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TW Smith Aug 2013
When last I had seen merry England
It was tattered with midnight soot that beckoned the denouement of the human condition.
Begrudgingly, the people meandered with heads held low
And dreams held lower.
The simplest way to determine the societal standings of each and all was by their clothing; save that all of their dispositions were ones of the played out and spent.
Happiness lay mountains, valleys, oceans away.

Aboard this great ship,
This hulking bumberdun of wood and steel,
I felt at ease.
Even upon these hostile tides did I feel an unraveling away of the self imposed mummifications that I had attached to myself.
I arose when I pleased,
I dined when I pleased,
And I drank as I pleased.
And not one such "captain" ****** himself with the responsibility of slavedriving.
No one had to.
For the man that suaded the great ship was John Franklin,
A man who commanded as much respect as we could muster.
And who deserved more honor than existence could give.

Franklin was never seen out of form,
Perpetually at the fore and scanning the horizons
Seemingly as if he could see beyond what that of a mortal man could,
What that of a mortal man should.
When we happened upon the mouth of the passage,
Naught but a slight smile escaped him
As the crew drank and shouted with jubilant glee that one might expect from a cathedral when the Lord Almighty had fell upon that place.
For this was Franklin's church
And this was his religion.
Had he believed himself to be God it would not have seemed so far fetched that others would not be led to believe.
But then a tear,
A small and just single tear,
Lazed from his eye
Leaving a trail that one might expect from a dove with no concrete destination.
A hush fell over the men.
All merry making ceased.
All stared in wild-eyed awe towards the regal, icy mountain ranges on the horizon.
Lush, full meadows blanketed the grounds along the mainland.
Whatever paths we had followed to this point were routes well cut.
The sadness,
Sorrow,
Joy,
And loss,
All things fell by the wayside.
Some men prayed,
Others began singing.
Regardless of religious preference,
Each man joined in,
Not so much singing as it were wailing and graciously weeping Amazing Grace
As Franklin led the choir.

God is a mountain in the farthest north of the Americas
And Heaven lay in his valley.
Zachary Neal Sep 2015
She can no longer gaze upon the eyes of man and feel an emotion.

She is hurt, yet unscathed.

No longer bound by the mere limitations of 'suaded speech and prominent eyes.

She is burdened yet free.

No more a slave to her appearance for others than she is to her snow-touched beauty nor to the she to which autumn's embrace darkens her to perfection

She is in disbelief, yet trusting.

Hopeful that those that have walked all paths can understand hers without so much as a lie to deceive what reality calls truth.

Moreover, she is all, but one.

She decided to put an end to what is determined as life, still breathing, but now as one, she walks for all....alone.
As your man, I may be MAIN, but never underestimate, I know your PAIN.
GAETANO Dec 2015
Sitting here, gazing out the window.
Watching the rain falling down.
The sky is dark and gray.
People outside are running  here and there.
People running from here going there, or,
People running from there coming here.
People of all shapes and sizes scurrying.
Like ants at a picnic.
The rain is heavy, I'm hoping it will fill the  void.
It's a gray day.
Lending its color to my mood.
Putting people in a gray mood.
Putting lives into gray moods.
Putting days in a gray mood.
We allow ourselves to be 'suaded by the weather.
Don't we see the weather is OUTSIDE?
The Human soul resides within.
Sheltered from assailants,
By the human body.
Don't allow that which is WITHOUT,
To migrate WITHIN.
For if you do,
You give your sanity over to insanity.
THAT will become your new master.
RATHER than calm serenity, your true norm.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2021
We
imagined living easy. Ai, easily, as art intuits
beaux
bon chance, as light would have it,
were eyes
the ***** of
the master sense,
the dominant receiver, transceiver, if we think of gleams
shining things glimpsed
in eyes,
and beams of love or hatred from eyes,
depicted in ever so many pointing stories see, see, me
I tell the truth
I give the push pro-verbial, way to go
edgewise

free, listen, free
and none, among the rooted things
here since ever was, earthly
fully functional systems
of sequence, first this
then that, time and
chance and next
perfect, step by step learn the dance… do as we say we do
none
of those things dis-suaded me, sweet, I say, one taste,
I am persuaded,
I am called of all that is called god, good.

Now, that is a breath of fresh air, given a bit of thought
to offer you as sacred sufficiency in time of need,
- feeling useless
yeah, about as helpful as thoughts and prayers,
right, like a medicine, or an enema,
that's what a good laugh
is worth, and why I am the fool
who laughs at, as opposed
to making jokes, faking you into thinking
this old man has been to the pig sty, he seen
- dead pig farmers fed to the pigs?
- really?
- feels like we all have seen plenty too ugly,
- yest none too beautiful, so far
Funny is a funny word, fun, is just life, not funny,
funny is when it works together for an advertised high,
we all get the lid open and crawl in the box…

always asking what do we think about this, is this funny?

Are we there yet?

yet another time passes, unredeemed, seems none care,
all cares,
cast away, these folks think living is easy
once you find a place where it can be done
with tools,
used in times past to conform fools to information,
ee see re worked info, woe, y' know
new package, same old please, to meetcha
I am the ghost of your chance exposure to
information forms fitting privvy circumstances in the think tank.

Right, and some things can go wrong,
so those do,
go. Wrong, go. Right, learn,
step from the edu-line, linger near the edge

but the odds are steeper, for mortal minds with mini
augments, like knowledge of smartphones,
but, fret not,
minds that augmented,
empowered to know such things as tekhne,
not sacred secret codes to reach distances un dreamed
and draw wind and rain, and make fire,
wow, biggie, that
make fire.

Figure that out. Cast-out, outsider, driven from the fire,
go
find a fire of your own.

-Woe, imagine, might I, or must I go
back and beg
see me, see me, open heart to mind empathos see
my pain
my pain
for you to see me, see me, worthy of warmth…

Nah, kid, this is how the Spartans did it.
First seven minutes of Gunga, the movie, did it, makes birth
seem, painless, to the sow,

some how, that can't be fair, but then
pigs live like pigs,
except in stories. Men act as pigs act, naturally,
we need
we need the juices to flow, this is the reason

for the thaw.
So quit ******* about the warming and handle the waste.

The world is able to heal its own wounds,
let patience be our by word,
long times redeemed in short stories leave a lot to be
desired, who
sired you, the person you are who reads this drizzle,
Hot fudge,
dam, right, break bread with the ghost of a thought
and think
I thought that was right, first time
I knew,

the magic is in recalling how it feels to think all that has been
thought again,

this is the effect of the real crossroads deal ending when I say, enough.
One day at a time.
Thinking you read this is what makes it fun to write it, no agenda that I sense,
has infected the leaven I sneeze.

— The End —