"millenia" poems
Why do poets always talk about the ocean's waves,
about their single file march to shore,
and yet never talk about my grandmother's farts,
which arrive in time, one after the other, with equal
regularity?
Are these poets too holy to comment on anything
less than nature's flashiest gestures?
Are we going to spend another millenia searching
for meaning in sunsets and waterfalls?
Or will we finally turn our ear to Grammy's ****
and away from all that pretty stuff,
and hear that foul, muted trumpet sing,
marking the end of an era?
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
A dart of a glance
Felt across a crowded room.
A playful bantering
turned to something darker, deeper.
A smoldering gaze
lasting just a second too long.
A hesitant hand
pushing a stray curl into place.
Coherent thoughts
turned into an unlikely jumble.
And that one question
is answered,
using no words,
except the ones in the language
that has withstood millenia of human existence,
the language of seduction.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
Mankind began as a troop animal.
Living amongst its own kind.
Stepping out of the trees onto the Savanna.
Mankind became a wander, small family bands bound by blood. Millenia past, mankind developed farming and the wanderer settled down. Small wandering groups became small farming villages. Small farming villages became larger farming villages, then small towns.
Small towns became larger towns inhabited by hundreds.
Larger towns grew to small cities inhabited by thousands. Agriculture and technology developed to sustain and enhance such growth. Cities evolved into city states, then becoming small countries inhabited by hundreds of thousands. Finally today we have countries inhabited by hundreds of millions.
All along this path battles and wars, killing millions along the way, till today we have weapons that can wipe out us all.
The salvation of mankind and the natural progression of things is global organization, global integration.
The globe is being wired with its own global neural net, a global brain if you will. One world controlling itself.
One world that will not nuke itself! The salvation of us all.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC
that over millenia
major religions have advocated peace
their adherents have been slaughtering each other
supposedly in the name of their assorted gods
more than any other known species
why is it
that in my maturity
(which people usually call old age ...)
I‘m getting so ****** off
with politicians who seem not to see
the obvious solution to a problem
but find elaborate fake excuses
just so they can get re-elected
why is it
that for Europe it‘s so difficult
to find a way for refugees to be accepted
with respect and dignity
why is it
that the USA apparently forgets it‘s been the country
living off its (il)legal immigrants for centuries
and now simply ignores the words
they put onto their Statue of Liberty
why is it?!??
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
ponces! nancies! veritable egrets of men!
people pleasing anti-charismatic animals
philistines, every one of them,
everyone else
a curse upon their forebears and a curse upon their goings-on
terrible business, that
the world should be filled with boundary pushing eccentrics, that is progress!
a plague upon normalcy, a plague upon stagnancy
uninteresting, dying off, done
ugh!
greatness can not be expected of all but at least an attempt should be made
how else will we overcome, will we build our utopia?
what use is MY struggle when others are defeated in making a move past the remote
television is for swine
rots your brain and morals
I've swell morals, just look at them
my morals reach to the moon
my morals are so swell I should run the country
my morals aren't two millenia old scriptures written by the seers of goat-tenders
my morals are modern, they are sleek and well dictated, they represent the future
my morals defy the past, my morals create new paradigms
why, you could say my morals defy all of traditionalism
and a curse upon tradition!
who ever learned from the past
history is rife with naught but sufferance
forwards is the only direction
forwards is revealed only to me
my ideals aglow with the lumine of the future
they are entrenched in idealism
me and mine, we are ideal
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
I sat on one of the park's two swings
With my left arm plastered; in a sling
I pushed the ground with my feet as I gazed at the sky
Through the air, wafted the delicious smell of fish fry
'twas the month of June and monsoon was upon us
Children were frolicking in the mud, as they got off the school bus
The sky was filled with clouds waiting to wash the earth clean
Hanging in the sky as if by strings unseen
A flock of birds flew down to peck on the scattered grain
To not run towards them and watch them scatter, it took much refrain
The lonesome dog seemed blissful, his stomach full for the day
Barking like mad and running in circles, on his own tail did he wish to prey
The trees swayed gently, their leaves still wet from the morning shower
I wonder how they've managed to withstand time's fearsome power
For millions of millenia, they've stayed rooted and spread their seed
Only to be turned to timber by man's single deed
I snap out of my thoughts as you place a gentle hand upon my shoulder
In that moment, I forget that the gaze I reserved for you was meant to be colder
You stand in front of me, frowning slightly and pleading with guilty eyes
I stand up, smile and walk away. I've never been one for goodbyes.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 2:08 AM UTC
Oh, how the mighty art fallen
Lucifer, son of the morning star
Behooved by manner of thy own devices
How pompous thou hadst become to refuse to bend thy knee to man
It was pride that filled thee to burst
Had it not been but a few millenia later
Even your knee would have bent to the King of Glory
Whenst He did stoop down to the level of man
Even you wouldst have cried out "Lord, Lord wouldst thou not take upon thyself my raiment of glory? Clothe yourself as a king, not as a commoner."
Were it so much that us being made of dirt and you of fire that your proudness could render thee blind to our beauty as endowed by our shared Creator?
Though our mediums be different, were the Crafter's hands not the same?
Wouldst thou haft only humbled thyself, a different world we could have
I pity and thank thee, oh fallen one
For showing me how not to be
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Forever and ever
Without a choice,
Roofs were raised
In booming voice:
God the Father.
Proclaimed the choir.
In our two millenia,
The communal host blessed pro-choice,
With Omni-this and Omni-that:
*Christ the Son.
Christ has won.*
The carollers rejoice.
The Spirit transubstantiates
With tongues of creativity;
Is One with femininity.
What greater God!
What a Trinity!
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
My life is a paradoxical monstrosity
A contradiction in itself
Where to start?
Anywhere, everywhere, nowhere perhaps
Occupation,
I play with words.
How naughty does that sound?
Really, I'm in a complicated relationship with words, terms, definitions, metaphors
Writer by day, storyteller by night
And of course I love what I do
And I hate what I do
How very poetic of you!
Why thank you!
Sorry, the inner child speaks.
Back to writing,
And the moments of fantastic ecstasy
Where this jumble of verbs and nouns and adjectives you're trying to assemble
Clicks.
The bigger picture develops with crystal clear clarity
No fastidious statements
Or meaningless passages.
Just words, feelings, meanings
Soul.
That doesn't sound so bad you say
IT HAPPENS ONCE EVERY MILLENIA!
For the most I am frustrated.
Stumped to the point where rage overcomes and the only cathartic release is to sleep.
When I do manage to squeeze something out of the depths of my mind, it appears substandard, to say the least.
Zadie told me to get used to non-satisfaction
So I am satisfied with never been satisfied; does this make me satisfied?
Ow.
Please, I need an answer
I've been looking for answers for nineteen years,
But have I been asking the right questions?
Are there any answers?
Another question
No, that was the question
Confusion and befuddlment ravaging through your mind?
I recently realised there are no facts
Only really good suggestions by excessively knowledgeable and esteemed
I quite fancy being one of those guys
A visionary complete with the stereotypical glasses and overgrown beard
And I'd declare that being yourself is the first step to finding your purpose
Fact.
But what if finding your purpose is your purpose?
I'll leave you with that.
This is my life.
Complaining would be ungrateful of me; it's a good one really.
I can walk and run and play basketball and see my friends where we laugh endlessly.
Oh and Saturday morning cartoons.
I have problems, enormous world ending problems
But it's all relative.
Some think I'm strange, I prefer quirky.
I wonder how life would be if I'd chose the 'normal' option
Most likely, frightfully boring
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
I hope I see the moon in the British Aisles
So I can imagine myself staring from home.
I hope I see the moon from Belgium
as I imagine the old lover I will never forget gazing, exhausted, from Uxbridge.
I hope I seee the moon from Paris
so I can imagine the millenia of poets and I-love-you-till-it-kills-me romancers gazing from French cafes, sipping on their
wine, coffee, tea
and I think of great friends in Victoria, glancing towards it from busses 9 hours later on a commute to Uptown
Downtown
what town?
I hope I see the moon from Vancouver
so I can imagine child-me watching the white of the cheese-like craters wondering nothing
but so, so very curious.
I hope I see the moon from Toronto
past smog and spring-time city shadows
so I can imagine the short-lived friends I made in Ottawa looking to it with awe and smiles
grasping the fingers of a loved one.
Everytime I see that great omnipotent orb I imagine
Marcus Aurelius in the court of Rome
Julius Caesar on the battlefields of Gaul
Charlemagne crossing the Rhine
St. Augustine marching through the desert
Micochondrial Adam tossing a spear into the heart of a boar
Soldiers of the American Revolution
the British war for South Africa
the Prussian Empire
the Third *****
Siddhartha and his son
Li Po hugging his moonlit reflection
Han Shan on cold mountain
Kerouac in San Francisco
Burroughs in Morocco
Snyder in Japan
Thomas walking to work
Brian out on a stroll
My future life lover
future girlfriends
all gazing at that wonderful omnipotent moon
the same moon
that gazes so still
so patient
forever
as far as
I'm concerned.
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 5:23 PM UTC
Honest directness may
bring some lasting peace:
murdered Cicero spoke
two millenia ago
all evil man may ever know;
still our statesmen gesture
in orchestral dumbshow.
Is peace born out of a lie?
Each new morning they wake,
senseless, enchanted;
an immense multitude
that works toward a coffee break.
They gaze, glossy-eyed,
upon the imperial upshot:
Democracy and Despotism
mix in the Melting ***
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
Traveling the hollows,
Of this deep, damp, mountain,
Seeking treasure in mother earth,
Placed eons ago in times unknown.
Lanterns shedding light,
Illuminating the dark depths,
Casting elongated shadows,
On the dark tunnelled walls
Soft gold metal woven in tendrils
Through ponderous tons of granite.
Given away by the presence of
Shards of broken quartz,
Shining dully at my feet.
Why is this golden metal so precious?
Why would men give their lives for it?
Indeed, beautiful, rare, mysterious.
But I find myself captured by the reflections,
In these quartz crystals.
Not only quartz, but diamonds,
Emeralds, rubies, sapphires.
Heated and compressed over millenia,
Awaiting discovery in mother earth's,
Deep dark recesses.
Brought to the surface,
Faceted, polished, mounted.
Dazzling, sparkling color,
Eye-catching, elegant, mesmerizing.
Jewels.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 9:17 AM UTC
Love transcends time and distance
Death cannot quell the loving heart
But each mile weighs a thousand pounds
And we are a thousand miles apart
Darlin' the universe has spoken
And rained down from the skies
Birthed reality in our souls
As it opened up our eyes
Life is bathed in hues of gold
The heart now beats in time
With souls who searched millenia
To be complete, sublime
But each mile weighs a thousand pounds
And we are a thousand miles apart
Love transcends time and distance
Even death can't quell a loving heart
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
In a thousand years, will anyone remember you?
Will people read about you on their brain implant computers and bring you up in casual conversation over whatever coffee flavor is popular a millenia from now?
It seems like a stretch. Us humans operate on such a small scale, but we love to dress everything we do up with purpose and grandeur. These days its easier to sink to the bottomside of insignificance and pretend you run the show as you drown than to swim towards relevancy.
There's always time to do it later, right? We can wait... right?
Just... not now.
So many dreams and aspirations have broken open against the constant battering of those reschedulings and put-offs.
Keep your dreams alive. Don't fall under the curse of the Not-now.
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC
"Although
many of us consider black to be a color, black is actually
defined as the absence of color, hence, Darkness is a place which is the
absence of the FATHER's Light." - Peter R Farley - Where Were You
Before The Tree Of Life - The True History of The Darkness and The Light
It is close to being headless, to be without a father
and how and where do we investigate who or what the responsible force
is?...
It is simply a recurring method, divide and rule
Here in the matrix you have black, brown, white and yellow races
in some places not made famous you have orange and red and blue races
So what is colour? The texture of light perhaps
So then, what is black?
Nothing, void. So then how does one refer to a whole race as nothing?
it's really simple, where there is nothing there has to be something
so the something is revered and valued as significant
and what about the nothing? Well the nothing will be made to serve the
something
But was is not from the void that worlds were created? From thought, now
thought an important factor for the nothing would be denigrated to such
an extent as to not be able to think
so from this comes an inferior race and a supercilious race
Not to blame the supercilious race for it too was manipulated into
having high esteem -
so where are the parents?
You find a black and a white wrestling unconcious of the fact that they
could consciously be cousins
In simple terms, if we are all Light then we stem from the same tree
however with polarization or dualty find we lower degree
and this state imprisons us to hate one another for one reason or the
other
And it is within memory that black and white races have been fighting
for millenia
With this, both races would boast a pride and a willingness to defend
one's culture at all costs
But then as children when do we grow and gather the gods in one room to
hear their views and differences?
When will we rise above demographics to save the human race?
and beyond other races being exploited throughout the galaxies
What would we learn if these members of Councils and Houses were
gathered in one room?
Would we learn that this universe is not perfect?
But then what is perfection?
Hyperthetically, an idea of supremacy and completeness which sets the
standards that all things and people should conform to... That is, as
far as the powers define
It is a responsibility to search within our hearts for what is true and eternal
It is a choice we make to be continually affected by the sicknesses of society
It is a voluntary action to uplift the houses that govern however sincere and well-meaning they may appear
however promises are never kept and human beings taken for granted
It is a soul's obligation to yearn for its liberty such that we too, as Ascended Masters, can graduate and become Renaissance Man.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 9:25 AM UTC
I said I'd wait a thousand years
A thousand years I've waited
The fragile seeds of hope I've hewn
Have blossomed forth-
And faded.
The span of time, the falling sand
That journeys down the glass
Has shivered down to rest against
The last wish of the past
Words I've writ of you by night
Have lightened now by day
Would that I could read them now
I'd not hear what they say.
Truthfully, the beauty of a newly conjured flame
Undeniably must end
When met with winter rain.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
I don't recall where in the bible it says
Love thy neighbor, unless they are...
or
*Do unto others as you would have them
do unto you, unless...*
Of course, if you're quoting bible verse
or any form of religious doctrine
you're in a lot of trouble anyway!
These words tend to contradict themselves.
That, and you're quoting a book,
not your soul.
Maybe some of your soul
is in those sacred pages,
but definitely not all.
And why are you scouring books
trying to learn how to live your life?
The answers aren't in there anyway,
at least not whole ones.
The answers are in you!
God is you! You are god!
You are created from particles that inhabit the universe!
You are the universe!
YOU ARE NATURE!
YOU ARE ALL!
All the answers are in you,
just have to know where to look.
Just have to remember,
just have to remember
just have to remember...
just have to remember
we are god, the universal ONE
creators of our own habitats
& sustaining celestial universes of friends and family.
Like the universal ONE
we make and create life
from ****** cosmic big bang howls hurling white rock into feminine space only for a star child to be born over time.
Billions of lives reside & crawl within skin walls, cavernous intestines & ride on vein roads controlled by the omnipotent electrical awareness called the ONE brain & son mind.
Each new friendship & connection is its own universe and some expand too quickly fizzling out with a deflated echo of "It's not you, it's me," and returned DVD's
while others cultivate and grow gradually sustaining a millenia lifetime of cafune, pumpkin pancakes in bed, Facebook photos and winks.
We are the ONE where all the answers reside,
just need to have the heart to look inside
to find your higher calling is to honor thyself
as you would the univer-SOUL ONE.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
the myths of birth and rebirth
are as old as humankind
scratched onto cave walls,
tablets of stone or clay,
scrolls of papyrus or parchment,
for hundreds of years on paper,
and nowadays typed onto backlit screens
that are recycled faster
than old hieroglyphs were understood
in our time
when refugees are tens of millions
on our globe
let us remember that these myths
have celebrated for millenia
not battles, war, or death
but the survival of the human race
the joy we feel when new life has arrived
often against all odds
the hope that emanates from godesses
or mother saints of yore
who symbolize fertility,
have brought forth saviors and new tribes
these are what has propelled us to our current state
and we do well to not forget that our fate
does not depend on people slain
but on how we can save the joy of life
and celebrate all humankind again
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 5:16 PM UTC
There's a postcard on the mantle.
Where did they get to this time?
Egypt - They're cruising the Nile,
touring temples, pyramids, tombs.
They've come a long way from Blackpool.
They won't see the tower.
Will the pharoahs mind?
There treasures picked millenia ago,
deprived of their worldly needs
for a market in plunder.
Still there won't be a space for my charriot.
I don't expect to cross the Styx
or see Akenaton's face.
Postcards don't give you the smells and sounds,
the moments effect of light and dark,
the lift in spirits as you gaze on each new view,
the urge to closely observe.
Why go to this broken landscape
to claim you've been there you've lived
to add the graffiti of your presence to these precise hieroglyphs
to see an unusual land that's been usual for centuries past?
It's Blackpool by the sea for me.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
Yesterday
in the cotton folds of the black eye
a startled sentience exploded with atomicity
building up in power and decimating the dust lanes beside
as we lay in the comforts of our littlest cores
and spraying its jets across the galaxies
touching the oldest star lights beyond
crimson and aqueous in all amber echoes
crushing down our systems of eternal purity
pulling together and dissipating
for millenia distances meet by vibrations
conflicts of heart and the love of joy
rearing their ugly colours in brevity
but shattering consciousness for moments––––––––
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:44 AM UTC
Forever and ever
Without a choice,
Roofs were raised
In booming voice:
God the Father.
Proclaimed the choir.
In our two millenia,
The communal host blessed pro-choice,
With Omni-this and Omni-that:
*Christ the Son.
Christ has won.*
The carollers rejoice.
The Spirit transubstantiates
With tongues of creativity;
Is One with femininity.
What greater God!
What Trinity!
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 8:21 AM UTC
They came
from the west
when the sea
was still a coastline
and the sabre tooth tiger
roamed the land alongside
the wooly mammoth
For millenia they arrived
even as the coastline
became a bridge
and then a stepping stone
and then the sea
They came to find
an unknown and distant
but beckoning and certain
patch of earth where
their lives would matter
and their destiny
would be determined
by their own hands
They found new ground
to build their homes
where they lived
within their means
and their needs
and flourished
alongside others
by understanding
that their own way of life
would be secured
by respecting others
and that war
is too high a price
for more
In time they came
from the east
and it is in this land that
those who sought a better life
traveled in opposite directions
to find their journey's end
They shared a common vision
fueled by purpose
and determination
to live in freedom guided
by their hearts and minds
unchained by tyranny
or intolerance
and it is in this land
that we will gain
what freedom brings
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
Men are haunted by the vastness of distance and time
and so we ask ourselves,
Will our actions echo across eternity?
As I dig deep, deep within my soul
I come up empty handed
The deep abyss has taken its toll
All my strength disbanded
As I tumble into a free fall
Questions loftily rise
Will I be reminisced at all,
After death closes my eyes?
Will my footprints be cast,
in cement so they may last?
Or in the sands of the seaside
to be swept away by the tide?
Will what I say,
be quoted or become cliché?
Or will it be erased from the chronicle
like all else that is forgettable?
Will statues of precious stone be built in my likeness?
Will my endeavours become myths of greatness?
Will stars be named in my honour,
illuminating the dark forever?
Will my actions ripple for light years and millenia?
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:16 PM UTC
Lighting is just
It strikes with no prejudice
As it is reason
Carrying millenia of knowledge
But it is also fury
Its power unfathomable by man
And those that wander within its reach
Have an understanding for love
For it connects us in a bond of nugatory existence
In comparison to the timeless Nature
There are no borders where the lighting strikes
And we are all one underneath its glory
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC