Steadfast
Risen to done, inclined
With a times shadow, to last
Among causes sign's...

Deeds of without...
Sated by roles of history
That a common power...
Makes a chance, of life's epistolary

Crave more...
Than an impunity
To introduce a quiet war
Of a candid salvation of humanity...

Rancor and/or hunger?
Places of distrust, if not deception?
Have a song's life, long before done and gone, were...
The truth of sincerity, is means, from its inception

Taken with the might, of serendipity
Come by the ought, of better aspiration
Mere, has become my voice for liberty
Like a stone, of choices seen, I see a host's generation...

“I read to find inspiration.
I write to restore candor to the mind.”
N. Scott Momaday

                        <<<<<>>>>>>>>>

Find Inspiration:
a phrase that diodes light, a one-way current within,
making me a selectman, “of thee I sing, of thee I write,
of thee am I composed and fodder for thy dissection &
”my decomposition.”

a phrase that reads me more than I read it,
jumps onto my ontological eyeballs, a great leap
forward, and I suppose humdrum you could call it,
inserted inspiration

Restoring Candor:
thus begins expiation+ excoriation+ exhumation;
a longish road to candor restoration, where plausible
deniability is denied, Jedi verbal mind tricks are
just in movies, and candor is really “can-do(r)!”
but
no one dare say that
for fear of being laughed at,
a cancelled jingo-lingo-patriot.

There was a big boom once

Population dynamics are intrin-
sic functions of gumption
and big booms echo in eternity.

I look at the industrial revolution
through infrared filters
to parameterize the haze of our lives using

a kaleidoscope landmarking
technique andor technology
where the function of plutocracy

(and it is taking shape)

while it resonates on post-reformations
and pre-modernisms
How do you like them schizms?

Living the religion of
capital ~ ism
and paying homage on prayer mats of

blood ~ sweat ~ and 1, 2 many beers
through our blue collar dollars and
masonry jars and crossroads guitars

(and between the bars)

of our own creation.
Now moving toward remediation
and un-plebiation.

I cried vermouth and reconciliation while
they expunged truth and trylobytes.
The inevitability always bubbles up.

And in the trailer park of our lord: 2017
Ricky and Julian and Bubbles
pay homage to a great poet lost: Mr. Lahey.

(within the mystery of our own creation)

Thus we toast to: The Theatre of Life

I’m a logician
A tic-tac-tician
Accountable to
Me

Bringing it day andor
Night
It’s time to get
Into My groove

Cause ... caustic ... causality
Tom waits for no one.

Like a moon in clouds so your face in curly hair
Allow my love me some glowing beauty to share
Let me kiss your glowing cheeks in trance to share
World may not have witnessed such flair so rare

Flowers blossom in such a way only in real spring
Let my love give your beauty a wonderful swing
Let me compose many songs on your beauty to sing
Allow me to beautifully make a love chain and string

Only you care for me in this cruel world of hawks
In your company I can encounter all blocks ,rocks
Let us just cherish our all hidden and inherent talks
Let us bear together all lovely and violent shocks

Even if we die but our longing will travel for ever
You my sweetheart is just mine I can declare ,aver
Dawn carries along all hope like just a vast azure
My love I love you let me take to world my candor

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow