The goddess Fate, Of dreams and visions made. With puppet lives, Is her poker played. She laughs, she snarls, She grins an’s gone. Her game is done, Not her last card drawn. Fate’s given up, ‘For she’s won. Her lucks not near. Her rein is done. The table’s vacant, The king of jewels: He stares up at the night… Taken the route of fools. Lady Fate, in darkness, lost,...
The man looked at the world from afar, As one must do to see how we really are. He stared in pure amazement at what he had seen, The world was so shallow, the world was so mean. “What can I do?” the hefty man asked while rubbing his brow- “The world is so very cruel as of right now.” The children were sad and dying by their own hand,...
What ahead I look What behind I see What before I hide What again I will What above I doubt What below I dare What around I think What inside I know What really I am What lives I do
It is a very solitary being, It has a solitary life. It has longed stop breathing. It has since met no strife. It has ripped away dreams. It knows exactly its destruction. It has performed flawlessly… Never committed a malfunction. It’s a very cold sort of thing, It has no heart, to say the least, It is a very lonely thing, There is no companion for the beast. Its task is shunned by millions,...
I do not smile at the world, I look it plainly in the eye. I do not accepts its pat remarks, I press it for the “why”. I do not appease the world, I dare it to reach new heights. The world and I do not agree, And against my mind it fights. It hammers at my emotion, It serves up its best lust, I dare not to give in,...
I lead men who, for you, fight Provide assurance that war is right They come to me at times, scared Fearing an end many soldiers have shared They look to me for reason and will After ‘serving’ has lost its thrill Many young, too young; I hate to see. These strong young men cry to me. I recite our goal, extend a hand… Assure them safe return is planned....
In pitch-black rooms were shadows are cast- With futures so black they can’t see their past, Surrounded in nothing, with only self to amuse, Where there’s no other person or substance to abuse, When the gate keeper never appears, And you’re stuck only with forever to look over your years, When the silent voice inside your head, Reveals to you that you are dead… What then I ask: when you cannot die for living?...
The brown-green moss atop a pool of muddy water Stagnantly trickles through a mixture of pines and cypress. Amidst the brown water, eyes peer at the birds on the banks And the eyes swiftly propel themselves about the mocha streams. The tall, white birds leap headfirst into the water- And return from the splash with a mouthful of fish. From the trees, a doe trots to the bank, Startling the bird; and then reaching down to sip the bayou....
In a backwards world full of love, With Heaven below and Hell above, There undoubtedly would be space to spare in the latter, And life and liberty and happiness wouldn’t matter; They would be given, never achieved. Only laughter would resonate from those who have grieved. In a backwards world full of acceptance, With churches for criminals and jails for repentance, There’d be more giving – no stealing or lying,...
another child of clay was born to us today mold it as we say so it can live one day in our world of grey strip it of its smile earnestness is style its red cheeks are vile white in a short while make it fit our pro-file success in work and prayer content that life’s not fair just strong enough to bear our never-ceasing stare too weak to really care...