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posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 12:04 AM
What You Do Unto the Least

Course, it's easy to push around non-persons
especially with the added bonus of a web of deceit
and lies upon lies
like suffering upon suffering
All under an umbrella of me, me, me,
Sucking up the energy
like some half-man machine
and sending out bad medicine
toxic as the industrialized green
crowed as one man's claim -
deleting prayers for enemies
and truth as lies and lies as truth
Scrounging for the next bill paid
on women's needs and failings
Just because your prayers weren't answered
when and how
You whined a bawled
Don't mean a thing
Non-persons don't care at all
For they are none and have nothing
All renounced great and small for
someone else will stand between
Great persons large and seeming powerful
The Least

posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 12:26 AM
Rising Other's Up, Now

'Rising other's up now'
she chimes with snide derision
for those who like to play at brother's keeper,
Understandable, one imagines
with all the cruelty dispensed in that aim.
Better watch though, to not insult the master
while plying top spot
in that trade.
They're rising other's up now,
in the the back-room, the place he gets paid.
Happy adulation for the money he's laid.

[edit on 30-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 01:34 AM

Now mind races -
With the original insults so deftly and knowingly triggered.
Barnum's sleight of hand doesn't miss a trick
from the invalidation to the twisted wit -
Devil knows just where to throw the knife
Every little hurt and insulted bit.
No, not a moment was lost on him.
Surly little trickster with a mind control whim.
Truth is much stronger than
the circus of lies plied by Barnum.

[edit on 30-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 12:09 PM

It's all lost
purple tinted shrouds
relics that followed turin
ghosts haunting a darkened labyrinth
with twists and turns

doesn't matter
doesn't matter

how it hates them
time ticking backwards
moonbeams eclipsed into night
doesn't matter
that the past was never a lover
cold rivers pouring downstream
through fingertips
with beads there counted

World's apart

[edit on 10-3-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 02:45 PM
It has snowed in the Sahara recently.

Snow On The Sahara

Only tell me that you still want me here
When you wander off out there
To those hills of dust and hard winds that blow
In that dry white ocean alone

Lost out in the desert
you are lost out in the desert

But to stand with you in a ring of fire
I'll forget the days gone by
I'll protect your body and guard your soul
From mirages in your sight

Lost out in the desert

If your hopes scatter like the dust across your track
I'll be the moon that shines on your path
The sun may blind our eyes,
I'll pray the skies above
For snow to fall on the Sahara

If that's the only place where you can leave your doubts
I'll hold you up and be your way out
And if we burn away,
I'll pray the skies above
For snow to fall on the Sahara

Just a wish and I will cover your shoulders
With veils of silk and gold
When the shadows come and darken your heart
Leaving you with regrets so cold

Lost out in the desert

If your hopes scatter like the dust across your track
I'll be the moon that shines on your path
The sun may blind our eyes,
I'll pray the skies above
For snow to fall on the Sahara

If that's the only place where you can leave your doubts
I'll hold you up and be your way out
And if we burn away, I'll pray the skies above
For snow to fall on the Sahara


[edit on 30-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 06:28 PM
Trickster, what tangled webs you weave.

I've seen the number you've made sick
in astral - the multitude lost in lies so thick
it's a blackened foggy stew.
Adrift without logic or love to ground them -
roaming the planes in an electric cloud
of terrified need.
Lost trolls who plead
for a bit of light to find them.

Challenged, we are challenged
at the crossroads -
as always,
to make the love
for which they grieve.

Go ahead and ply your trade
Though they may slaver and wag
to the swagger of your earthly stride,
Lies aren't opaque on the other side.
You've shown what you are to those with eyes.

Something greater this way comes.
For humanity there is no greater miracle
no more desperate a need than love.

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night. - Shakespeare

[edit on 11-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 07:41 PM


To grow old is to lose everything.
Aging, everybody knows it.
Even when we are young,
we glimpse it sometimes, and nod our heads
when a grandfather dies.
Then we row for years on the midsummer
pond, ignorant and content. But a marriage,
that began without harm, scatters
into debris on the shore,
and a friend from school drops
cold on a rocky strand.
If a new love carries us
past middle age, our wife will die
at her strongest and most beautiful.
New women come and go. All go.
The pretty lover who announces
that she is temporary
is temporary. The bold woman,
middle-aged against our old age,
sinks under an anxiety she cannot withstand.
Another friend of decades estranges himself
in words that pollute thirty years.
Let us stifle under mud at the pond's edge
and affirm that it is fitting
and delicious to lose everything.

Donald Hall

[edit on 9-3-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 11:25 PM

Kilganon lay down in the tall wind rippled grass.
Crisp white linen dress stained from the ground.
Black patent flats, petaled bows on the buckle,
Scuffed with green and scratched with brown.
Lead-heavy lids drinking dreams snatched in winks and nods
Nodding agreements sleep's certain to make sound,
Droop into shaded dreams, asleep in the summer,
Wisps of hair curling onto rosy cheeks round.
Under the flat mirror of the lake's shiny surface,
Light becomes dark and up becomes down.
Fragile membrane a blue pearl's lonely purpose
Translucent, ghost-like where square becomes round.
Red-brown pathways, roots rippled deep and wide,
Branches sharp into space; flown high on bird eyes.
Dragonflies like to magnify, mosquito's deny.
Birds and bees, to eavesdrop in groups of nine.
Ants building food stores, grasshoppers hopping rhyme.
Sleep seals agreements nodded in harmony with clime.

[edit on 30-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 8 2007 @ 12:20 AM
milkweed michael

milkweed, or thistle, or some thorny glower
milk weed whistles
sticky and white
a curious delay
of unpleasant delight
mornings on meadows
and hot afternoons
where cicadas flamenco
and wildflowers laze
milk pods rich and pregnant
with viscous malaise
Thistles that bristle
over Scotland's steep waves
rocky as the highlands
prickly as her knaves


[edit on 30-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 9 2007 @ 05:28 PM
Of Your Human Sacrifice

Like peeling petals from a flower
on the altar in the yard
he would offer up their hearts
and powers to the hunger
of his ravenous gods.
Abandon hope you brilliant fighters
little stem leaning for the sun.
No christian empathy or Godly justice
as there has always been none.
Self deceptions like the dressings -
oils on a corpse.
All manner of perversion;
diversion, in the interest of the chosen ones.
A machine not sharing -
uncaring for the cries of little ones.
Not even heaven's kingdom awaits the mustard seeds
sprinkled in among the rocks
no roots or germination to speak of -
abandon hope little fighter
For you there is no God.
No rhyme or reason -
just be pleasing
for the ones who call the shots.
All eyes are on the winners
won by human sacrifice.
They that ring in the next age
of despair for all who have loved life.

[edit on 9-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 10 2007 @ 01:36 AM
Pyrrhic Victory

He's just so swagger
So needs to be right
Let him have it
Especially when he's wrong
Another dime a dozen patriarch
Another cheap imitation empire
Propping up attractive hypocrisies
Like men who think their strong
When they can't admit they're cruel
Women they breed like animals
Trained to play by their rule
Vultures at his table
It's no threat - all right under his nose
Let him have his mighty throng
His grand finale visions
A lull might blow the lid off
So let him have it as he wants

"Surround it with restraint. It has no limits.
Only in the containment of your renouncing
will it truly be a tree."

[edit on 10-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 10 2007 @ 11:23 PM

The Road to Hell
by Charles Bukowski

if only there were more magic people
to help us get through
this strange life.

surprisingly there are a few.

the problem being that often
their magic doesn't hold up
for long
because they begin to
think it's because
they are special

when really
it's almost an off-hand thing
like some damned crazy unearned

and when the magic people
begin to misuse their
begin to use it
in the wrong ways

that's a

it's one of the most
unalterable laws
of the gods and the

and there is
nothing sadder
or more
than the once-gifted ones
still trying to work their
for the

which never offers,
but only

Our demons recoil
from the truth
fear of disapproval
overriding justice.
Goose-steps for might is right
always looming
where fear lies.
Lies, and lies, and lies -
God will permit
the beast to conquer his saints.
Break the seal
with lamb's blood.

[edit on 17-1-2007 by clearwater]

posted on Jan, 11 2007 @ 11:03 AM

Now that I've played jackal
pissing on the base of your pyramid
and not bourgeois Bovary climbing the apex
as though it were she -
Note - I know I'm not any better
and worse by far for knowing thee.
Company in hell never gets respect.
The truer they tell, the hotter it gets.

posted on Jan, 17 2007 @ 10:04 PM

Forgiveness Pretty Sunshine
was born into the world today.
Her French mother will call her Soleil
and her English father will obey.
When a scorpion is born
someone dies
and when a scorpion dies
someone is born.
Forgiveness is a Capricorn.

posted on Jan, 25 2007 @ 01:19 AM

They were dark times though visually opulent -
Blind, the way love sees.
Cream-colored, wide, fat-tread-art-deco rubber tires -
fashionable cigarettes
and a cellar full of magic instruments.
Hovercraft, moon landings and the CIA's '___'.
So many would stare into mirrors at demons.
She saw the chipmunk - terrifying though,
chipmunks full stature to see.
No sir, not the metal detector, again
combing beach after field.

posted on Jan, 25 2007 @ 01:55 PM
Shelah na Gig and the Phallus Worshipers

Julian the Giddy will guard the portal willingly
though the audience low -
Keen moon exuberance
in the dusty misbegotten
halls of the ghost of glory,
where knights fail the grail,
their eyes growing dim
as Julian's brightness grows.
Gardens and doorways
under mistletoe and marriage proposals
blessed be,
Shelah na Gig and the phallus worshipers.
Pomegranate is sweet in Hades
for spanky's giddy na gig.

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 10:09 AM

Flung far and yes, it's quiet now
after a storm
Hanuman you've forgotten all your powers
how it roared
Summoned like rag dolls
through alleyways and flagons of song
Monkey hides in the shadows
till morning has drawn
he's gone with the orchard
rotten ones bitten and fresh ones thrown
in the window
where she sleeps on the bed
full of apples
Golden tunneled cobblestone
Rama has spoken

posted on Feb, 16 2007 @ 08:52 PM

Love is cruel for war's her master
The little minx knew they couldn't deny her
Possessive like children but wild like life is
they love Moses - You love Moses?
All those years on the front lines
She could insult their game rules
by chiding a pawn
Angry, the compliant accord
come running with skillfully wrapped
fugues of harmonic discord
Wretched peek for double agents
hybrid, she's a hybrid -
White vans and the unicorn
call the embassy, the navy
call home
But I love him
It was in the sunlight
I remember
Half a second and eternal life
leave her alone,
she loves Moses.
and returned as trolls
Poor Meadow Poor Meadow
they howled and cajoled
Might have killed her if not for the owls
kitty's had a bath
only tigers are better looking
Hate them, hate them
into the cage she goes
One more sacrifice
One more hinge
One more
Medicine saw a bat
some saw swallow,
The vortex guardian gave her his hat
to sleep in
There's always tomorrow

posted on Feb, 23 2007 @ 12:52 AM
Jupiter and Mars

Always truced, never beaten and it's desperate meaning, a truce isn't a treaty.
Bow, sanguine when taut. Released, the arrow makes a mark.
You threw fire
fire on fire
and beat her, you beat her
bruised her face and pulled out hair
threw her down
and she moaned in pleasure
when you took her there
because she'd always been your lover
little familiar that dogged your heels
sleepy doe eyed muse
heavy loins and night
happy with fever
burnt in a fire
you set upon yourself.
She flew to the purple planet under the black sky
to the white altar
into the stone
and the giants
bowed their heads.

posted on Feb, 26 2007 @ 01:16 AM

A question
Hard scrabbled upon
retention of a question
always hypothetical intergalactic
rumination on the trajectory
of the spinning spheres
as though your little grappling hooks
can master the sheer
breaking so easily
the little incessant twittering
of the chicks as they are born
singe the beak and clip the toes
easy for you with those
Circumvented, refocused and preempted
a dying world needs Moses
parting with red seas
Fallen soldiers
empty medal racks
propping up the feat
not these, other's intervene
the last of
the three rings.

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