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How odd of you?
To think of pastures...
a leisure of sort
So green and pristine
with the milk of laughter
T'was hard work
keeping you on the hill
in summer's sunshine
near the old barn
by the flowing spring
Now memories are
limp and cold as winter
Rotting the heart of the tree
and even grass passes time
in faint contemplation of you
A Pastoral Poem
Mannequin men; murals
stationed crazy
as a cat walks walls
There, mundane masks
Their bloodlust eyes
Such intensity
In the silence was night
Tiny drums crescendo
stubborn in teflon skin
Shooting stars stars.
Shoot like me, paparazzi
Free Speech Free Speech
Flee Speech,  a breach
It's Crazy!
Cats on a catwalk
Meow Meow Meow
Moving mannequin men
If this is innate,
why won't you wait?
Your mind won't keep
you asleep
Can you be who I am?
As I'd Conceived?
Carried in agonising pain?
Borne again and again,

We'd slaughter ourselves
for your twisted paradigm
of ourselves. Now,
we slaughter ourselves
like sheep. Skin deep
Till our blood seeps
and colours a cause
It is not our body!
But, our mind drips
a physiology of remorse
We've suffered. No loss
deciding: who are we?
That grass
isn't that green?
Slash and burn!
And Myrrh
Like shorgum
Like maize
You, amaze me

Matzo's to eat
First night
Is law, Pat Yisrael

Netting up, nothing
Keep birds out
Bring birds in
Who? Yao? Nothing!

Nothing like bantu
Nothing like kin
He parts the Red Sea
Anthony Pierre Oct 2021
You in your world
Stones and mountains
Dust and desire
The morning star
lingers. No holograms
one or two scores and
You urge to recite it:
"make bread!"
"make bread!"
but on these words,
how shall you feast?
one or two bytes and
Height and Temple
Cities and World
So great
and here he left
No angels
No holograms
Anthony Pierre Oct 2021
How many things
Time forgets
what was hung up
what was laid down

Across many years
a sudden reflect
memories are tears
and with brevity
that child sings:
Jesus loves me
Yes, I know!
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