Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Liar, lyer... pants on fire.

Oh I know the liars in their jest,
are tidily doing what they know best.

Some are skilled and smooth as silk,
stoking the auger of the other's ilk
while boring the cavern's of ancient ties
and secretly stowing the past with lies.

The All Knowing spies.

And then there are the blatant ones
who promise their lies with skull and bones.
Arrrgh, the jaunty pirate lives and speaks
in the tongues of what his mate hand seeks.

Let sleeping dogs lie... we can shear them

as we're in cahoots with their spies. Later Vader.

The tale goes on for many years as the kids
lie bleating year after year. A pack of lies is
the belief that is dear to the goat of the past
and all of his seers... tiny little puppets
who don't mean a thing, just sad little egos
who forgot how to sing... lyers are leading.

Somewhere out in a white streamer sky,
a lyre is waiting for clouds to roll by.
The fire is burning, and chaos is churning
but the meek are waiting for the perfect sigh.

It's the cusp of burning pants that needs to burn dry.

Is it a lyre or harp that meek angels will play?
(or a tiny voice that will sing this away).


Friday, January 20, 2017

One last trumpet blast

Oh, the angels of heaven will have their way
to encourage yet, another uninspiring day.
We have a new chieftain, must to a many dismay.

I watched and i saw the new sworn king, who was
brought to the servants as the news-worn changeling.

He was true to his word to the broken dishearted,
no kinds words for those of the dearly departed.
A give back to those who believed in him, a song
of the patriot that lives within, "I know the evil ones
and they are not your kin. I'm here to lead you out
of their sin." A final trumpet blast, to a cheap and
tawdry past.

Well, if the seventh seal is broken and what comes next, is
there a new found chapter in a broken old text... who is the dragon
to be chained at the ocean? and where are the children who
rise out of devotion? Revelry is the revealer of mockery.

I want to be fair and i want to be kind...
it's all a fine matter to time out of mind.

So the first time I heard of a president, was when
I was five, in a schoolyard, with crying mothers
lamenting a loss... what is a president I asked, (at a loss)?

"He is like the king of our country," a kind mom sobbed.
I was in the midst of a brutalized mob. At home it was worse,
for no dinner was served, there was TV coverage of a veil of tears,
from a child's salute to the hearse of flagged coffin... more fears. Ohhh,
a president was
not some local resident.

Maybe after all these years, with ginned up hopes and veils of fears...
a president will take over the reins and with his rhetoric of patriot
claims, will set new records with his gains...
a young heart will be watching, to see if this king remains.

Or if the seventh seal prophecy reclaims... a dragon at the bottom of the sea,
bounded in chains... New uncertainty is a light unrestrained... (said the lamprey).

Hope is a dream of our Unity. We shall see.
Hope for the best for humane sanity.