A New Collection of Poems Just For You…

Forget

Forget and see what there is today, look to the horizon. Build in your mind anew, forget the dead and gone. It will serve you not, we are called by cold dark histories. When there is air now and things to see and do cast of the mind shackles, shake off the dust, walk, breath, pray. All the way. The change will come but only the will. Your will can change anything.

Nevis the Spider

The rise of Nevis the spider suckered in my room and a storm was revealing itself outside the twinkle and spangle of facets. Before I fixated was I, to the point of no movement the Tiffy bedside lamp casting a shadow or two in the chamber of the shadowed shack, but then along came Nevis the spider mini monster with all his legs. Six of the most versatile, the climbing small mountaineer on a mission in my room.  Very slowly Nevis crept along like a professional burglar obsessed I thought I was clever until I observed Nevis the spider. I hope he found his way home with his Alien eyes to the coving corner in my winter room and into his safety net of micro steel web, a clever fortress of minute complexity.

Come In

Come in, take your clothes off there are no flies on us, brush everything away all this as the sun rises, sit down say a woman you cannot stand there, it’s not easy I promise we aren’t taking a rise from your presence. You have come here to disown yourself. I see the hairs upon your back rising, yes the world is in a pickle and as you are now nothing it will clearly stick upon your person, we have unity here in our vulnerable state, we suggest all leaders of the world be the same as us in one room then at least we can all laugh at how absurd we all are.

Cosmic Masters

Cosmic masters to earth control, the bricks are down, the great leveling has begun. Since the dawn of time property had been the demarcation of division between all people coupled with complicated religions. Control death and destruction steer the course of a link in the mind of man. A part of man’s mind required alteration for the vacant mind of man had caught the attention of the creator an energy cube far in the universe. It was time for change upon our known own falsities upon earth unable to tolerate one another. People had run amock greed being the priority that was all humans could think of, politicians had diseased collective mind protecting their forever land, an impervious mindset setting mere mortals minds into rage and hate. Status reproducing and fornication are the only damaging hobby body art becomes status and vanity explode. Cosmic intervention had become necessary so this leveling had to be, became known as the cosmic evaluation of people by the great master. Adepts upon earth had to breathe once more.

The Neutral Blanket

The neutral blanket that was the day when all the days crammed into one and they collided, time had been running so fast, it was as if time itself was running away. But to what destination the period in time seemed to be rushing to a conclusion. There was to be an intervention but it would not be of this world it had to come from another, I watched the sand timer from my chair with a fire blazing and wood crackling. Flames of personalities dancing shapes, visions, horrors, all in the mix tortured spirits too many to count shapeshifting in front of my hooded eyelids, I concluded that civilization which it is now had to go to sleep and depart its ugly history and upon the time of the morrow refreshing warm breezes would come and harmony with her friend peace would join in unity.

I Am Table

Lots of recycling going on as it happens thought about recycling myself wondered what would happen, first of all, I have to destroy myself and be broken into bits, an old friend dragged me to be remade but not sure how it would come out apparently I am now the first talking dining table I can even move ready for tea, how about that.

Sandpaper

Sandpaper upon granite, that’s where we are, the walls we cannot penetrate all too often at humanity’s loss. So many poor smashed against the wall absorbed in eternal soil lost under the plough, coming out as something else and the cold castles of pomp and indifference still stand on the militant ground leaving the meek and lonely sad, tell me where is the benevolent energy. God or is it eternity that rises and falls and the rest forever a timeless sea of peace.

Once Upon

Once upon a long time ago, we had a life, we had a show, we were in it we were there. The sun came out for the day we sat up without a thought and often just walked away. Now we are held down not able to move there is control the coercion of the evils, presents as a magnetic force nearly down to the last human. A few escaped but fear for their lives and some indeed live underground and can secretly walk to another world leaving all others behind.

 

 

Author: Mason Cult Poet

Mason Cult Poet was born in Westmorland in the Lake District in a farming engineering community. On one side of the family many portions of nobility mainly the Stuarts. Mason Cult did as the herd does and went through the education process. attended drama school and ran small businesses. The stigma of mental health issues blighted him as it does with all creative people, was diagnosed in 2011 with a form of Asperger’s Syndrome which can impair executive function however it has given him a higher sense to see what others do not and from this ability he concludes the world is controlled by esoteric forces and that other interventions operate steering the world we know ro a new beginning.. What we witness we are forced to challenge and the work of Mason Cult assists this

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