New dreams await on silk laced sand
where younglings, now hand in hand,
sit upon the drystone walls.
Michaels sword is guarding us
and fear will swim no more!
But low, hang these lights,
on this gentle night,
as their chance for love
awaits ... evermore!
No medals hang on the picket fenced walls
where younglings, in silent falls,
grow within the vineyard trees.
Michaels sword is guiding us
where ghouls will dance no more!
We sing, and spirts roar,
on these glowing streets,
as our chance for love
awaits ... nevermore!
Late at night
One can see a light on
In my home
As I invent and also daydream
Inventions to renew a worn out world
Helping those who have limited ways
In which to find their ways
I am a "kind scientist" getting lost in my brightest of schemes.
In my dreams
I see a much more advanced and a much more united people in the future
As I enjoy the astral travels
To different moments and places in time
I become inspired
By such brilliant visions
Another diagram and invention to plan out
Spreading brilliant ideas abroad to foreign gravels.
I donate my "smarts" and "data passed ideas"
over wireless lines
To work hard to see such astral predictions come true
I raise a glass of soda to my reflection
"A toast to the future, the moment, and a design for
a successful and more united world...
in creative designs."
Standing on more solid grounds
Peering out at the lights of the city
Amaze my clearer view
Like sparkling Christmas Lights
The vision in a warm Spring Sky
is a surge of Electricity.
Walking down the various streets
That I visit
Along the way I shake a new hand
I meet a friendly and welcoming new face
Empowered by the bright connections
Detaching from the shorted out ones...
My heart has been recharged
I am a renewed being
To shed more gifts of care
Upon this large Earth..Our living space.
Fear is a control
A weapon used by those who have no self esteem
Used by those with no self control
Are we on a roll?
Those who hate you wish to see you fall
From Jealousy and Defending your level
They wish to see you in a grave
Dirt covering your body up with a shovel
Do not let fear consume your mind
Filling your thought spaces up with the Toxic
Elements of their "poisoned" recipe
That feeds the hunger of the dark kinds
Of people who do not understand your beauty
They hate to see you shine bright
Smile in their faces and use your deeper strength
Shining your heart
From an even brighter light
Death seems more inviting
when lonely hours eat your soul like acid.
The heart pounds from the destructive force of stress of being pushed to quiet hours. You obey their rules. Just to be ignored and left to, slowly age, until death. Alone.
You fight the feelings. You box the bags of self-destruction’s brutal control until your will is too weak to look towards any light.
What is the role for someone in life? This mouse has run through their mazes to get his cheese.
Just to find, at the completion of their sick direction, there was no cheese to be eaten.
Your heart starts to starve. Your heart is anorexic and weak.
Help is a word, from them. Never an action.
You are unwelcome. The distant stranger.
Nights are empty, heavy, and sleep becomes a dreadful process.
Dreaming of things that are better than the waking hours
One starts to wonder. “is permanent slumber the sweet reward to a caged awakened hour?”
You try and you long for the reward
Of tools to complete your legacy
Your “light behind your name.”
Just as these tools are in your grasp… they are pulled out of reach by the corrupt and the greedy.
It always happens that other persons only pull you half way out from pity.
Then the feeling of boredom passes into them over not understanding the thrill of your presence
They release the vine which could have kept you from sinking in and drowning
They then walk away.
Support to the brighter soldiers....
"Making America Great Again.."
It's not a statement... it's a way to a new life...
From living one like a has-been.
Never throw your hands up...
Energy needs to surge
Before you throw your guts...
All over in fear's purge,
"You need to stay strong.."
We unite as one....
The beacon of vision
Through t.v screens full of static.
(C)2019 By Kevin Michael Kappler. Beacon from The Static. Let's become great people...we are..we just lost the way. I know we can find this road, again. I hate seeing good people giving in to the hate and violence. Blessings to all.