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Sunny lanes crawl high up, upon my face
Watering steadily the flesh covered by faith
Leaving germination of the thoughts to sway
From winds that have not bent its way.
Soothing recklessly the times of gain
While earthly dependency grows crooked again
But contentment of fruits bared
Have fed more hearts in days
And rainy stairs replaced
Many sunny lanes every day.
Greed knows its vein,
Its stream that flows from within
It carries all needs,
Even ones of desolation
And grim
Towards a root
Unable to stay anew.
Sound the horns before the crash of the drums,
Reign forever the promise,
only as long as does not perturbe the ageless splendor of it's denial.
The angry man is vain in his resentment of luxury as he toils,
and so he proceeds in vain of his resentment.
The happy man is foolish in his love of life, forgotten to that horrible heaping part of himself,
sprawled with constricting joints and bleeding that blood,
Pay he luck not to remember.
Always eager was accepted by the Earth.

Always downward impress the power and cascading mountains of the horizon.
Ever so that the dwindling height impresses the speck at the edge of it's microscopic lense.
From what pestle were ground these grains of what the body shivers to behold?
From what tree was made sacrifice and ripped the shreds of this beautiful scenery?
From what point does the needle steer it's compass,
Pulsates the ebb of the magma of power.

The excretions of raw turmoil brews,
Below the vats of anamorphic **** was raised,
And up was risen low on high and behold that it was seen.
The slumber had encroached upon itself,
Flitting it's tail at the flies and leftovers of the night.
The spoils of day at hand make clear the path of the arm.
I am stretched about it's expanse and yearn the pangs of inward loss.
The melting hot aftermath boils my blood dark and red,
I am ready to sanctify these old bones with new fire.
I lurch my eyes upon the stocks and bundles,
I am in love.

Flesh loathes the indulgence of the mind,
masked in the light by its submission.
I have made acquaintance with the tonic of breath upon the bellows of breast,
I met the waves that mirror this and thine.
Well met are they, and I said that it was good!
To the heavens which impress me impress myself!
Know my mind you manifold of high towers!
Know me that lightning had stricken the chapels of your Kingdom, my name in blazing stars.
Know my name to the inextricable folds of your searching rebuttal.
And behold my pride,
erected there with bricks I would bet against mountains.
Was my blood so bold to creep back whence it came?
If not so, then was made ***** to my own boldness.
So there it was,
and so wept the Earth for a thousand years.

Tears falter to the sun, and my cheek is dry.
You know me, but what are you hiding?
Amongst the flags of nations the sweat of day unfurled,
There in the depths must be hidden.
Feed me or be refused the exhilaration of my tongue.
Set loose the fruit into my view,
I will do the rest.
Having filled my bucket of what belongs to me, harken to my plea for more,
To the adoption of my whimsy,
flicking fast the worm of yesterday.
I had worms in my thin stomach.
Aside it, the froth of snails had savored,
molding the lowest of all my opinion.
Better is the least of my gripes,
entrust me this day or all days hence I will mock you.
The threat twas modest now cast into hard metal for the shackles of a generation of tender feet.
What had inspired now falters,
I can weep no more.
auhsoJHaynes Nov 25
Silence of the forest,
             enchant my soul.

                           Halt the gears
         of want and worry.
                     Muffle the
                 machinery of man.

Fill my ears
         with bubbling brooks,
my eyes of
         saplings in the shade,
                        instead of
                plastic devastation,
                         a toxic counterfeit
           of perennial progression
Stephen Nov 12
Water and loose gravel
Tumble down mountains.
Stems, leaves, and branches
Grow toward the sun
And sway with the breeze.
Stalactites form and drip,
While stalagmites grow below.
When lava has nowhere else to go,
It bursts through the surface of the earth.
The planets spin and turn,
The stars burn and send light flying,
The ocean spits out dead things.
Objects in motion continue moving forward
Everything in nature
Follows the path of least resistance
Including mankind.
Every path was forged,
Every rail road was built,
Every highway was paved
Because it was easier than the alternative.
Every skyscraper went up,
Every paycheck went down,
Every war was fought
Because it was easier than the alternative.
Imaginary lines were drawn,
Around everyone and everything,
And we learned to believe they were real
Because it was easier than the alternative.
We followed the path of least resistance
And now everything is easy.
Being so poor that you can’t afford food is easy.
Living with disease and cancer,
Rotting from the inside out
Because you can’t afford to go to the hospital is easy.
Getting bullied, harassed, and beaten
Because you act or look different is easy.
Getting ***** without ever seeing
A shred of justice or remorse is easy.
Being gunned down by the very people
Who promised to serve and protect you is easy.
Everything in nature
Follows the path of least resistance
Including mankind.
Objects in motion
Continue moving forward
Unless they are
Compelled to change direction
By an external force.
You can be the external force that changes history.  We all can.
Yuppy Cups Nov 6
Rampage, savage.
Human imagination.

Build, better, stagnate.


Source, remix, medium.

All those centuries summed up.
These are interesting times
Blessing cursing each moment
Smelling like the '80s
Rhyming with the '60s
Cringing like the '40s
Gasping at '17

It's the War of The Worlds II
Man versus man versus nature and self
A free-for-all melee, just name it
Where bacteria and viruses
     and gas and atoms
Will be our doom in the end
But not before we've reeked havoc

on all that we love.
and so it was. .  .
Ken Voltaire Nov 4
Dark have been the days of late.
Feasting upon the rotting flesh of suns past,
None shall be delivered.
Grown too tall,
Hungered far in excess of what any stomach could carry,
Carried farther than any man dareth venture.
A ceaseless machine,
Cries out in smoke,
The ghastly thing spews,
Waste, lies, misery,
Upon those unknowing folk who drinketh from deceiving waters.
Strong trees stand no longer,
Delicate flowers of darkened shades,
Pilfer the landscape.
Intoxicating petals, formerly fair,
Trigger a grand collapse of the self.
Birds flutter hastily,
Stars spin before wide eyes,
A veil unending shields against the truth.
Many fear I hath become a madman.
The last star fades behind the peak,
The valley grows dark,
‘Tis the fate of I to fall into oblivion.
Methinks that sheep are blind, yet loyal,
Holding course without falter,
Keeping pace with the masses.
I apologize, dear listener,
For I fall into old cliches.
The stone that breaketh herds,
With force unmoving yet natural,
I stand before thee as a lone stranger,
Plowing against trivial time.
Betrayed by my own kin,
Great hammers are forced upon delicate fingers,
Hand over hand climbing ever onward,
With mangled digits.
My palms very nearly caress the precipice,
Idle hope keeps legs steady,
Mind weary,
Soul ever searching.
Why even one?
Why should even one die?
Why should even one die from hate?

Life is too short.
Life is too short to die unnaturally.
Life is too short to die unnaturally from hate.

Why doesn’t man learn?
Why doesn’t man learn not to ****?
Why doesn’t man learn not to **** for hate?

What’s ***’s purpose?
What’s ***’s purpose for making man die?
What’s ***’s purpose for making man die from hate?

Why sacrifice?
Why sacrifice six million?
Why sacrifice six million and eleven more?

*** made man.
*** made man hate.
*** made man hate his distance from Him.

*** cries out.
*** cries out for our response.
*** cries out for our response to hate.

*** is looking.
*** is looking for man.
*** is looking for man to return.
*** is looking for man to return to Holiness.
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
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