Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Filmore Townsend Jan 2013
i am a survivor, i am a scavenger, i am a man with
no shame. i am an artist, i am a writer, i am an
iconoclast. i am a lover, i am a creator, i am a
destroyer. i am quality, i am worthless, i am absence.
i am man, i am conqueror, i am world-ender. i am an
addict, i am old, i am wizened. i am free, i am
young, i am unnurtured. i am secret, i am becoming,
i am a wreck. i am a shadow, i am oblivious, i am
obvious. i am obscene, i am abhorrent, i am hidden. i
am a seeker, i abstain – i am a liar. i am a deceiver, i am
an actor, i am unknowable. i am entirety, i am
citizen, i am insolence. i am thought, i am concept, i
am revoked. i am wanderer, i am thoughtless, i am
lost. i am undying, i am inured, i am fleeting. i am
alive, i am mythologized, i am end. i am a thief, i am
a monster, i am alive. i am a philosopher, i am a
thinker, i am superfluous. i am good, i am evil, i am
unaligned. i am pragmastic, i am irrational, i am
common sanity. i am emotional, i am withheld, i am
interred. i am new, i am ruined, i am interregna. i am
proper, i am erased, i am discrection. i am sought, i
am not, i am simple. i am somnolent, i am erratic, i
am errancy. i am abstinence, i am uncontrolled, i am
the world. i am fraught, i am emptiness, i am
humanity. i am dandelion, i am magnolia, i am an
albatross. i am talent, i am intelligence, i am
fettered.    i am here and now, i am then and when,
                     i am done.
i am malice, i am harm, i am self-destruction.
i am a fighter, i am encephalic, i am lost.
i am alone, i am alive, i am free.
Daniel August Aug 2014
If I had had a pocket for every time
you came in the form of a misty leaf,
(sticking to the underside of my

misbelief, drawing attention to
every old logical fallacy that
was, blissfully, missed)

I still wouldn’t have enough to hold
the amount of change we’ve set in motion,
the density of our meaning, nor the

emotions you inflict on me,
from your place on that mountain.
(as if through sorcery);

And I can’t help but imagine you
as some metaphoric fountain,
forever spouting pockets—

The seeds of your actions sprouting
in neat rows of goodwill, and decisive
Indecision, your face half hidden

in some fey magic of mythologized memory
your hair ridden with peaceful fire
and emptiness, your lips set in a

quiet compassion, ashen from
the song of my phoenix lyre,
content in uncontentedness,

knowing that bliss is also not-bliss,
and that every moment spent apart
is a melody of separation: this—

the crafting of some divergent art,
spooky action at a distance, these shadow
figments mere resistance to our own

true nature: the heart’s desire, sown
in every field, every stable, this very
word, and all the fables that persistently

insist that perhaps there’s one more thing
I’ve missed. So I’ll look once more (through
that gateless gate, perceptions door) at your

sleeping face, the oceans floor, clouds weeping,
that distant shore of sandy grace:
outside time, inside space.
From the physiognomy that bruises the vertical from Gaul; axiomatic metempsychosis elements were transferred from corporate primaries to third parties after the incipient expiration of Vernarth. This orphistic or mystical enchantment was brought by Wontelimar from Valdaine, emerging from insane drunkenness on the Ardeche Mountains, transmigrating euphony and medical justifications that were united with the reincarnated Helminth reminiscent of Vernarth. Such was a verme or worm that classified itself in his arm, munching in his elder veins elongated by parasites of commendable colonies and idiomatic, retro-emotional, and lyrical heights. Knowing that its baluster made capital letters in steps and life-giving questions by means of beads, and the oratic chain of Luccica's godmother that awakened in him translating expirative and presumptive psychophysical Zionisms of the eloquent millionth perspectivism of re-trance, when his putrid upright arm was recorded. and landing in his Abrahamic physical departure, dissociating his body, separating and alternating with his dexterous spiral Aorion tri-bracelet between the arm of Sagittarius and the arm of Perseus, liquefying into indissoluble modular stratagems for three bodies, plus the one that accompanied occupying triplets in posthumous individualities. Unconscious metempsychosis singularities brought the right-arm picking him up several times from the discursive hive of Wonthelimar, to convince him and tell him that he had not been with the Hexagonal Progeny for some time, without hindrance it brought him from Ardeche in lasting and concerting sets, gray senses looking at the valleys of Valdaine in pilgrimages towards the expectant Patmian plains. His expiration was reborn from the appendages of the water lilies that were grasped by the recessed lumbar powers and were trans-mentalized into related memories that subsist reincarnationist and degressive in plausive longing when re-advancing with revived intelligence, to indoctrinate themselves when raised from an emetic absolutist consciousness, and free from the greatest breaths of judgment is constant waste and reciprocity on shelves that started from an initial discipline already transmigrated, on skinned ardors eroding from astral ellipses in decayed individualities expiring in the Ego-Xifos (Ego-Sharps), that transpose the gorges that even through Hellenic geography that has not been shed by the blood of a Hetairoi.

Wonthelimar says: “hold on to my lazy arm and embrace Lazarus and his decayed fierceness! in different bodies I have seen your blood hang itself on banners with different super-life monarchies, in the germs of the Valdaine valley avoiding their retreat into fatuous materials that vilified the acrotera of your descended Megaron. Remarking on the genetic tricuspid, and emanating lineages of surviving to invigorate in the dexterous appendage of Aorion, which has to wail from the armpit of Betelgeuse with insensitive patches that mock to see him bleed for more than two thousand years without coagulating in possible anarchies more than nothing, before speculating from where the meager blindness of compassionate triple restraints has germinated, like a split Psychí or soul three times before predicting about the valleys and a castle, in infamous beatifies that do not bleed with me…, Wonthelimar ”. It is possible that they have sublimated us from the apathetic and brief radiance...?, Only in some moor or headland before tearing us from the banners or Vexillum of the inaugural that stuffs its already subsisted vehemence in spaces that are already acroteral, resting on peduncles in floral capitulars. And the immobile ones mold the support pustules…, the sap that runs horribly towards you and behind you! Incontinent to your dehydrated past lives redeeming subsistence and rubbing it, then excluding themselves healed properly from their wounds settled in muddy dreams of reviving them expired. Resulting from its origins from the Mysterium or Musterium as an enclave exacerbated in civil disproportions that were established since the Neolithic, without having sealed the doors of all the species that were trapped in the mysterious ice ages, based on ritualistic doctrines, through eager entities to obstruct lapses in the open air of the Spilaion Apokalypseo, having to be returned in possession of physiognomies and of all the enclosed species of the Neolithic Age ”. The bumblebees loaded with spherical honey in their legs, flew by the assembly of the warriors, crops, pastoral assemblages, and sharp stones that cut the wind that disturb the infants who fear the night sleep in the rough quarries that made them sedentary of venerable thermoregulated and climatic seats. Making of them and us revolutionary discoveries, for the interconnection of cooled flints in forests of Memento or Vademecun, to be erected on the megalithic plains, from where I come, rolling like a circular stone that moves the rocks of the World away from a near east, making some timorous and Asian oratics, I was able to get close to you Vernarth, who since the Neolithic I appear following you without giving up in the horticultural and in bovine frights. In this way, the water lilies and peduncles cordoned off the semoviente, full of thrones to conquer them, almost after having lost the calculations of the plasma that were being innovated from a Hetairoi by being reformulated from its incendiary essence, with such spasm being pardoned in the orbits of those who it the sustain themselves and wait for them bringing elaborate anonymous spare parts. Thus Wonthelimar spreads Greek fire over his golden breastplate, entering his transmigrated soul there, as fiduciaries of naphtha, sulfur, and ammonia in treats of previous and speculated oxygenated suitability that was transmitted in suffocating atmospheres by his deltoid when he detonated hatred in his eyelids.. His ***** inhibited signs of fear and hissing of freedom in fields of glory from a mythologized go diving between desolate flames of excretion, and throwing fuel that was not conceived of the same troubadour in the final redemption. (Among waters, minerals and ureas from the Hephaestus braze where dead proteins of cell warheads were stained, nitrogenizing acids that were from the common verb of Wonthelimar) ”.

The double V merged and intertwined forming an inverted double V, being the metric bulbar of Wonthelimar raising awareness of the upper and lower Vernarthian blocks, night falling towards a density of the same that moved raised on the north deck of the Eurydice ship, while everyone slept in the understand the "V" residing and originating from the annihilating biological duo of the immemorial of Vernarth and the Bumodos river, contemplating the suggestive salvage of sap after overcoming lymphomas in the battle of Gaugamela. Wonthelimar in tender loves misrepresented what he would achieve with his ****** healings next to the bold tributary, leaving in the vanguard and in starts from all the gigs that had condemned to Halicarnassus to be truncated next to infallible Canephores in disgrace to their executioners, branching all the branches of holm oaks of the articular of Wonthelimar that had been sheltering from the head, girdling itself in old debt collector and of souls in pain on the sleeping Nyons. The carriage perennially transshipped hesitant and unconscious individuals that the Falangists invited them to order, and spend the night shining in their Xifos in the bow with the inverted "V" to open up to the abundant exciting sea and find it in some Eden, being assembled in the primary kicks of an anonymous withdrawn, among all the cattle cooked with herbs that did not manage to sprout between one and the other.

The brawl is the symbiosis of the Megaron that exhibited the “M” united with the two inverted “Vs”, conceptualizing in Wonthelimar the vigil of early properties and phobias fragmenting in numerous odes in Thessaly, which were already re-agglutinating attracted from a patriarchal image from Hellas, under the pretext of Hellenistic consummations as a vocational institute race in primitives of Alexandrina Magnus, derived a few nautical miles to approach Patmos. The ship sailed across the sea, pre-conceptualizing the very universal being that revived in the Tracontero, looming out of all the waters like a nubile breaker that spoke to each other with words from Mageireméno Kefáli Votánon, "head cooked with herbs." Speaking in primitive alternate erudition and in tidal waves with more than twelve meters of territorial Argonauts making similar corvettes as the Gulf of Tarnetino, possessing distant and comparative sixty miles of the base that colonized Wonthelimar for new sources when encrypting in the Megaron. They persevere, captaining the Immature Polis that would be documented in Patmos, and in the town councils of the assemblage with ****** ceased battles, climbing towards a great cogitation height of the Megaron temple and the Theater of the Epidaurus, under the three darkness of the lilies bordering the Spilaion Apokalypseos.

In the hemicycle Theater of the Epidaurus, the stars worked for the nations of Asclepius together with Wonthelimar, thus healing emigrated musical sessions in palmistry and Parapsychology, where burdensome marks of interveners expectorated in vast impellers on the Koilones and in their softened and purged bleachers, from where each one was shouting towards all the winds and the advent of all the auditoriums absent by past and future generations, cheering lives in salvific voices, for those who cheer them with additional sheltered and attentive spectators from ultra-semicircular bleachers, not being on stage, better absent more than the actors of a drama to stay alive when they prowled towards the Diazoma, or corridor where all the spectators suffered from the same ordeal of Vernath's right arm and pectoral in decreasing lymphomas, in a greater capacity of incentive and saving grace. After this incident, Wonthelimar became a cause and effect of the Vernarth saga, but of transmigrated formality for the purpose of corresponding survival and of cellular restitution of what had died in him..., thus, everything would begin to be reborn towards a prop in a double aspect. The former commanders who were once his faithful servants would appear before this affront, to antagonize him and make him desist from joining as a Proceriato and Gigantum Form of the heroes of Gaugamela on Patmos.
Wonthelimar
Pearson Bolt Mar 2016
lines of malice are penned
within ancient tomes
black and blue ink bruising
the human psyche beyond recognition

stunting our collective imagination
with fantasies of castles
among the clouds and intergalactic
beings who sculpted us from dust

intermittent smears
of crimson declarations
lingering in blood-soaked texts
painting portraits of putrid prejudice

the image of an illusory deity
devised to explain a cosmos
that defies codification and categorization
we mythologized and told tall tales like Arachne

spinning webs of misinformed misfortune
we're severing the strings of our imaginary enemies  
silencing lives with rusty shears
utterly convinced by the edicts of idiots

how might we disentangle ourselves from mental
cobwebs and embrace reality's promising veracity
each of us an accidental miracle
captains of our own fortune's vessels

so weigh anchor and set course for distant shores
unfurl the sails of reason and hold fast
after weathering millennia of insipid beliefs
we'll sojourn ever onward with omnipotent minds

raze these sycophantic fantasies  
and raise hell so high it becomes heaven
we will build a new city in the shell of this cold
dead society predicated on misanthropic religion
Happy Easter!
Self actualization materialized
like ghost that came back to haunt me!

Figurative silver lining gleaned
from hyperawareness encompassing
great proportion of my existence.

Agonizing enlightenment points
to realization sweeping across avast arc
(nemesis) analogous as dark shadows
from outer limits of twilight zone.

Plethora psychological woes
(cleaving corporeal essence
of yours truly unabated since birth
till present) came into stark focus,
perhaps in combination with mortality,
mental health counseling, and meditation.

Early onset disabling anxiety
undermined joie de vivre!

Samson reborn within
brand name garden variety
twenty first century **** sapien
hirsute trademark characteristic
electrified, empowered, enamored
mirrored reflection validated
once substantial flowing luscious tresses
(now thinly considerably, though
male pattern hair loss not dominant,
justifiable to declare casus belli – ha)

superseded body, mind, and spirit triage
prioritized as most significant
constituent essence passively
potently, pronouncedly exemplified
analogous to declaration of independence
against parental United Kingdom
first impression evoked
heavy metal musician,
this then skinny prepubescent lad
who doth sing a poor

Auld Lang Syne tune
easily mistaken androgynous
long haired pencil necked geek
weathered cruel barbs
harriedly styled swiftly tailored
disproportionately relegated hirsute
feature length non "FAKE"
real McCoy adorning
all important then Hatfield resident
effectively far fetched

gloating prized hair him,
despite primitive diatribes
courtesy loving "mom,"
she did vociferously inveigh
vouchsafed to schtup
ample legal tender,
all to no avail
then authoritarian, militarian née
totalitarian tactics resorted,
I lacked chutzpah to vent anger,

plus self confidence
to vamoose voluntarily negligible,
unnecessary insufferable expletives
out the mouth of she...,
who birthed sole son
passively resistantly intractable
demure, meek, resilient...
even decades later
vicious verbal lashings
brutal brow beating

still affect me
analogous black barbs
(as if shot from a beebee gun)
digging deep into psyche
diminution allotted thinning hair
absent male pattern baldness...,
I surmise to attribute
senescence as the culprit,
hence endless search for
the fountain of youth.
George Washington and Abraham Lincoln
   mythologized commanders in chief
 epitomized supreme martial mien
   and vocalized special flair
talents summoned    

   from their native heart-land motif
 in Modus Operandi of bootstraps dare
acquired evanescent mythic reverence
   extant within bibliographic brief
   and closest role to God like air.

Said first and sixteenth president
   storied figurative bookends
   stood side by side
 honored on anniversary of their birth,

now renown across divers
   places far and wide
 over this one in a million (or billions)
   cosmic entities known as planet Earth

for courage and strength which forged
   that unique American sense and sensibility
   in tandem with prejudice pride
 forthwith esprit de corps touched,

   when above named
   epitomized, , eulogized,
   exemplified strapping youths
   vigorous lifestyle wrought washboard girth
   kindling psyches,

   and lit fires within homes and hearth.
These outsize personas held ephemeral dream
   where fledgling American state
   acquired sterling reputation

   wherein this country
   under aegis of Democracy
   became a winning team.
Among the legends and lore

 surrounding each of these great men 
 their stature grew more and more
 cult like benevolence these paternal figures
 United States can never ignore.
Samson reborn within
brand name garden variety
twentieth century **** sapien
hirsute trademark characteristic
electrified, empowered, enamored
mirrored reflection validated

substantial flowing luscious tresses
superseded body, mind, and spirit triage
prioritized as most significant
constituent essence passively
potently, pronouncedly exemplified
declaration of independence

against parental United Kingdom
first impression evoked
heavy metal musician,
this then skinny prepubescent lad
who doth sing a poor tune
easily mistaken androgynous

long haired pencil necked geek
weathered cruel barbs
harriedly styled swiftly tailored
disproportionately relegated hirsute
feature length non "FAKE"
real McCoy adorning

all important Hatfield resident
effectively far fetched
gloating prized hair him,
despite primitive diatribes
courtesy loving "mom,"
she did vociferously inveigh

vouchsafed to schtup
ample legal tender,
all to no avail
then authoritarianism tactics resorted,
I lacked chutzpah to vent anger,
plus self confidence

to vamoose voluntarily negligible,
unnecessary insufferable expletives
out the mouth of she...,
who birthed sole son
passively resistantly intractable
demure, meek, resilient...
even decades later

vicious lashings still affect me
analogous black barbs
digging deep into psyche
diminution allotted thinning hair
absent male pattern baldness...,
I surmise to attribute
senescence the culprit.
Alek Mielnikow Sep 2018
Took a chance today, and dipped my toe into a
place I never dare to go. I failed. I had hoped
that that would be a nice, happy ending, seeming
tragic yet blessed with the lessons of backbone and
persistence. It’s not. It can never be. Because
I will never let it. All it is is just some
more ammunition for my machine gun head, to
tear me to shreds. Because no matter how much the
intellectual can spot the good ol’ practice-
makes-perfect motif (the idea that because
I at least tried I have made my mark in the right
direction, the clichéd, mythologized concept
that somehow I’m closer to the end of this ****),
my ****** up brain has been meticulously trained
to remind me: I failed, because I fail. I fail.
And every failure is another nail in my
coffin. A coffin that deserves a shallow grave.
david badgerow Apr 2020
I kept my golden hair long and my wings unshorn
to escape the magnet-hold of the earth mother. I am
a flying splinter longing for purity above all; the
ascending son, the moth mad for the light.

I was the great ancient hunter battling the new
psychic terrors and herding the demons of cynicism
and suspicion into clouds like the holy white buffalo
god. Tracking the ghost animal resources of allegiance
and truth against the abject sky of platitudes extended
by industrial *******.

I was waiting to be compensated by the malicious
one for my dainty life above ground. To be whipped
by the same wind who untangled the great sphinx.
To be interrogated by the shape-changing sick god
that dwells on the back side of the moon among
crystallized bat wings and ripped-apart bodies
of the birds we sent him.

I was wallowing in the titanic ashes -- hibernating
to become more human. Tasting the soot of the
death of my father, the sky-king. I was feeding my
body on sleeplessness; meditation, fasting,
occasional flagellation. I was starving out the snake
in my spinal cord, who once grew fat and lethargic on
lager, ecstasy, ******* machismo and astounding
mythologized ***.

I was the paltry son of a weak puddle of indecision
which I have emulated as the sacred king. Drowning
myself in alcohol, living in a dank burrow under
he earth; an oven bird. Existing like mycelium in
the endless subterranean bog.

Inhaling the disparate ether of stardust and
becoming buoyant; then
Exhaling the syrupy ambrosia of solar power into
the blades of grass which grew up through my mouth
and formed a pillow for my silent dreams.

I am the eternal garden boy.
Spading the soil, preparing a place,
sifting ashes into the bedwork from
all my previous warrior deaths. Here I
will grow the abundant climbing vines,
the exotic grains, the fragrant wild flowers
and rare apple trees in geometric design.

And she will approach me there, a sprouted seed --
by the fountain of course, that eternal spring. The
girl of solar fire, the girl who loves gold, and we will
lie together but never to each other. Kissing the fresh
sutures, we will quench each others' souls and be
hermetically sealed together there in the old stone-
walled garden, rolling among the lilies on heaven's
green swell, letting sunlight fall on us like the anvil.

Cloistered, caressing, sequestered in the
warm earth now, bundled together in the sod,
tranquil with the supple bliss of satiety when
every muscle lies snugly like a curved petal
at peace inside the corolla.

Here I will blend rawness into passion,
obsession into desire. Turn brittle
brown manure into shiny green
leaves, luscious roses; Breed
epiphanies from disaster.
Though joyousness impaled,
albeit skewered over poker hot coals
courtesy roaring fiery
molten psychological magma
kindling sparks incinerate
nonetheless inchoate coalescence

asserts, ****** feeble endeavor
fostering, glomming, harking
futile hellbent fixation manifests
imperceptible yearning inclination
atavistic aspiration toward archangel
fleetingly overrides pathos

prevalent within pathetic psyche
regarding mental health
linkedin to mein kampf
oft times erratically spiraling
courtesy grievous gravitational heaviness
simultaneously tripping hair trigger

well targeted landmines cratering
impacting cerebral spheres
out of the blue er...
rather fifty plus shades of gray
egregiously, demonically, catastrophically
blasting aching dormant sentimentality

good times with mine
then adoring little girls
sentimentality mythologized
instantaneously vaporized
i.e. hotmail kamikaze outlaws
indistinguishable from in laws

deep seated bombardiers
devastatingly explode
housed deeply within
subterranean nooks and crannies
loosed blade runners
likened figurative windmills spin

madly maxed out
ache'n throb exhausts me
frenzied furious fitbits,
while archenemies incessantly lob
hand grenades pepper spray
senselessly, shamelessly, spectacularly

strafing third eye blind
quickly, nee instantaneously pulverize
incinerating insight into bajillion little pieces
also vaporizing sanity
into smithereens
futile writing relief,

a weathered vane effort
undermined attempts
to accrue spiritual succor
analogous to volcanic bombs
raining nsync with deadly earthquake
forlorn hope for salvation nil!
1492 unleashed, jump/
kick started, and downloaded
a bittorrent götterdämmerung
spelling genocide of indigenous peoples
occupying Turtle Island,
now surviving tribes
just a shell of their former grandeur.

At present Columbus day
linkedin with high dudgeon
courtesy scattered remnants
of once proud nations
occupying contiguous United States
plus calling Alaska and Hawaii
their happy hunting grounds,
enshrine actual or mythologized
spectacular pièce de résistance
instances when counting coup.

I recollect needing to know
scores of years ago
when a student attending grade schools
within Lower Providence District
as an important bit of information
contributing to (white washed) history
of western civilization
(and never forgot)
recalling the names Nina, Pinta,
and Santa Maria associated
with heroic measures undertaken

by Cristóbal Colón,
(but also been referred to,
by himself and others, as Christoual,
Christovam, Christofferus de Colombo,
and even Xpoual de Colón)
five hundred and thirty years ago,
who purportedly "discovered"
the Americas, when in
fact native occupants of the land
already dwelled upon
the then island paradises.

He/him and subsequent swashbuckling
gung-** high spirited men
set sail across expanse of ocean(s)
exhibiting eager intent to claim
untrammeled storied quintessentially
opulently magnificent kingdoms
intoxicating greedy Europeans.

Blatant exploitation inexorably nudged
courtesy trickery vis a vis hook and crook
to grab good & plenty treats
forcibly wrested by violence
sabotaging the delicate webbed wide world
constituting millenniums of heavenly bliss,
where marauders wantonly ransacked
indeed lacking absolute zero selflessness
forcing diverse autochthonous nations
to acquiesce and surrender
ancestral grounds to aggressive, coercive
and offensive Europeans hell bent
to populate occupied territory

commandeering, humiliating, manhandling,
poisoning, subdividing, triangulating
every square inch
encompassing fruitful grand home
of rightful heirs to stolen
near boundless tracts
eventually hashtagging uncharted
pristine green acres
spanning from sea to shining sea
becoming commercial real estate
falsely claiming a haven
housing home of the free
land of the brave.
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2023
Some people get mythologized
Jesus, Mohammed, the Buddha
The mystery is why
Why and how and when

Thomas Builds-the-Fire
Dr. William Thomas
Linkoping Cathedral
San Francisco Zen

My nights are lonely quiet
To sleep perchance to dream
Coached volleyball twice in Taipei
Head coach from Canada: Ken.

I don't know what synchronicity is
Or UFOs
Or aliens
3710
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2021
India in my mind today
My cousin in Bangalore

Father Stan Swamy
The open closing door

Gandhi was mythologized
But something in him mythic

Cometh Christ the Tiger
David Markson: Light terrific?
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2021
Jesus was mythologized
Because of the way he died.

George W. was exposed
Because of the way he lied.
Qualyxian Quest Dec 2022
I've been reading lately about Thomas More
Known as a man for all seasons
Jesus got mythologized
The Church had its reasons

The Gospel of Thomas for my dad
He's a bit intrigued
Ishmael's uncannonical Rabbins
Uncannonical indeed

I like Thomas Merton
Died in Samutprakan
Which is where my relatives live
Fr. Louis lingers on

Thomas means the Twin
And I'm a Gemini
At night in San Francisco
Reading Life of Pi

       Ay! Ay! Ay!
Qualyxian Quest Jan 2023
The Catholic Church is old and male
Seattle is grey and green
She is 53
Ah! But when she was 17!

Everybody loves Italy
Pasta, good red wine
If Jesus was from Mississippi
World of strange design

Jesus got mythologized
After he got Crucified
Marguerite Porete burned alive
George W. Lied

I drove South from Seattle
San Francisco Zen
You shoulda seen the sky tonight
And you shoulda seen her when ...

                        3710
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2021
Jesus was mythologized
Because of the way he died

George W. was debunked
Because of the way he lied
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2021
Jesus was mythologized
Because of the way he died.

George W. lives in infamy
Because of the way he lied.
Qualyxian Quest May 2021
I've mythologized myself
So I will be debunked

No sacred Warrior Poet
Just a bunch of junk

But still I keep on fighting
A couple curious songs

Mistakes and some lamplighting
In a world gone oh so wrong

             Dr. Thomas
             Fr. Greeley
            Harry Wong
Qualyxian Quest Oct 2021
Jesus got mythologized
Why, Judi, why?

Wendy at the wedding
Susan in the sky

Catteleya's tulips
I reread Life of Pi

Musta been somethin' about him
Romans watched him die

                 I Thai wai
Jesus got mythologized
The human mind in need
The cremation of Sam McGee
A pal's last need a thing to heed

I woke up in Charlotte
Poem in a dream
3710
I play for my team

               Silent Scream
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2021
My sons on the phone tonight
I'm Carolina blue
I sense eternal silence
Is what would Jesus do
Jesus was mythologized
Maybe I'll be too
Or maybe I'll be forgotten
Like a used worn out shoe

       Or maybe I'll be you?
Qualyxian Quest Aug 2021
I'm attracted to mythology
May have mythologized my self

Tolkien in childhood
Markson on my shelf

Time can be for trusting
Take those daily steps

Practicing compassion
Like practing weight reps

                Strength!
Qualyxian Quest Dec 2020
Jesus was mythologized
Which is why his name still lives

I don't believe we survive our death
But I do believe the Silence gives

Our loved ones time to meditate
Can memories remain?

Like cycling in the Stockholm sun?
Or riding the Taipei train?

A spot of precious together time
In this world of pressing pain.
Qualyxian Quest Dec 2020
Jesus was mythologized
Because of the way he died

Are myths tales of deepest truths
Or the way the ancients lied?

Haven't left my place today
All day I stay inside

No longer own a car
Can't give myself a ride

Please write on my tombstone:
He was one who tried.

— The End —