides.
One should act with conviction expressing belief
In perpendicularity, as this is chief
In the building of structures where faith are the guides.
Keep your sense of alignment from flying too far.

The Solemnity Of Solitude

Autumn Serenity

I respect my aloneness. I am not apart
From the magic surrounding me. Each breath I take
Is reflecting what I behold as I believe
In a world more fantastic than I could conceive.
Can I do such with others without much heartache?
There would be much less known and much more to kick start.

I am but one antenna with one vantage point
Defined in this reality as separate
From all other transceivers within the same void
Of a chaos of consciousness most humanoid.
Should my being alone be something to regret?
Those who long for this freedom may nature anoint.

I exist in an acorn that hangs from a tree
In a mystical forest bathed in golden light.
All the world that’s around me, I’ll take with a grain,
Or a fractional part that produces no pain.
When I do hang with others, I do so with sight
Of my true self distinguished from all there’s to be.

Malefic Colonoscope

Colon Specific

A head made for examining places obscene
Is the best of a woman. This world view will change.
Will the goddess of old step aside for the new?
Will she be brushed asunder, her path laid askew
By upcoming young Goddesses? Can it be strange
That procedures be undone due to ill routine?

There are those who, nostalgic for good times gone past,
Need a detailed report on the colonic health
Of the king who she works for. The news sparks their hopes
That all women can be trained to be endoscopes.
It is made more appealing when tied to some wealth
And the praises of men through their lifetimes will last.

I won’t look at that colon. Suffice it to feel
On some subsonic level what goes on up there.
My head must be above all that causes distress.
All the feminine power that we now suppress
Is approaching expression. Is this but a prayer?
Naturally prophetic, it shall become real.

Cosmosis

Procession of Existence

The direction I’m pointed to is, by design,
Not of worth to the cosmos nor who they contain.
I believe it’s a good thing. What else can I do?
It’s become calisthenic when my heart is true
To the point of the exercise. Yes, for the brain,
Which is part of the cosmos, this effort is fine.

At six seconds per page view, this site is on track.
A deep sense of fulfillment becomes firmament
Above firm, fluid calmness. I’m playing my role
As the fool of the gene pool with no special goal
But To Be and respond to the obscene event
And to keep on existing without looking back.

I Was Here. Who need know that? What sense does it make
That I can feel significant only by means
Of the chronic Cosmosis, contracted at birth,
That makes me need attention to be on this earth?
Being sociable this way is not in my genes.
So, should I write a book to compound this mistake?

Simply being alive means I’m doing my thing.
Should the cosmos become not aware of its own
Then it must defy logic since I do exist.
When I’m gone I can know that my words wont’ be missed
Because they’ve been lent to me so that I be shown
What a glorious outcome this process may bring.

Rationalization Of Pain

Objectification Of Fear

People utilize pain pills. They do a fine job
But they are problematic and otherworldly.
Addicted to their side effects, folks then become
Naturalized as an alien. Feeling made numb
In an effort to banish pain but completely
Is a crisis most urgent. Life Force does it rob.

Yet there is a solution to deal with deep pain.
One can look at it upright and study its parts.
In a rational context they all look like fear
That the way of existence is rather austere.
The nerve throbbing profoundly is how it all starts.
It is good to know that pain is not felt in vain.

I cannot dramatize it nor give it import.
As a signal, its job is serene and secure
Like the crash of electrons throughout their highway.
Drama only moves traffic and causes dismay.
If pain is seen as plastic, may I then endure?
Would I feel much less of it were I to fall short?

Verbal Storm

Thought

Our thoughts are like the weather. From out of the blue
They are born of a nothingness wanting to be
In connection with other thoughts. They coalesce
Out of need for expression. Life isn’t a guess
When they’re free of distortion and mental debris.
When they are well constructed magic one can do.

Thoughts need words to communicate much of the time.
Many ways to convey thoughts are at our avail
That are strictly nonverbal. Much art is this way.
So sublime a dichotomy can’t but portray
Possibilities boundless and rich in detail.
To get our points across is the thing that is prime.

In the space that is parallel to what we think
Is a vortex syllabic and vast beyond sight.
People learn how to speak well, but what does it mean
When words yield much confusion and actions obscene?
Words proceed from our thinking, and knowing it’s right
May be what keeps one balanced and well in the pink.

The Trials And Triumphs Of Tina Treasuretoosh

Showoff

When one’s toosh is a treasure, life can become strange.
For oneself, the ambition to stand out in crowds
Is a righteous and just one and follows the need
To be noticed and envied. We’ll fail or succeed
By the free wills of others. Vanity enshrouds
All the parts of our bodies that we think can change.

Parts are part of the parcel we dare to enhance.
To give one part attention more so than the rest
Is what people fall into because of demand
Of our parts-centered natures. Who can’t understand
How it can be offensive if wrongly expressed?
No one should have to fear that they’re taking a chance.

Some big butts are a magnet to wide erect eyes
That don’t mind stimulation. Tina knows for sure
She is much more than her cultivated asset.
Those who can’t realize that are not her regret.
She proceeds with a fine ass and heart that is pure,
Knowing that all the parts we have are a disguise.

Do I Need A Container?

The Questions of Life

Is Defining My Life Force a worthwhile pursuit?
Or should I remain timid regarding nonsense
As is seen by this busy world? Is what I do
Of a value consistent with right points of view?
Silly world, I am childlike! My faith is immense.
Self-discovery for me is an absolute.

Do I need to be guided while I’m on my way
To wherever my spirit has pointed my heart?
We all are flesh containers. Those older than I
May be of some assistance. But I can get by
On the infinite wisdom of which I’m a part.
I must know who I am or I’ll surely decay.

Within me there is substance. It and I are one.
This complex earthy medium makes a fine tool
That I’ll use to explore to my true heart’s content.
There is nothing more meaningful than good time spent
Looking inward. It increases my psychic fuel.
There’s no end to my searching as long as it’s fun.

Toward A More Natural Order

Economies of Order

It’s a nonverbal language of lucid morphemes.
Acquisition or learning are possible ways
We may come to express what we see as our truth.
It is best that we learn how to speak in our youth.
That’s because when we’re young we put fun in our days.
We all read from the same book, or so it all seems.

Is there natural order to how life evolves?
Can we find a predictable sequence within
Spatial substance suspended adrift in the mind?
If the mind fights with nature, is it well designed?
All pragmatics, semantics and syntax are kin
To the global phonology as it revolves.

Language is as it should be… a social disease.
Subdivisions of virulence grow big in size
And compete for world dominance and point of view.
We become more programmable and less askew.
In the common collective we can recognize
How to become more fluent as our nature sees.

Freewheeling Abandon

Freewheel

A visit from Uranus to Venus is like
Having Santa’s elves over to Feng Shui your heart.
I review my relationships. They need to be
Shaken from their sclerotic routines as I see.
All that I’ve become part of could use a fresh start.
To hell with an old mindset. My will is to psych.

That I do well. It’s not like I’ve not what it takes
To discover new ways of relating to all
Who indeed are my brethren. Commitment I give
Only to more excitement in all that I live.
What had been strong and stable has become banal.
When the heart becomes unstable, the soul awakes.

Uranus is the rebel rouser in the sky.
He brings on inspiration to seek out new ways
Of defining our values, our tastes and desires
…Those things that are of Venus. My spirit requires
Artistic stimulation, as my mood will raise.
Venus will be upset when Uranus drops by.

The Anatomy Of Feeling

Color Vibration

Electrons paint our feelings as they flow through nerves,
And like all good conductors, the nerves in return
Propagate waves magnetic, attuned to their flow.
Waves traverse space with great ease and complex cargo
That consists of our moments. I want to discern
What my feelings are made of as my heart observes.

Yes, the nerves are like wires. We’re much like the machine.
Our electrical systems respond to Ohm’s Law.
When our moments are transmitted and then received
Nerves within the receiver, so it is believed,
Replicate exact patterns felt and without flaw,
Though we may not perceive them unless we are keen.

Knowing deep pain or pleasure, each have the same feel.
Our high current protection limits either one
So the rational mind can measure in detail
What it is that we’re feeling so life can prevail.
We can re-tweak the system so that it will run
Like a fine feeling engine. Is this not ideal?

Keep Your Gum Off The Bedpost

Common Place

Keep You Gum Off The Bedpost. It’s not the right place
To park something retrieved from its oral abode
Entertained by the teeth, tongue and tonsils by day.
At nighttime can it be wise to treat it this way?
Gum cannot remain safe when its pace has been slowed.
It’s as if a good runner is pulled from his race.

And when parked on the bedpost, the germs in the air
Are free to make a fine home of its resting mass.
Gum will regain full flavor, not of what it had
But of crap in the funky air, and this is sad.
Any fool who would do this is quite the jackass.
One who chews funky putty needs wise mental care.

One must use proper hygiene when dealing with gum…
Never mind that the bedpost, because it’s erect
Through the night in a dark room may give someone pause,
Why put something disgusting back between your jaws?
The harm put upon gum from nocturnal neglect
Can come back to upset one and make one feel dumb.

Be Sincere

Social Performance

Film is rolling. Now, give the world your whitest smile.
Don’t tell me you don’t have one to proudly display.
We all have social standing. Is yours not above
Those who are at rock bottom? Do show them some love
By reminding them life is much better your way.
Don’t you dare let your mask down. It is your profile.

Be alive and in good health for all whom you meet
On the street, if they’re worthy of some time of day.
Use your keen sense of judgment to fully assess
How much they are like you or hopefully much less
So that you feel of value in life’s cabaret.
Claim your sense of fulfillment from Satan by tweet.

But be kind to the losers. We speak from the soul
With our hearts heavy-laden. Stage presence we lack
And our costumes are tattered from playing our parts.
We all have one director who knows all our hearts.
In a heartbeat we’ll leave here without looking back
Knowing non-actors exit with none to condole.

Do I Need A Co-Writer?

Programmed Terminal Distraction

Hanging on past my world worth, I seek not my own
Group of lighthearted losers. Alone I decay.
One misspoken raw truth or a social faux pas
Once a day should not get me involved with the law
Nor should it take my birthright to be here away.
Nature does still support me in its Twilight Zone.

Gnats don’t help with my writing. They get in the way.
I’ll assume that it’s personal then take offense.
Their obscene aeronautics hijacks attention
Even if there’s no light source. They do this for fun.
They are faster than I, so it makes perfect sense
That for such a transgression I shall make them pay.

While in flight, I can spray them with something that burns.
Rubbing alcohol works well. A delicate mist
Knocks them flat on their asses. I take much delight
Because now they’re so dazed they can’t put up a fight.
When they start fucking with me, I cannot resist
Brushing up on my mayhem against all concerns.

As they frantically gasp and flail after they fall
I now master the last laugh and take back some pride.
As I watch them grow weaker, I’ll spray them again.
They’ve messed with the wrong creature among insane men.
As I see that they’re hopeless, I feel good inside.
After that, I will kill them. My wrath isn’t small.

Do I draw such contempt from those of my own kind?
Do I act out in consequence of being cursed
As a highflying nuisance disrupting the show?
That I know nothing of it causes me to grow.
Someday I’ll cease my wars, but right now I’m submersed
In one of my own making. It’s all in the mind.

Women And Power

Strategy In Power

When and how to use force are the questions to ask
Among so many others before waging war.
We’d prefer conversation and working things out
Yet throughout all our history there’s little doubt
That we are prone to fight and to even the score.
When it comes to destruction we’re up to the task.

Have there been female generals in the wars past?
Who knows how they would fight and what harm they could do?
There are some of a fortunate few who could tell
Of the hell they went through that we cannot know well.
We know only of fighting men. Women, we view,
As still much less than lethal and of lower caste.

Women have been in office, but playing the game
On a man’s world stage and with the rules now in place
Is a leadership lacking in human resolve.
We can remain one-sided in how we evolve
But our old ways embellish our racial disgrace.
When women define power things won’t be the same.

Unmasking The Face Of Fear

Beneath The Mask

Do I fear the unmasking? What horror awaits
That I should know is coming by guilt that I feel
At the pit of my gut? Why this sense of surprise
That I have something coming? I wear a disguise
That is known as the ego. It is grossly real.
I cannot feel wholehearted when it dominates.

The ego is a force field that works like a lens.
It reflects what is inside outward but with flaws.
Our perceptions are finite. We use them to deal
With this rigid reality, damned to conceal
All that is not of this world and bound by its laws.
When the ego dies, that is the moment life ends.

Do I fear my undoing or fumbling head on
To a possible train wreck, or living in grace
Among those who I equal? What can penetrate
What I sense as my force field can cause me to hate.
What reflects back into me in time I will face.
The fear will cease completely when the mask is gone.

Toward The Soul’s Inner Truth

Remaking of the Soul

Many times through the year Mercury takes a break.
In his flight through the beltway he seems to sit still
Then track backwards, as if he’s retracing his trek.
When it happens folks complain their lives are a wreck.
Actions must be repeated. We all know the drill.
Simple things go awry. It can be a headache.

That’s not all it’s about, though. What lies at the heart
Of miscommunication is just an alarm
Sounded gently and frequently so we’ll review
Old ways of doing business and then make some new.
When we examine him closely we may disarm
How we feel when he’s retrograde in any chart.

Scorpio is his resting place, and for a while
We will be healing venom. The Truth of the Soul
May restore what’s been poisoned to healthy potion.
It’s the time that emotional cleansing be done.
Conversation in honesty can be the goal
Lest we remain indignant and stuck in denial.

Retrograde means re-knowing the path we have made.
Mercury, in his moonwalk, resets weakened ties
Or releases them if they’re no longer of use.
And in Scorpio, dark ties and secrets profuse
Are revealed. They will no longer hold their disguise.
The Soul’s Truth is a substance no one can evade.

A Check-In With Spirit

Journal

If I write on blank pages with fullness of heart
And well-focused, is its worth far greater than if
My mind also is void of just how to express
How I’m doing in my pursuit of happiness?
When comes time that I tame the feral verbal riff
Spirit then will take over me as I take part.

To sit down and start writing is not a big deal.
Some folks struggle with writer’s block. I am immune.
I’m equipped with a motor-mind shy of a voice
Loud enough that folks hear me. Is it not my choice
To be part of the episode we all attune?
And is it worth recording the things that I feel?

Go ahead and just do it! If I should hold back
Then there’s something undone, and my spirit will yearn
For some kind of expression of what it goes through.
Every moment I’m writing yields me a new view
Of my life with more clarity and less concern.
It’s the best way I know to keep my life on track.

Those Who Watch Us

Providence

The cosmos is expanding, so it creates space
At a rate most phenomenal – faster than light!
In that space there is substance, but not very much
Compared to all existence. Creation is such
That space is the main product. It has taken flight
Like a bat out of nowhere with nothing to chase.

Why there is so much space being made, and so fast,
May remain a grand mystery to the best minds
Until we come to know some things well understood
By the ones who are watching us, not for our good
But for close observation within their confines.
They would not interfere even if they were asked.

They have not come to harm us nor help us at all.
Their mindset is collective. Some have never met,
Yet they’ve joined for one purpose. It is not their goal
To prevent self-undoing of the human soul.
If they acted, it then would be seen as a threat.
Space contains all existence. That’s why we seem small.