An Ode To Little Professor

The little professors of the English households they travel, they know it all, they believe they know governments, and all the characters. Wake up you are fools, you know them not.  For it is all a psychological con, the con of control.  For you are being gathered and controlled in a new Orwellian state a state of spies. Lock down gives time to sort the wheat from the chaff. But don’t forget we are all one world and not an eccentric folly. Promoted by silly ex public schoolboys who read the papers for breakfast.

New Poems Voiced Look Through Me & Silence & Grace

Look Through Me, voiced by Maria Cusick.

Look through me like a god, you know I trust you. Implicit are those eyes shining under the conspirators mantle. We are to believe you as a father figure, as sky universe and all that befalls us. In turgid times wandering to the cliff edge, decanted, to the beach. Washed with an outgoing tide down to another life unseen.

Silence & Grace.

Silence and Grace ice death. All still, but water runs and streams, make rivers that flow out to the sea. One day they may come back and leave another upon this sandy shore, as the tide comes in. Sunrise the following day, you are but an empty shell on the sand. You grow and run away to who knows where. But the past will not follow you, to be born midway. Childhood will not be revisited suffer no more.

From The Fish

And so we came from the fish climbing the bank and there after came us, presumably as in evolution in the defendants of the rhythm of life in the millions of couplings, to this point, we have come with no further roads to know.  Other than that of the chaos and confusions we see and feel. We wait for the flood and a solitary Lilly floating once more to establish a root race further than now. I leave you with this thought, out there in the wilderness, for this moment in time, of the now, before the morrow comes. Wading water, high in the flow of the conscience that births us to the roots of creation.

There Is A Voice & For You As Restless Animals.

There is a voice, there is an energy, we cannot see sometimes. It hits, other times, it misses and most fail to see it is shielded by negative thoughts, it remains hidden untapped, until that moment of desperation arrives all at once.  We ask may I see the light, may I discover the energy. For this eternal display of the one, a lifetime in ignorance, is no good, a lifetime without love energy is worse, it is a destroyer of spirit for the soul, there will never be peace, until there is harmony.  At this moment humans show none of it only an obsession with self opinionated views, the results we observe are most questionable the cost to the innocent and meek incalculable.

For You As Restless Animals

Humans no happy ground for you, as restless animals.  You are stomping your ground in a pointless exercise, it will all be done one day. So will you be vigilant lest you die, only mountain tops are safe. But cold are they, you need to kindle a large fire and use slowly your rations. Be prepared they are coming be gone before that time… go…GO FAR.

We Endure

Many temples in the sacred ground of the Shed. Strange, uneven, wonky things, the flicker in the flame of peace. A shadow of the one still inside, not quite dead, but ascending in universal white light of purity and of reason, as was promised, leave this world behind. Creation, preservation, transmigration, she is the new Temple throughout the land, but only room for one to spread light to all, in a now dark world we endure.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive