Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
ConnectHook Jul 2018
Evil empires, controlled by banks;
Committee mandates enforced with tanks,
Sociopaths on the Left and the Right
Prepare for your own eternal night . . .
Those who do not know their own history are doomed to watch YouTube all day long ☺
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Sustainably globally gay – we need more of it / socially-conscious progressive group-think / openness through tolerance of diversity in perversity / justice for more more more of gay gay gay / it’s progress it’s now its queer-friendly because it's sustainably globally gay / when gay gets gayer the queering gets clearer / so let's start the conversation about ****-**** gayness / inclusion through cluelessness in transparent openness / by the way - get GAY / before the homosexual conversation queers the queerness of the ongoing conversation / let's celebrate gayness, **OK ?
Did I mention the need for openness and tolerance of absolutely everything Gay? After all - they represent almost 7 percent of the population...
ConnectHook Sep 2021
Obsidian
Lanceolate
Auriculate
Ovaloid
Folsom
Clovis
Chert
Chip
V­V
V
Flaky shape-poem
for your erudite perusal
https://www.projectilepoints.net/Search/ASearch_North%20East.html
ConnectHook Aug 2020
I am for your personal freedom
To SIN and to REBEL
In any way you please.

I am for your God-given RIGHT
To be as confused as you can be
About basic biology.

You have LIBERTY
To deny your own gender . . .
But I will not celebrate you.

And when you wake up,
If it should be granted to you,
Repent and turn to CHRIST.
Once there was a society so insane it refused to acknowledge what it had between its own legs.
ConnectHook Sep 2019
I could not care less
concerning global warming.
That's YOUR religion.

I'm not interested
in your fake apocalypse.
You need to get saved.

You substituted
this silly theory of doom
for Faith and true Hope.
As tens of thousands of city school kids left free-cut opportunity to smoke ****, climate advocates can play miniature golf and go shopping to sustain political pressure on governments and companies that produce those emissions.

One of them rolled up a joint and passed it around shortly before noon.

He had no intention of joining the demonstration against fossil fuels that was getting underway.

“I mean,I thought about it, but what could I really do for the Super Lemon Haze **** vape cartridge on a hotter planet and angry at world leaders for failing to arrest the masses of young people in thousands of cities and towns worldwide?"

It was the first time that children and young people had demonstrated to demand climate action in so many places.

(Notes are a collage from 2 articles)
ConnectHook Apr 2023
When Jesus hacks the global app,
Appearing on everyone's phone
Rousing dead sinners from their nap
To pay back their outstanding loan,
Then shall we see the Savior's face
and know there is redeeming grace
.

When Messiah addresses the world
appearing simultaneously
on every channel,
every smartphone,
every device,
calling the whole earth to faith . . .

When ALL the clans of Judah,
every lost Israelite,
and all the tribes of Ismael,
with every village of Greater Ethiopia,
all Sinim and every Japethite
heed the Messianic voice—

in that day we all shall know:
Christ has not yet returned.
Happy Easter.
Christ is risen!
ConnectHook Apr 2017
Lucifer, **** of our pornified planet,
gun-running seraph, whose reign is unraveling
tries yet again to consolidate, babbling.
Heaven will **** it.

Paradigms shifting, his queendom implodes.
His cave-dwelling subjects discover true sight—
then they storm the projection-room: new light.
Dawn, delayed, forebodes.

No more denial, no more to defend
dictatorial oversight, global sedation.
The pharmacological indoctrination
has now reached its end.
NaPoWriMo #2

Take the easy way:
call it poetry. End it
like a samurai

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2017/04/02/global-fail/
ConnectHook Jan 2018
Another false prophet, another beast --
Another peace process for the Middle East . . .
Another massacre, a newer war;
A bright new scarlet global *****.
Another poem, another curse
A further plunge from worst to worse . . .
Another sociopathic brute,
Another ***** in a business suit.
Another smiling psychopath;
Another angel's bowl of wrath
Another data-driven plan
To twist yet further fallen man . . .
A bolder data-driven lie
As LUCIFER ascends the sky,
Another depression, another bust--
In MAMMON we supremely TRUST !
€£¥$ all hail MAMMON
GLOBAL ABOMINATION
lol take a selfie !
ConnectHook Jan 2020
From some random adolescent zealot:
Troubled children are the ones to sell it.
How DARE you read my couplet.
ConnectHook Oct 2017
So then the Gnostic heresies issued in one of two beliefs. They believed either that Jesus was not really divine but simply one of a series of emanations from God, or that he was not in any sense human but a kind of phantom in the shape of a man. The Gnostic beliefs at one and the same time destroyed the real godhead and the real manhood of Jesus.

from:
The Gospel of John  by William Barclay (1955)

Gnosis reveals in reverberation:
you’ve done too many **** hits.
You sprawl at the threshold of psychosis
until the shape of the song fits.

Your cannabis-flavored thoughts implode—
you glimpse the Divine Emanation
as the lesser vibrations diminish and die
now you enter the shrine of elation.

This rare revelation—imparted to you
(the neurotransmitters surge)
seems to show that you know, that you know, that you know
the deceptions of *Demiurge
. . .
Can't remember if I posted this already...
LOOK OUT for the GNOSIS !!
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Α♥Ω

GNOSIS, my friends, is alive and well,
corrupting the hearts of the masses.
They fashion a fable to fit their need until their crisis passes.
An idol from here and a text from there – just a little dabble do…
for a do-it-yourself epiphany as the counterfeit passes through.
They lose themselves in names and mantras,
thinking they’re mining gold –
while the god of this world enhances the shine of spiritual lies retold.
So get out your old Santana records, pass the **** to the left.
Listen to Jimi and Marley and worse; it will leave your soul bereft.
It’s the same old trip – the first century
has seen all of it come and go:
such transcendent explosions of heresy
are worth less than the price of the show.
In the local body of Iesous Moshiach our pastor has faithfully showed us:
nonsensical notions of Gnostic obnoxiousness
fail to enlighten – but load us
with half-truths and fantasies, cosmic conspiracies,
spiritually false revelation;
which turn on the blacklight and dazzle the mind
but maroon you in dark desolation.
So I’d like to prepare you for several short poems
exploring the way of the Gnostics.
Though I love Elaine Pagels and Demian‘s Hesse,
they fail to provide diagnostics…
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/mine/spiritual/

Α♥Ω
ConnectHook Sep 2015
You want the high lonesome brought down to earth –
the value of gold – devoid of its worth.

Like herbless reggae – or atheist Bach
like love without romance and time with no clock –

it’s smokeless jazz without the snap
buried treasure without any map.

It’s Andean flutes without the coca
Moon with no shine – un Raton sin Boca

You can’t have your culture without the Gospel
like rain without water, it’s simply impossible.

You can’t keep the tree without having roots
or gather a harvest without the fruits.

So get the hell gone with your atheist bluegrass
lest someone imply you’re an unsaved *******…
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2015/04/13/godless-bluegrass/
ConnectHook Apr 2017
God of Oprah Winfrey, hear us
let our nails now match our jewels
let thy Self-talk gurus cheer us
raising us above the fools;

plebes who don't esteem their inner
selfish motivational goals,
those who forfeit self as winner
fail to charm our worldling souls.

Dietary mysticism
helps to shed the guilt that pounds
in our temples. This baptism
in thy shallow pool resounds.

Cutting-edge sound-bites now assure
endless wardrobes. Chic pastel.
And we deserve that pedicure;
freed of Heaven, Christ, and Hell.
NaPoWriMo #13

data-driven snow
blocks all access, piled in drifts
inhuman, cold,white
ConnectHook Jan 2017
A stern Russian ruler named Vlad
made his minions and satellites glad
when he told them to choose
between true and fake news
(but the fakers still furthered the fad).
☭⛧✿ ✝ ☃ ☪ ☠ ☮ ☯ ☢ ✌ ♚

By all of these heavy-handed tactics, President Putin has not only brought Russia back into play as a world power, he has also secured his position at the nation’s helm. This world has a lot of authoritarian rulers. But Vladimir Putin is one we need to keep a particularly close eye on. His track record, his nationality and his ideology indicate that he could—and I strongly believe he will—fulfill a linchpin Bible prophecy that was recorded millennia ago.

source: thetrumpet.com (Feb 2014 ed.)
"Is Vladimir Putin the Prophesied ‘Prince of Rosh’?"
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Opiates are the Religion of the masses

The feathered victims of the pharm
Flock to lifestyles of abuse.
Fowlers pledge to do no harm
Farming that golden goose . . .

Commissions earned, increasing sales
Keep them lining up for meds.
Advertising never fails;
Pills, then meals, then beds.

Hail our nation’s clueless clients:
Cooped-up shuffling drug-addled souls
Victims of inhuman science
And its godless goals.

Lately, massive medication
Sold to help us all relax
Stupefies a toxic nation
Johnson and Johnsoned to the max

Getting Sacklered, Pfizering out
Astra-Zenecaed to the gills
Facts which ought to make you doubt
Waiting for re-fills.

Perhaps you should not medicate
Nor fill the coffers of the rich
When Psychiatry serves the state
its patients to bewitch…
Don't **** the goose that lays golden eggs
ConnectHook Oct 2024
Oh Trump's a ****, you're a ****, I'm a **** too!
Elect the führer/chancellor: the righteous thing to do.
He's got fantastic plans for us, like jobs and close the border.
He'll stop those endless foreign wars. I'm down with Trump's New Order.

Neurotic whiners may despise this dawning glorious day;
They might mistake it for the night and fight it all the way.
Well, let them disembark the train... and call us names again.
We're used to childish temper-tantrums. Christ is King. Amen.

Of course, they may miscount those votes, then stir up revolution.
Or astroturf a civil war,  their desperate solution.
But what would you expect from those who can't tell girls from boys...
Or light from dark or truth from lies or music from foul noise?

So let them whine and plot and seethe. They've done this act before.
We racist nazis know their brand. Vote TRUMP. Then vote some more.
And if the minions skew results-- well, God's still on His throne.
The U.S. gets what she deserves when Truth is overthrown.
Big Daddy Trump will give us all free money and candy. YAY !
ConnectHook May 2018
OCCUPY  INTERSECTIONALITY!

OCCUPY  SAFE SPACES!

OCCUPY  ANTICHRIST!

SUBVERT OCCUPATION!

          (Kiss your own ***)
Highbrow religion:
the New York Times Book Review
you progressive, you.
ConnectHook Aug 2019
How can "parents"
Allow their daughters
To waddle around
In hotpants
Or sweats
With dubious messages
Printed on their ***?

What do they expect...
And why should they react
When I ask the little lady
To bend over and hold it
So I can read it?
Zombie parents and little putas:
such people are devoid of discernment
ConnectHook Jul 2019
A wry no-sir-opoulos:
Saint George Papadopoulos.
Support from the populace
Enhances the obvious;
To frame him seems frivolous
The plot grows ridiculous
The slander more bellicose
Delusions wax grandiose.
Fake News tried to topple us
With George Stephanopoulos.
Things are getting crazier everyday,
by George...
ConnectHook Apr 2021
My cutting tool has lost its edge.

This cutlery is rusted.

   Not because it is growing old,

but because it is growing disgusted.
My REAL day 5 of NaPoWriMo
ConnectHook Jun 2020
bite back
white fright
white flack
black blight
lack light
light right
black rise
white lies
black lies
right rise
white right
night light
black flies
bright white
white ring wising
black light rising
bright black
horticultural/luminary imagery
ConnectHook Jul 2023
Gertrude Stein, you unreadable *****;
Lie back in your sty and I’ll scratch your itch.
I’ll water your trough so you can swill
Vapid verbiage till you’ve had your fill.
Your abstract expressions, while short of profound,
Could almost drive me to Ezra Pound…
Roll over in hell. You’re a rambling twit.
I’m Alice B. Toklas-ed, and tired of it.
Roll over, I say. Let them roast you some more;
Demons agree—you’re a well-lettered BORE.
They destroyed the common use of language.
Normal ways of using words bored them.
They wished to use words in a new, sensational fashion.
They twisted grammar, syntax.
                                         (Michael Gold: The New Masses)
https://writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stein-per-gold.html
ConnectHook Sep 2017
Yo soy un hombre sincero
de donde crece la palma
y antes de morilme
quiero mejoral mi kalma ...
Pidiéndole perdón a José Martí
ConnectHook Dec 2020
bot-generated:
most of these comments, poets,
bot-generated.
Just like most comments on CensorTube
ConnectHook Jun 2021
Your cold rigid corpse
Face in a stupid grimace:
My greatest haiku.
I will CRUSH you.

(poetically)
ConnectHook Apr 2017
Let me ask you this:
Got a yen for bad Haiku?
Well then... stick around.

How do I love thee?
Let me count the syllables
In my bad Haiku

Take the easy way:
call it poetry. End it
like a samurai

Haiku is a crone
dressed in ragged kimono
bolting down her rice

The useless Haiku:
silly Japanese verse form.
Formula for dull.

Haiku, like Manga,
destroys the attention span
making people dumb

Some still remember
propagandist Tokyo Rose.
(Write one about her !)
God I can't stand Haiku....
ConnectHook Jul 2018
You may find it hard
to admit you're a sinner . . .
but that is the key.


Your rebellious pride
has blinded you to the truth:
the shed blood of Christ.


There is a heaven
and there is also a hell.
Jesus told no lies.
Poetry ought to be comprehensible IMO
ConnectHook Apr 2016
∅☢☯✰✿⚥∅☯✰✿☠☯✰

Religion, you harlot and ****** of the masses

I smell the stagnation you bring upon earth.

Gold becomes lead, in stained roseate glasses

diluting, corrupting, negating its worth.

Hierarchical structure and pseudo-anointing

seem holy— but prove antithetic to Christ

whose transparently sure apostolic appointing

began a new age, and sufficed.

I renounce you, religion. Your temples lie fallen…

the future arises from ruins, ever new.

Mere human unrighteous momentum must stall

when the truth spins around into view.

He was scorned, he was vilified; slain for your sin

Abrahamic philosopher, healer and friend

yet perceived as demoniac right to the end.

His beginning is here in your heart. Never fear:

Dead religion must perish for true love to win.

Hermeneutics imploding—His coming is near

a poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016

www.connecthook.wordpress.com
ConnectHook Apr 2018
We’ll give GOD credit
while you shriek: humanity !
On it must go—
dialectic insanity.
You have been programmed
for dumbed-down diversity:
Feminization
through global perversity.
Femininity
is a God-given blessing.
Appreciate it.
ConnectHook Oct 2018
The cold night of All Hallows draws near
though the reason is somewhat less clear;
The reigning esthetic
is Gothic-Poetic
and sugar eclipses all fear . . .

The idea that spirits abound,
that The Dead ever hover around,
is a lie straight from Hell
and a fable to sell
souls and sugar, per ounce and per pound.

Halloween: put a mask on the mess.
As a nation, we ought to confess
that our sin’s overflowing;
our evil is showing—
we’re due for a trick, I would guess.

Using candy, they settle the score:
secret weapon in Lucifer‘s war
for this treat dietetic
we’re pre-diabetic,
dressed up as the ghosts that we are.
All Hallows Even 2018
The night before All Saints Day
AKA Reformation Day in some Protestant Nations
ConnectHook Apr 2020
Eternal salvation’s a gift

From a righteous young maid in a shift

Who had never been laid;

By God’s Spirit: hand-made

was her baby, our burdens to lift.
PROMPT #20: write a poem about a handmade gift that you have received.

I spent this afternoon watching SHE (1965 Hammer version) with my daughter because I was dreading trying to rise to the challenge of this prompt. I wound up with a half-baked limerick based on Luke 1:37, 38
"For with God nothing shall be impossible.
And Mary said,
Behold the handmaid of the Lord;
be it unto me according to thy word.
And the angel departed from her."
ConnectHook Sep 2015
☺☻╬☻

Finish the crackers --- grab a smoke . . .
of Ferguson my muse will sing.
A call to arms --- God’s fires to stoke;
let Truth and Freedom ring!

Take to the streets; avenge this wrong
and hasten the end of racist rule.
Justice, though it may tarry long
will find its target in the duel.

Young Michael Brown, like all true saints
found himself craving Swisher Sweets.
He robbed a store, whose camera paints
impartial portrait. In the streets

the thief refused to be detained
and so threw off police restraint.
Though sin escaped, the Law remained
and made a martyr of this saint.

The agitators did their thing:
inflaming thugs to smash and loot,
while racists baited hooks, to string
the press. Officials followed suit.

Angels, although not always kind,
do not display this attitude –
aware of how the police mind
responds to such ingratitude.

We ought to thank the police force
for showing mercy under stress.
The culprit chose a foolish course
and made a God-awful mess.

Prince Michael met ignoble fate
(that ghetto-Christ, that righteous youth)
His sacrifice in vain --- though great,
could not impede the march of Truth.

Ferguson, our eyes turn towards you . . .
are you now able to admit
while reality rewards you
that looting and lying ain’t ****?
¡ Hypocrite readers -  I salute you !
almost a thousand have read this immortal screed and not ONE of you
dares to LIKE it. Poetic wusses all. Social Justice is on the way.
☻ ?  ☻
ConnectHook Apr 2016
♪☺☻☺♪

Free verse was captured,
confined to a cell
by readers unraptured
in modernist hell.

And there he did languish
while chained to the wall
and desperate in anguish
gave forth a last call:

“Listen and read me—
my muse is the best!
Applaud and then feed me,
your starving guest !

Don’t fall for that beat…
Please ignore their old line.
I’m here. I’m effete.
I’m a modern divine…

I like it in prison
No, really — I’m free!”
(But his lock was awaiting
Your Readership’s key.

For the moderns all lie,
as your readership knows;
Modern poets don’t die—
they just decompose.)
a poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016

www.connecthook.wordpress.com
ConnectHook Apr 2020
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree . . .


                                               Coleridge:­ Kubla Khan


Sheba’s ghost, lamenting, wails for Yemen:

Her incense trees are lacerated, scarred.

Sapped for their fragrance, drained of life and marred . . .

Their smoking blood offered up to heaven.

No sinuous rills flow forth to bless the dead;

Beneath her ruined dam no gardens grow;

And Bedouins only sing of what they know

In wastelands of the nomad past. It’s said

That all those spices, all that golden smoke

and irrigated dreams beneath the sand

were just a subtle Solomonic joke.

The yearly weight of gold, the camel-trains,

Are cryptic numbers—chanted in refrains

That only Marib’s phantoms understand.
Day 4 prompt: write a poem inspired by a dream

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Kings%2010%3A14&version=KJV;NIV
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Strange brew, **** what’s inside of you...
                                                            Cr­eam

Surrounded by militant forms of Dumb;
To whose next rage must we succumb?
What ethnic-racial god of wrath
Will plunge us in his ****** bath
And wash foul whiteness from our souls
To further ****** madmen’s goals?
YaHuWaHusha (hashtag #hate)
Has henchmen waiting at the gate
Misquoting scriptures, twisting phrases
Forcing words to march through mazes,
Quite assured they possess the key
To set their dark asylum free.
Babylon’s falling. Drain the cup.
Will the real Judah please stand up?
Crowns, purple aprons, boots on feet
Wash brains in scripture. Rinse. Repeat.
Their mind a concentration camp,
Hateful doctrines burn: their lamp
Now flickers, low on Israel-light.
God’s thugs are looking for a fight—
Whoever they hate is a Canaanite.
PROMPT #11: write a poem that takes as its starting point something overheard

Purple-haired woman: your robes look totally stupid and you’re blocking the sidewalk—by the way this is hate speech you know

Hebrew Israelite king: Brother Judah ben Judah, read the scriptures to this Edomite lady
ConnectHook Jun 2019
You have not yet read

My best.
Proving once again that HP readers will read the most vapid of scrawlings rather than deal with actual POETRY

Have a nice day ☺
ConnectHook Sep 2015
†           †           †    

When the ****** lost souls are voided
into the abyss of hell
I hope to have avoided
that last death-knell.

The blood of Christ assures me
that such can be admitted.
I pray it sanctifies me –
desires permitted.

They preach of joy unending
of sheer expanding praise,
but the unseen evidence lingers:
my carnal ways:

I flash on astral hotties
(the flames that life denied)
among celestial bodies
beyond the great divide.

I muse on raptured virgins;
Christ’s parables made flesh
and my unspoken longings
unveiled and fresh.

I long to know profoundly
the promised stellar faces –
or sleep so deep,  so soundly
no dreams leave traces.

My hopes for that dimension
alloyed with base designs
grow vague. Incomprehension
misreads the signs.
Version w/signage:

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2014/04/27/heaven/

   †           †           †
ConnectHook May 2021
I want to see you there because

I want to walk with you to the river . . .

where friendship resumes forever

and conversation flows on, after a pause

of decades, flowing on as light appears . . .

In eternity, a short space of lifetimes or years

is reason to laugh

because it means nothing.


If you are not in heaven

when time ends

Heaven will be the less for it.

Please be there with me

to resume all things.
lilo

n. a friendship that can lie dormant for years only to pick right back up instantly,
as if no time had passed since you last saw each other.
ConnectHook Jul 2020
When the truth finally hits, it hits big.
While condemning the chauvinist pig,
Do not fall for that line
That St. George was divine;
More a drug-addled player, you dig?
Though he was murdered brutally, nobody is aware of St. George’s Criminal Past Record/Arrest Timeline for armed robbery, pointing a gun at a pregnant woman and being involved in ******* charges.
ConnectHook Apr 2016
✿   ✿   ✿


Haiku is not true

poetry by any means:

formulaic = dull

Take a haiku (yawn...)

a  poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016

www.connecthook.wordpress.com
ConnectHook Sep 2015
तत् त्वम् असि

for sitar, mridangam, vina, musical spoons,
washboard, Jew’s harp and banjo


(the names Swami and Guru-ji can be replaced by
any other mystic names the reader wishes to substitute
)

Swami and Guru-ji went to the river
to wash their souls in the ***** water
filled brass pots while they were at it, singing:

“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji flexed contortions
twisted minds and limbs in knots
sold each other secret mantras
to erase akashic records when the body rots

Swami and Guru-ji taught disciples
how to fast and hum and chant;
bound their ***** with priestly garments, saying

“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji swallowed prana
purged their guts, then farted light
launched their chakras into oneness
in the ida and pingala of their third-eye sight

Swami and Guru-ji built a temple
around a monstrous calf of gold
bowed before the six-armed idols chanting

“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji studied parchments
by the dim light of a feeble ray
railed and wailed at the sinful  heathen
in the filthy Kali-yuga of the dying day

Swami and Guru-ji made ablutions
offered incense and holy foods
ate their share and smoked the profit, humming

“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami’s blissed devotions
entwined their members with the temple belles;
stuck their yonis up their lingams
in the twenty-seventh circle of the seven hells.

Swami and Guru-ji offered puja
wrote it all off as a karmic debt –
forced a shudra to bear the burden, screaming

“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji meditated:
pure omniscience in eternal now –
drank fresh ***** from a heifer’s  bladder
for they knew that it was soma from a holy cow.

Swami and the Guru merged with Brahman –
then went home to the wife and kids.
Told the servants to polish statues, saying

“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”


THE MORAL:
(slower solemn rhythm, no banjo or Jew’s harp)

Aaron’s calf is ground to powder,
cast upon the Ganges’ tide.
Every tribe shall taste its poison.

“This is God –worship Him, worship Him –
this is God – let us worship Him now…”
attain instant enlightenment:
ConnectHook Oct 2015
Our Lord was dazed from the red –
then raised from the dead.

Faith dies in the room – only to rise in the doom.

Taught… captured:  they roll the stone away.
Caught… raptured. (He stole their own away.)

Tempt ye the womb?
Empty the tomb!
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2015/08/17/holy-wordcraft/
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Bright child of the Tarot, a new age awaits you –

but not through the mazes you’re wandering in.

Your gypsy desire and clairvoyant excursions

are setting your beautiful brain all a-spin.

The dog at the precipice barks out a warning:

the FOOL, the MAGICIAN and PRIESTESS are wrong

Pay no heed to their signs and the omens around you –

let faith be your shield when the DEVIL seems strong.

JUSTICE, as blind as the HERMIT is *****,

has seen that our TOWER is stricken and doomed.

The SUN, MOON and STARS in their orbits bear witness

as LOVERS  in ******* to DEATH are consumed…

Egypt can’t help you – the CHARIOT‘s  stalled

While the TEMPERANCE angel was mixing the drinks.

The EMPRESS (a tedious feminist) preaches

an upside down future, the HANGED MAN thinks…

Though the WHEEL almost crushes you turning this way

And the staff of correction has battered you hard

I am sure you will make it, if only you pray

to the sovereign elector who holds every card

for a ray of redemption to light up your way.

Let the major arcana now bow and acknowledge

as  JUDGMENT is sounded and shatters the sky

that righteous and just is the blessed Redeemer

who loves every lunatic card-addled dreamer

like you and like me. Therefore hear as I cry

that the WORLD in its fulness can’t harbor His love –

nor the heavens within nor without nor above…

May the HIEROPHANT‘s dynasty wither away

and the EMPEROR‘s  scepter be broken to shards

as the breath of God’s Spirit comes into our world

to reveal the true STRENGTH of your house made of cards.
http://perdurabo10.tripod.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/carte.gif
ConnectHook Aug 2023
I do not care to
interact
with chatbots.

What a fake poetry site....
ConnectHook Jun 2022
Salvador Salvador had a bad day.
Salvador Salvador made no delay.
All the policemen so rugged and rough,
Couldn't **** Salvador quickly enough . . .
More teachers and educators should be armed.
Also: don't leave doors open for bad people.
ConnectHook Oct 2015
Oh Language, where hast thou hid thyself?
Thy once-bright spires decline to dust.
The calm, well-reasoned flow of wisdom
a bygone memory. I’ll not trust
these tween-to-twenty-something’s prattle;
endless babble of self-absorption
centered in pleasure-maximizing:
narcissistic thought-abortion.
Dude—they’re SO not app’ed for language
used by dad ten years ago.
I’m totally DONE with their, like, verbiage
They’re all: Smartphone Teenage Show.
It’s just, like, TALKING—without words
in language ghettos; texting proud . . .
Their lack of precision offends my brain—
They ought to be ashamed (out loud).

Vygotsky’s vaunted Z.P.D,
and Bakhtin’s heteroglossic crack
along with Roland Barthe’s pet parrot
Are SO like totally talking smack.
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2014/03/15/hung-on-a-psychosociolinguistic-scaffold/

ZPD ZPD ZPD ZPD ZPD
ConnectHook Sep 2015
666

The cat once killed again takes up her plume
to write in the air with a sinuous tail;
a valiant attempt at true life to resume.
Penultimate of nine? Or eighth to fail…

The literate lioness’s spectral quill
fresh-dipped in fountains of blood-red ink
(along with sharpened claws) warns: time to **** –
but God would give us all more time to think.

Although certain races and social classes
display not a trace of Curiosity,
Humanity (being higher than their *****)
should counter such donkey-like paucity.

Boredom is beastly – it burdens the mind
one should be able to sustain some good talk…
If you finally perceive they are not of your kind
then pity them. Smile – and let the dullards walk.

A good conversation (by block-heads reviled)
costs only the interest – it’s free of price!
This birthright of every man, woman and child
imparts life to variety, adding spice.

A bite on the tongue, or a shake in the pan
enlivens the food, while enhancing the taste.
Be it preaching or sophistry, blessed is the man
consuming such dishes, no wordage to waste.

Yet most are content to survive on stale bread,
or drive through for fries and a Happy Meal.
Then, quickly digested, the pleasure dead,
it’s on to the stop sign. Their tires squeal.

Attempting to talk with such silly people
whose frame of reference is mainly: What?
Can drive one to brewery, cloister, or steeple
in search of that city whose gates never shut.

When word, wit and wisdom flow out of the mouth
enjoyment sings welcome as springtime arrives.
But ignorance pushes the birds further south
re-freezing the surface of puddled lives.

If you need some assistance, go purchase a cup
or run down to the liquor-store. Brew up some tea.
Be sure that your affective filter’s not up,
grammar monitor running functionally.

Art, sports, philosophy, music or *** –
please make it a good one. The topic is moot.
Don’t bore me with shopping. Don’t mention your Ex.
But swim to the deep end or bend for my boot.

The cat is now road-****, her mission has failed.
One *****-life left. Let your next chat count.
Don’t claim that you didn’t know what it entailed,
were unsure of the topic, idea, or amount.
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2015/05/01/adieu-april-may-you-return/
ConnectHook Sep 2019
➿➿➿

There are more than two genders

Trump is a ****

Or the planet will die by 2030

Diversity is strength

Believe women

White supremacists

You create reality

Sounds like conspiracy
Notes from the Under-read
“YOU are the poetic resistance”
ConnectHook Mar 2021
☩ ☩ ☩

If you think

That Haile Selassie

is the Living God of scripture

you are WAY too high

and I and I and I and I . . .
Rasta stop babbling and get SAVED
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwGoMEo5rIw
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Thy name, somber lady, illuminates heaven

As dazzling light penetrates into shadow.

Enlaid in rare colors (oh Lord, what a lead-in),

Your blackness out-veils the proverbial widow.

Iron maidens get nailed.  Don’t rest in denial

And lie to your soul that your actually dealin’.

I only ask this to your face:  that you’ll smile

Unlocking your Gothic cathedrals to kneel in.

No death-dirges here.  I’m no spike-studded user

Eventually yours to pursue until captured.

Let’s hope there is time – but we risk being raptured.

I’m not into pain;  not a sado-abuser.

Don’t masochists also need fun in the sun?

All I want is a friend.    So I hope you’re the one…
Name: NELIDA  Gender: FEMALE   Nationality: UNKNOWN
[Meaning derived from Eleanor: "shining light"]
Continent/Origin: ANDEAN SOURCES OF THE AMAZON
Next page