Disheveled Ignorance

Lines blur as energies emancipate,

Time becomes just an artifact clinging to the nail,

While we are all made of flesh and red is the

Color of blood, the hand of the present hour darkens the premise that commingles with the air…

Mankind is blue on the inside…

Stereotypes distort the freedom our forefathers so selflessly fought for…

Castes depress the potential from perhaps the most brilliant of minds… but never mind…do not be concerned, with that does not defect you….keep on blinking…as innocence is belied…forced to till the fields at dawn…until sweat merges with the blood of the never spawned…

Platelets…meshing in skewered coercion

Marrow…corroding reality, separating the sinew from the bones broken during a midday matinee…in dream…we flail

Yet we are capable of so much more…more than shaking ourselves clean and clear…we are leagues better than those that witness the warped branches of the abhorred…perhaps even smiling as we avert our eyes

And then from those trees, where no leaf shall ever grow again, we may sigh…wondering where the breath begins…

An Octet of Jinn

An Octet of Jinn,

Breathes as both

Beast & man—

Capable of enacting

The roles for/of either

Good and/or Bad

As one would expect—

A balance could

To each the charm,

The myth, the might,

Cloaked in veils of lotus flaked

That together they can form

A divinity of petals,

Residing inside the skulls of man

Leaving us,

 a reminder of

The micro & macrocosms

Of God,      alive in      each of us.

Obvious

I’m not an activist,

Yet believe in the activity

Of the worthwhile cause

I’m not vaudevillian in any way,

Yet believe men wear masks

When in need

I’m not akin to the color green

Yet love the way the earth can sing

When sowed with seeds of future’s free

I’m not an assassin in any way,

Yet in the desert I’ve whet

SOME WOULD SAY, my heart does bleed

         And, well, tactlessly, I might reply

“Bloody Obvious…don’t cha think?

And I’ve walked…

And I’ve ran…away

                  As some things, are simply not meant for view

Noah's Displaced Home For Abusive Boys and Girls

There is a voyager

And he’s but one of many

Taking leave

To the planet Noah

Two by two

Four by four

Sixteen by sixteen

Deep

Wide

Width

Height

Hypotenuse of constrictor coils

 Heat’s arousal; a spark to life-

 A warmth Un-foiled in the kindliest of fashions

Sifting through those early sands

In a time before the eggshells ran

 Man had a theory all his own

Created, was a world

In which (he) or (she) breathes a lungful heavenly…

Only to feel nothing, as the onyx fills the frame,

And the last of the bronchi, dye yet a deeper shade of gray

 Ages it seems now,

 Ages long ago,

When the rivers were rivers

And not reminders and slivers

Of a world…

                  Where even the reapers fear to play

Have we evolved to such a place?

                                    Do we still try to take his place?

Have we not learned well enough?

        

With all the falters and flaws and

                  The guffaws and scars and

                           The withered replications

                                    Of thought on what ought be done

When a second split would stake the view

 Easily showing what hacks oft never know

         That behind the clever and the strong

Usually it all simply

         Turns out

                  Oh, so very wrong

And after all,

What’s so difficult in

Simply living and loving

The way we were made to do?

The Henchmen of a Midnight Bible

Hordes of henchmen huddle forth

Amassed en route to the north

Foragers aware of the soil moist

Breaking bread but not by choice

Indignant to the acts be done

By hammer falls the glassed rung

Turning eyes from damage sung

Clearing conscience of violence by hand

As hands be tied, they are but pawns

By slippered slopes the grave doth turn

Unfettered folds of serpents churn

Wriggling round the brackish beguiled

Strapped to wood amidst the minds denial

Prayers in voice unknown to most

Repeat of straps berate for cost

A penalty for their part in a war not yet lost

Blackening the skin

Drowning in sin

Catching breath as throats plagued by fire

To weathered ends, moral men bend in ire

Darkened dungeon ways ransack

With blossomed greys pinned down black

The beasts & dragons obey; attack

Solidified by stones of clay

To rest upon worms of prey

To remain unconscious of the damage spurred

Peons dream what might be should damage be incurred

For freedom liberties repeal

To bind your dears a Shangri-La that’s real

In times of piracy the wills undone

Corrupted by the forces of a blackened sun

Near a midnight bible stays

A sphere of influential waves

With uncanny knack arranging sound

Into patterns you knead to hear

No matter time, no matter fear

The weakened captive eventually releases ground

An exonerating shield

For the true nature you’ve revealed

Water-board

Crested spore

Ennui can’t wait no more

Water-board

Crested spore

Never shall the actions be report

In this game of tactical sport

To whom the answers go

Is not for you or I to know

Perhaps secrecies, as mere mortals,

Hold details we aren’t meant to learn

Perhaps privacy is an element of concern

Perhaps some things we should choose to ignore

Like the Hordes of henchmen

Huddled forth

Breaking bread

With a devil

That’s different than before