Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ave Maria Jun 16
To speak scientific truth and the ways of nature is now to hate one another, so it seems
Why is this? How possibly could spreading the good seed of knowledge be the equivalent to inciting violence or a hate crime? Humans are far too fragile, as they have been since the beginning of time. All these unnecessary wars, and for what reason? They begin by spreading facts or opinions that evidently cannot be handled. There is nothing more self destructive than humanity. The censoring has begun, and I reckon much worse is to soon unfold. Why must they defend so dearly, what does not exist? We are asked not to label, yet these people label themselves and us within the span of a second for not believing in fantasies. We stand subject to ridiculous trends, power trips, and the dangerous fragility of the human mind. Will there ever be an end?
i can
conjurer up words
mix delicate
intricacies of verse
with poetic license
i might defecate
upon scripted genius
   of the past
a scourge
on the eloquence
   of perfected prose
a pariah
with semantics
that hang in the air
like a frequented noose
the rhetoric of
this rhetoric
both dumbfounds
   and delights
the agenda of the learned;
to supress
the syntax spat forth
the phlegm and catarrh
of a gut
of derivatives

i could compose
a verse
for young lovers
   to cherish
if i could
only stop
the rot;
      or ignorance
i couldn't
tell you
neth jones Apr 24
life is vaporous
life is sleep and within life vapour I take a slumber
limbered keen and nimble I kip travels
unraveling lumber
  the annual rings a lolling carpet
   life is but a pencil sharpener
at my shoulder
                a nap sacked boulder
peppered quartz for schemes
  as an investor in dreams
                          i am larval

mumbling some verse nonsense
gavel for gorge
clouted by The Greats
the knowers who silk spin
     the freedom of sleep and the imagination
                                                            into­ rule and bard
the thirsty claws of the snared dream
the shared laws that barter with hurt
even as though we know ;
'ignorance is no excuse for the law'
         we ****** not forward with our 'self'
we have a trust of 'no confidence'
                      and an obedience to follow

i am some frown of traveller
        and a knowledge trawler
self-made unaware
an incomplete idiot with a knot of care
life is sleep and within that sleep i take my life
and with it
          any the fool that follows
neth jones Mar 24
now ;                                                                                         
­                                   til the begging of our next death
bragging of our savage past chiming ovations
occupying the company of our hostages
when scavenge is all there truely is
'dealt with' seems a felony
shriney irredeemable
to some
quite fertile
and a breeding pulse
taking out our bludgeoning
womb of demoting anger and the elements
and blaze out your heart-pace                                        
in a most volcanic emission                                                         ­ 
                                                               ­              - the ignition
Deep Feb 24
I stood there well
But fell in a Well,
They pull me out
of the Well,
I stood there thinking;

Am I well?
neth jones Jan 2
deviancies body my perspective
mangy deceit by perception
whim the world an alibi
blue of a threading
jest passing true
mastering a
neth jones Nov 2021

i pull on the day brightly
mine it at the maternal sources
        and form a radiant :                    
               a bloom from within fledgling elements

illuminant grenades                          
             and the sky is peppered with characters
it's a wild play of childness              
an old world whimsy        
of 'here be monsters'    
            and shiny scrapbook havoc

the compass steps in              
       and with the turn of the globe
                          scores the horizon
clouds and the aviators          
         are combed into the soft crust
     a spiral quilting                          
       to cover the gift of a dream
      given by one thirsty visitor
   who stole it lightly
     from the prism
   of another travelling dreamer

God knows what'll grow
        if there's a pillow fight
a deranged rain of innovation
perhaps some fiddly creation
will fast take over this world
         and it's lover other

with the sky allied and fraudulent
we can host an early night
the stars (in strand)
prattle the ocular sense frontier
all constellations are like a single ribbon eel
never quite nourishing
             upon its own thoughtless loop

a corduroy display
neth jones Nov 2021
how much time left do I
apply my mined
knot kneaded
Glass Nov 2021
pink photographs sticky notes brac e let bar
shrink chronographs picky votes stake a guitar
link show no paths sickly motes tasting it jarred
promo tracks stow though mats low foe packs so crow slaps
finicky face to picard
Next page