Jesus – Page 4 – The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive

Mason Cult the Cruel Misuse of Land.

For all known time so called man and some women have taught and claimed land territory, whether in democracy or eventual dictatorship. It has happened, the politics of the one person state. We know who the examples are, no need to go into that one. However with that said, along comes starvation and mass exodus, those affected fleeing to countries that are already overcrowded.

In some cases people flee from famine ravaged countries, but some do not and that usually comes down to those countries occupied by evil regimes. They are in many ways occupiers of fertile lands. This seems to indicate that the human race doesn’t deserve the title of human, when the real facts are that of misuse of fertile underdeveloped landmasses, that are halted by either dictatorships with inhuman leaders or poor countries. Kept poor by agricultural ineptitude lack of investment and beyond this, it becomes simply obvious that millions of lives crammed together in overdeveloped cities and towns are going to fail and this does fuel interracial tension, of which, in developed countries there should be none in the year 2020.

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.

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.

But I Wait For a Sign

I do not believe in anything but I wait for a sign, no distinctive movement for the decent, the concerned, the worried, those who lie awake. Feeling helpless at what to believe, the sky, the sun, are relentless every hour. The torturers come the media, the propaganda, and millions of mistrustful beings, tied to the cult of self. The Egyptian female obsession with the Cleopatra look, body distortion beyond any sense of safety or reason. The decent amongst us lie to our children and say it will be alright. Whilst they fret at what to believe coming from clever British politicians, from the same route and mould. But do not worry ordinary people will be back and maybe the lonely and vulnerable will find a friend that will make them live for another day. Amongst this world’s illness and grief your God will indeed come through the clouds and absorb your panic and dissolution, Amen for now, but not for ever more.