My mistresses name is darkness.
she calls me,
desire prominent in her voice.

She embraces me,
her silk gown enticing.
I can't wait any longer I grasp her tightly.

As she slips the gown from her silhouette.
I have already climbed into her darkest corners.
Indulging and devouring.

The penetration goes on for hours, days or weeks?
Time is a state of mind while she's with me.

As I thrust away frustration,
kiss my way to peace.

The seduction is to powerful,
I always end up back in her sheets.

© 2017 Claire Meakin
All rights reserved

I am king of the world, universe and everywhere,
But I have only a hint of power.
So all I can give you is attitude.
Just pointing out injustice
Where I see it.

Classes and castes and religious divides
I see as evils
To be opposed
With all my might.

For sure I’ve little might
Of course,
But I still have the right
To say that it’s all wrong.

Classless society is what we want:
Well anyone who’s worth his, or her salt wants that.
Religious discrimination is another thing
We need to remove
From our way of life.

There are many more evils in our world,
So we must do
All we can
To obliterate them
At every opportunity.

I can’t put this any other way,
Poetic or not,
We have to stand
And fight
Against all that we see
As bad.
For the Common Good.

Paul Butters

Angry! Provoked by a documentary on India by Joanna Lumley, featuring the "Caste System".

Oh thou lord, he that calmeth the seas, yea he that hast triumphed over death. Thou hast freed me from the bonds and bands of sin.

Yea tho I was in the depths of despair, yea almost swallowed in the midst of the adversary, yet thou hast rescued me from bondage.

Thou art the savior of me oh lord. Yea there be no pain nor trouble nor trial nor tribulation on earth that the sweet ambrosia of heaven cannot overcome.

Yea lord, we submit our wills unto thee, yet we know that therein find we our freedom. Thou proclaimest that whosoever shall lose their life in service therein shall find, and yea how much have we served thee lord? How much have we prostrated unto thee lord? Have we not cried unto thee in the night? Begging, oh lord, unto thee for thy embrace? Have we not called out to thee savior? That we might feel thy love and thy peace? Thou savior of mankind, thou hast rescued me and therefore have we been snatched from the adversary of mankind.

Lord we humble ourselves before thee. We know that thou hast power to do all things, yet submit our will under thy own. Lord we ask thee this day that thou might show us thy mercy and give unto us thy spirit that we may feel thy love.

Yea lord shew unto us thy blessings and we shall shew unto thee our works, notwithstanding we know thou canst all things do, and if thou givest not unto us thy blessings then shall we call and prostrate and cry unto thee lord, and then shall we shew twice our works unto thee lord.

For we pray not to supersede our will over thine oh lord. Nay we pray to bring retribution to our wonts and draw ourselves into thy arms and under thy merciful protection. And we know that our salvation is borne on the backs of thy grace and on thy atonement.  And our salvation is borne on the backs of eagles that heavenward do fly.

Therefore, I, Thy humble servant, do humble myself unto Thee. This day shall I follow thee, and love thee, and forever sustain thee.
To Thee, Oh Saviour of Mankind.

Something religious I wrote in church the other week
Luke 5d

Amidst a tenebrous hurricane of chaos,
I have hunted through the dark to find what I have lost,
And at last my path is laid out in front,
So I shall stay alert, always savoring the hunt,

I am ending my transformation as sovereign of the dark,
Arming myself with the confidence to finally make my mark,
I will help guide foreign spirits through the lurid mist,
Protecting them from horrors that most beings have thankfully missed,

I’m almost there, I don’t look back, I’ve come so very far,
Now my spirit is almost fully submerged into the Jaguar,
I move so stealthily through corners nobody can see,
I understand the chaos; no one’s ventured there but me,

I have made a choice to be the guardian of the night,
Some of you can sense me I’m the one who kills the fright,
My spots reflect the darkness, circles of a deep pitch black,
They help remind me of the things to which I’ll never go back

They say the pen is mighter than the sword.
In truth, it is equally as dangerous.
Words can be steel against others
Words can cut deeper than a physical wound
(Especially now that the roots of race and prejudice
and ignorance is laid bear for all to see, along with
it's flames)
Words are arrows
Loosed into the air and once its been fired,
you cannot take it back.
There are some who abuse words as well
Just like swords, words can start a battle
A battle of wits
When the person must have a stone heart against
what is said.
When you hold the pen, you hold a golden flower.
Though there is beauty in it, you should also be afraid
of the gold tube and black ink.
In a society like ours, where the superficial rules over
the original, one word, what you saw, what you write
Has the destiny of creating a legacy
Add further fuel to the fires of hatred

This poem is just me expressing how I see the pen. As I said before, this is my atonement in a way. The pen is nighter than the sword, they say. Honestly, the pen is just as brutal

I may create and belong
and language
which seeps so effortlessly
may pull and bind my being into knots
but I bleed for knowledge.
My lungs fill with words and I choke
on memory as it hits me.
Mastery, meaning, crushing definition.
Division, collision,
a crash of colour and lightening
crushing my skull in anticipation.
Knowledge of death
worse than the idea of dying.
Nerves tied into knots
impossible to untie
unless I know the code,
electric pain
with my limbs
flush to the flames.

~~ Sophophobia, the fear of learning. ~~

Bickering Children

Party Lines

Obsessing over "better times"

That no longer apply

To our current situation

Old men whose futures are short at best

Telling me what to do with my uterus


Some thoughts I am having before my meeting with Senator Joni Ernst. I'll finish it later, but not too shabby for writing it in 2 minutes.
Star BG Jul 17

Dressed to the T I plan to be.

Outfit ironed and looks swell.
Shoes match so well.

Belt surrounds with hug.
Hair is braided, as I tug.

But wait I’m not fully dressed.
Whats missing? I’m listening.

Oh yes, a smile.
A smile to greet another,
to wash away worries,
in all kinds of weather.

To align with power,
inside the hour.

To be complete to shine.
with smile so divine,
inside rhyme, feeling sublime.

A smile a day, keeps the sadness away.
So try it on, one smile fits all.

StarBG © 2017

just playing with words.

listening to the news
one really gets the blues

in all their great meetings
    after cordial greetings
world leaders disagree
    for one reason or other

seems they don’t really bother
‘bout what should be their goals

    not to save their own souls
    but the folks in our world

the children all curled
    with pain in their belly
civilians burned dead
    with gasoline jelly

the women attacked for
    (a lack of) their clothing
as if there were nothing
more important than keeping
some men from their peeping

but what really matters
are the people in tatters
who flee from bombed homes
in despair and have come
    to realize
that their possible demise
does not affect those
who’d rather smell a rose
than seriously bother
about the fate of an other

tragedy unfolds every day
yet it holds little sway
in the news of the powers
that makes sure that ours
is different from theirs

until that dream sours
we need to write some
more encouraging verse

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