"valueless" poems
I'm No born free
I tasted the dust of apartheid
My mother was hiding behind the trees screaming for help
No one was there
No time to sleep
We were cursed for struggle
My father never smiled when my mother would say "the baby is kicking"
Cause he knew,it wasn't the kick of joy
It wasn't a sign of being a soccer star
It was the struggle!
1990 Mandela was out of prison
1993 I was born
1994 the Dom's were free
No more Dom-pass,but not uhuru still
Innocent souls were lost
What was the fighting worth for?
I can forgive but never forget
When De klert called black fools
He said they do nothing but barking
We turned to dogs now
This is for Steve Biko
Chris Hani
Hector Paterson
Raymond mhlaba
Let not my skin define who I am
Let not the earth describe me
I know my future because of my history
I was raised in a town of fallen angels
Where blacks were deceived
Whites felt free
Turn the lights off we all the same colour
Don't turn them on
I want my son to know the history
But to not repeat it.
They say follow your leader
How can you follow corruption?
Zuma this zuma that
Its all illusion
I'll only follow u twitter
I want you to retweet all the ish I'll be posting about you,the Raping,The Nkandla part,The Cheating,The Art and the bunch of wives
Yes I voted,I still don't know why I voted
Helen Zille only speaks xhosa in time of elections
Jacob Zuma gives free taxis only to the voting station
Julius Malema will bring apartheid back it is said on radio stations
Mandela spent most time in hospital
All of a sudden his dead
Was he even in jail before?
Oscar Pistorius ran to ****
His now a criminal.
Mandela note on my hand
But valueless
Our economy is dying
Our world is dying
My Dear South Africa..No Power!
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
STOP CREEPING
(Road signs in Australia thus remind us to keep to the speed limit)
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
William Shakespeare: MacBeth, Act 5 Scene 5.
Creeping, seeping, peeping, sleeping,
What’s the common factor through these ‘eep’ words deeming?
Shakespeare calls them dusty and aligns them up with death.
Our world calls it shadow but it chokes you out of breath.
Churches cannot see them so they flout invisible.
Jesus calls them idols yet they sound so plausible.
Christians follow teachers in a roundabout way.
Teachers crave disciples which determines what they say.
But these are all poor players on a poorly structured stage.
Their stage gives way. They tumble. They rise up in a rage.
“Life has not been fair,” they say, and “Where is God in that?”
Did they ask Him in the first place? Did they call God up to chat?
The churches have no answers. Now where do I go from here?
Go right back to the Bible, Friend. The truth is written there.
Check it yourself. It’s relevant to eras far and near.
Like natural laws it cannot change with fashion year to year.
So do not mix the fashion in philosophies of life
With Truth that stands forever among raging seas of strife.
Counselling in modern terms can get you sympathy,
But will it give you backbone for the next antipathy?
Feminism needed to support the weaker staff,
But now of our humanity it rejects one whole half!
And money is too much an issue when it must be said
That what is not of love is valueless to Christ our Head.
Of all the thousands who are found in church each seventh day,
How many can indeed discern the right and faithful way?
How many put their lives on hold for truth and nothing less?
How many first set out their plan and build their faith round this?
Is there not one who will apply to God for his blueprint
So s/he can play the part of power for treasure in Heaven’s mint?
The Spirit of Truth cannot be found where ideas pull such weight.
He’s somewhere else you don’t suspect. Chase Him, and don’t be late!
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
insignificant and worthless...
Loathsome and valueless....
I'm nothing to you...!
I'm nothing....
not a reason to smile...
not a tear of your eye...
you always want to depart.....
I'm not a throb of your heart...
I want to be something to you...
Ah! still I'm nothing to you....
It's hard to find....
why I got you on mind....
I wonder why you mean the world to me.....
yeah! It's true
I'm nothing to you
then why you mean everything to me.....!
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 5:14 AM UTC
How Poets routinely tell lies or truth with great "sincerity"
and earnest projections of "poetic charisma" and lashings
of "who me tell lies?".
and yet they routinely avoid truthfulness, in case they forget the power of lies and truth, in their search for fame.
Mesmerised by its attendant celebrity groupmind and of course its wealth..
Indeed Poets don't want to know that truthfulness
has nothing to do with truth.
Indeed Poets don't want to know that truth
is a lie and a lie is truth,
two sides of a darkened mirror
and both are equally valueless
except for seeing false faces in..
Poets bleat on about how the shackleable object of their 'love' ,
she or he, are not theirs to own
or categorise or monopolise.
yet they keep on expecting full submission
and just getting an empty back,
and a disappearing set of footprints.
Like the sheep and goats that Poets are,
they bleat on endlessly
about their wants their wants their wants.
They want fame as Poets--disguised as distribution deals.
They want contracts to produce garbage for HallMark--as if..
They want **** licking critical acclaim--from **** licking critics.
They want international poetry prizes from aesthetic morons--
wearing Armani suits.
They want Groupies--but not *******
They want Media eulogies--but not truthfulness.
Always are they deliberately forgetting that
"you cant always get what you want".
The last thing that Poets want is what they need most of all.
They really need
An end to the narcissism of those
that want to be called "poet"--in your dreams.
An end to the juvenile arrogance that motivates them to put up strings
of meaningless associated words
and vainly call them poems.
An end to childish immaturity, and inchoate meandering
through other peoples words and experiences, stealing others lives
and characters.
Always incessantly pretending that because
they can read the words of others
that they have also shared their experiences--indeed their experience was deeper wider higher.
In another day and age of non-violent sensibility
these kind of Poets would
be called thieves and liars.
In this day and age they scribble emotional garbage
and pretend its "poetry"--encouraged by intellectual follies.
As poets they have become walking proto cash registers.
Sin Verguensa.
Sin Verguensa.
Sin is Spanish for without.
Poets are SIN integrity.
Poets are SIN Truthfulness.
Poets are SIN decency.
Poets are SIN.
Im so glad I could never be mistaken for a Poet.
Wouldnt want to be mistaken as a poet.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
the definiton of a non ******* factor is you
something or someone that doesnt matter and i wont give my energy to
a selfless or worthless human being
who is miserable unhappy and on pity and drama they feed
i dont give a **** about you your feelings or thought
all in my business you seem to care alot
non factor *** *****
save yaself the embarrassment when you see me dont say ****
no snares, conversation, or smart comments
there are alot of things in this world that dont matter
and one of those things are ppl like you non ******* factors
when your name pops up these things come to mind
valueless,cheap,shoddy,useless,ineffective,and not worth time
along with fruitless,unavailing,pointless, oh and good for nothing slim
now since i knw your slow go to a dictionary to define
you are a disaster created by a ****** tragic mistake
something your mother didnt want but having an abortion became a option to late
**** more like dirt under my shoe
aww look at the non ******* factor get mad just look at you
go ahead run ya mouth let ya teeth chatter
who the hell is going to listen to a non ******* factor......
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 10:32 PM UTC
LIFE! I know not what thou art,
But know that thou and I must part;
And when, or how, or where we met,
I own to me 's a secret yet.
But this I know, when thou art fled,
Where'er they lay these limbs, this head,
No clod so valueless shall be
As all that then remains of me.
O whither, whither dost thou fly?
Where bend unseen thy trackless course?
And in this strange divorce,
Ah, tell where I must seek this compound I?
To the vast ocean of empyreal flame
From whence thy essence came
Dost thou thy flight pursue, when freed
From matter's base encumbering ****
Or dost thou, hid from sight,
Wait, like some spell-bound knight,
Through blank oblivious years th' appointed hour
To break thy trance and reassume thy power?
Yet canst thou without thought or feeling be?
O say, what art thou, when no more thou'rt thee?
Life! we have been long together,
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
'Tis hard to part when friends are dear;
Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear;--
Then steal away, give little warning,
Choose thine own time;
Say not Good-night, but in some brighter clime
Bid me Good-morning!
2.5k
The machinesed drones droning ozones
made of homogenised genes by replicants
from clinical doctrines and empirical indulgences
Soulless and efficient, bred for duties destructives
Capitalist fodder, programmed ready for earth's ****
Regulate as required, inputted subs with pigs hearts
Made followers with voracious appetite for blood
mechanised barbarians on leash with one track mix
Human shire horses in designer shods and faulty gauges
Manufactured manufacturers limited and corollated
Factories, dormitories partnered with like, watered
and bedded till tomorrow, audiod to the Sterling whip
Given ample ales, keep blinded and chained
Distract and cater to baser instincts, *** *** ***
Free 'love' free *** valueless values, what values
Enjoy kids must return to work desk seven on the dot
Time is money, clogs and production
waits for no man, do or your pleasures denied
Money, money money, honey for bees, honey for drones
Soulless, dehumanised, pale, aged at thirty, heart attacks next
Vacuous ghost programmed dunces
Malfunctioning entities devoid of humanity
Superficial plasticated robots, destruction default
Industrial pieces with industrial minds
Chemicalized drunks with wired brains
They roam around screaming freedom and power!
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
Jonathan Anderson's collections walk a confounding tightrope between naïveté and decadence. Much of his new menswear looked like clothes for a futuristic, spiritual retreat (Anderson himself said he wanted something "laid-back, Zen-like"), but the buckled patent shoes were purest dancehall honky-tonk. The fitted leather jackets were pretty flashy, too, especially when contrasted with multi-pleated pants in plainest calico or denim.
"He took himself seriously," said the voice-over that launched Michel Gaubert's stirring soundtrack (a journey all in itself), but that felt like Anderson poking a little fun at his own expense—or at least anticipating reactions to his quirky rationale. He insisted his collection was actually like an imaginary world that a child might create for himself, akin to the tree houses he and his brother used to build. The preciousness that such a boy would bestow on things that are essentially valueless was reflected in the ordinary objects—keys, tools—that were transmuted into jewelry, the board game that mutated into a constructivist jacquard, and the calico or denim artfully constructed into the pants that made up the foundation of the collection. Some of the models were carrying a small metal frame on which curious little things were suspended, almost like charms to ward off who knows what.
That subtly occult tinge has become something of an Anderson signature, the way he disturbs the refined with the raw, for instance—a thin strand of bamboo or a bandage of calico nipping the waist, or a crude smear of paint across a tulle top so fine it is barely there, or even a white feather stuck to a shoulder. Such touches feel last-minute spontaneous, but also off-kilter, which is exactly where Anderson wants to keep us. But his work is now so consistent that off-kilter is proving a rather pleasant place to be.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
Stars can only be seen in darkness,
A wealthy foundation has nothing to do with greatness,
Love is not completely selfless,
The journey to heaven is not painless.
Nothing is is actually valueless,
the boldest isn't completely fearless,
death doesn't always mean one is breathless,
And Judges are often truthless.
Denial might be an act of pureness,
Rejection a show of kindness,
Speaking up attimes can be senseless,
And a hug does not always represent oneness.
A soldiers retreat doesn't always mean weakness,
An enemy's surrender might be smartness,
A woman's smile may not be happiness,
A child's determination might be born out of emptiness.
Marraige vows are usually baseless,
We are alive because our hearts are restless,
Scientists are mostly clueless,
Psycologists usually feel helpless.
Caring for the poor might be termed madness,
But many wealthy are now homeless,
And even if we're not treated with fairness,
You and i are definitely priceless.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
The cry
of the barrel screams
Screams resound across the earth's
Great Expanse
Expands from the lowlands of Vail to
the valleys of Los Angeles to
the depths of Oceania to
the oceans of death and,
after incessantly increasing,
incredulously stops.
Except not really.
Really, to most Valians,
he was just a name in passing,
fluttering past consciousness just long enough
to get a "poor thing" or a "shame."
Really, his body hit the cement a full
7 hours, 6 minutes before his parents came work
from home, not the other way round,
Saw the alien body of their offspring, then the corpse,
and threw themselves
at lawyers, counselors, and more lawyers
as each professional debated which lover
he wanted as his teammate in the opening of
The Blame Games.
Really, the cessation of Adam's heart
didn't open the gates in exuberant expectation of
The true savior.
His beats stopped when
the world began
The lost change in between his seat cushions
never had just one meaning.
Really, he never thought he would
ever amount to more than a dollar.
Really, the only question that matters,
the only entreatment with gravity,
is, Was he right?
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
"I've come here as a man in shamblesworn out from begging on my knees.
Please, I'm just trying to keep my family together.
Now, when you saw you're lover wore a ring around her finger, why didn't you stop?
I have half a mind to make you hurt, to make you bleed, to make you suffer.
I swear, if you've touched her, oh, heaven,
Forgive what I would do to you, you monster.
And think about your children?
They'll never believe what you've done.
Listen, I'm begging you, back off.
Let me rebuild all the things that you shattered.
She meant it, I swear that she meant it, she whispered so often,
'Husband, I'll always be here with you.'
But always is always and always is valueless.
I wish I'd never heard her speak a word.
And I hope you see us;
your wife, and your children, and I,
Buried in the wreckage of your crime,
While you're laying down your sins,
Softly leaning in to kiss your guilt goodnight.
She is mine. You stole her, somehow tricked her but we'll survive. We will. She loves me dearly, you'll see. You are blind. She loves me dearly.
Breathe in.
He finally paused to take a breath
Then looked down. It felt like staring into hell.
The man was seated in a chair before him, silent,
A statue framed in pain and flesh. He thought,
**"Oh, what more can I say to sway him? To make this statue speak?
I swear he's made of stone and I am barely stirring up a breeze."**
And after waiting in the silence,
Finally turned around to leave.
Broken and barely through the doorway,
Breathing slowly, beating hard, he heard him speak:
**"I guess love's a funny thingthe way it fades away without a warning.
It doesn't ask to be excused.
And when it's goneoh, it's goneand it ain't ever comin' back.
There is nothing you can do to save it,
To make it breathe the way it did when you were sliding on the ring.
Trust me: It's gone for good.
Now there is nothing you can do to stop me.
She is happy when she is with me and I am finally alive. I'm sorry."**
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Nightmares.
Edge of a bridge.
Very distraught.
About to jump.
Life is valueless.
Screaming.
Sirens.
People encircled to talk me out of it.
Or to watch.
I laugh wildly.
An officer is earnestly appealing me to come back over the railing.
Lucifer manifests beside me.
*"You won't do it.
This is a cry for help and you've always been quite the attention seeker.
So go on, jump.
Mean it you coward, you fool.
Make the world a better place.
Waste the knowledge I've bestowed upon you.
You are merely a pupil to my eye.
I shall know your soul."*
One foot teetering forward,
Gust of wind knocks me back into the railing.
An angel appears to my right.
Glance left
Satan particulates into a thousand specks of nothing.
And dissipates in the breeze.
The officer is shouting indistinctly somewhere in the background.
**"Be not tricked by that devil,
for his only power over you is fear.
Know the light and his evil shall not penetrate your sphere.
Lest ye be swayed, then truly the end is nigh"**
I come to my senses.
The officer lends me his hand and helps me back over the railing.
The crowd erupts in applause.
I finally know my life purpose,
I'm overjoyed and overcome with happiness.
My range of vision is spiked with the most vivid palette of colors.
With an about-face I am struck by a bus.
Floating somewhere above my body, watching myself
I question the nature of existence
and awake before I'm offered a reply
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
Shallowness got them waiting on a valueless ♡letter.
Whilst You've sent them a ♡book, containing 114 ♡chapters.. Oh Loving One, if they only knew better.
Darkness got their hearts blindfolded, they can't see.
He, not my brother, has the soul of a detainee.
Whilst Your Light gave us sight, the opportunity to just be and for our souls to remain free.
...
Though, there are times where we don't know how to pursue.
Naggingly we beg You to help us through,
Cause all we want is being so heavenly close to You.
Guide, please help the lost too,
And please ٱلْغَفَّارُ forgive this veiled crew.
Every interaction makes me blue.
Oh only if the meaning to Your divine words they knew..
Almost everyday my soul sang,
Trying to cope with the fact that I couldn't get along,
With those who are constantly whispering another song.
I felt left out for generations,
Not impressed by their so called sensations,
Not dealing the same way with worldly temptations.
To the extent that I almost doubted what we inhaled,
It couldn't be the same, with their hearts veiled..
Made me think about us being scaled, and therefore not wanting to act derailed.
I've left myself out of this tremendous way of living,
Only to hear them whisper what I should be giving,
Parts of my soul and body - why bother, isn't He Most Forgiving?
Now I can't say I do,
I give away parts of my breath whenever I try to exhale - for if they only knew..
My soul is still intact, my body attached to the feeling of obeying You.
Feb 14, 2021
Feb 14, 2021 at 8:03 PM UTC
I remember when you asked me if I had ever wanted to be someone else and all I could think about was wanting to be the person you thought about when you fall asleep,
I'm ***** a greedy, selfish, fool,
To think that I was everything you ever wanted out of anybody, I kissed you softly, and I could tell no one ever treated you, that nicely
You flinched at the sight of my hands and you never finished your dinners,
You're gone now and I'd like to think I'm still bitter, just to prove to everyone around me that you didn't mean a single thing, but honestly, as much as I want to call you a nobody, a nothing, you taught me absolutely everything
You always slept with a night light on because you were afraid of the dark and what it had to offer,
I was never scared of anything, maybe that was my problem,
We never worked things out and I was just angry that when it came to yours, I could never solve them,
I was under the impression that in time it would get easier but all it got was harder
Your father was an honest man, and maybe that's why he left your mother,
Maybe you can't sleep at night because the ones who are after you, just want another, like you do,
I see you're badly broken, me too,
Let me be your caretaker, I can fix you, I've done a lot to the world and I owe everyone in her a favor or two
I guess I'm just over compensating for something you made me feel like I was always missing,
And now it's all in my head,
I can't think of anything else besides you when it's raining,
I remember you grabbed me and pulled me into it, but you made me think we were just playing,
We let it go further than either of us wanted but I guess that's just what we get for thinking it would stop the hurting,
Over everything else I just wish you would've listened to a single word I was saying
We used to load our bodies up like guns and unload our clips into each other, using our bodies for target practice every night, but we never seemed to hit each other's mark,
The sparks fly and the room catches fire, but we stay where we are
I tried to dip the world in gold but it was still so ugly and valueless to me, I should've never let you make me think you were the only thing my eyes could see,
Maybe I should just walk around naked, finally feel vulnerable in front of someone else besides just you and me
I didn't mean to ruin this,
I never really mean to ruin anything,
But I guess everyone has their hobbies
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
~one more for Joel~
The “valuations” methodology taught me forty plus years ago,
now rendered valueless, and yet,
the devils remind in
humongous whispers,
confuse not price
(or reads)
with value!
To a man I never met, and now,
will not yet on this Earth,
this process, to estimate,
what a man’s worthy words
are but worth exactly,
how much???
It matters greatly,
for one has come to realize
these scattering of poems
will be my repute,
my legate in reverse,
to see me forward,
you will need to see me
in reverse.
Oct 3, 2023
Oct 3, 2023 at 9:26 PM UTC
A zero on its own may hold no value
But add a zero to 10 and behold you get a 100
And the value of zero seems to increase exponentially
Just think in terms of 100,000, add a zero and walla! it's 1,000,000
So, it gives rise to the question
What is really the value of zero
Does Zero mean nothing?
Or does it depend on how you place it?
What if a manager said, 'the production showed zero growth rate'
Would the management shout in glee or consider firing?
Is it silly to think zero is valueless when logically
adding zero at the end of any number only makes it more by tens?
Yes, I'm certifiably crazy but that is not the point!
The point is life is full of paradoxes
So why is that we adamantly stick to one theory of belief
When any number of theories could be true or not
like birth and death and yes of course 'God'!
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 4:39 AM UTC
The monetary balance has gone crazy
In this world we call our home,
The fiscal market's shot to hell
Stock collapsing like a stone.
The hedge deals are un sellable
Most banks refuse to loan
Good real estate is valueless
The roof's a "Plummet Zone".
Oh yes the suits are stepping out for air
And falling like a stone,
Termination of their worries
Beats explanations on the phone.
There's always a dependable
To help clean up the place,
And oblivion's a better option
Than awkward questions and disgrace.
Capitulating companies,
Whole nations in default
The piggy banks are bulging
With the greenbacks from the vault.
The banks refuse to part with cash
Lines of depositors do queue
And the finance houses shut their doors
Explaining, briefly, "Well...Fuck you!"
Heads of Government meet and talk
The photo ops are really grand,
Banner headlines in the daily's
Report resolutions that seem bland.
The fanfare and the hoopla
Announce the remedy is payoffs....
And global confidence is sprinting
For the trees...In panicked chaos!
But the C.E.O's are catered for
Their future is secure,
There's several million tucked away
In the Cayman Island tour.
Unfortunate about the desolation left behind
But these things are bound to happen
When the blind do lead the blind.
There will be some opportunities,
Some bargains coming up
And the prudent keep the check book close
For when the number's up...
Of all those struggling little people
Who bravely slave away
And collapse before they realize
Their firm's capacity to pay.
So What's around the corner?
Do we hide our heads in sand?
Do we kiss our **** goodbye
And join the suits in splatter land?
Or do we bravely hoist our trousers
Hitch our belts another notch,
And convince ourselves that someone
Higher up has got the watch
And the ability to work out
What the hell is going on..
And deliver us from evil
Before the world is ****** gone?
Marshalg
Mangere Bridge.
8th October 2008
Oct 23, 2009
Oct 23, 2009 at 2:54 PM UTC
a shell, a rock, valueless
token of exchange
Cain's creation, perhaps,
impelled by hunger and his mark
today a non attributable lie
a picture of true faith
- but the sword still stands -
speaks more truth than any word can
deeper its insidious roots grow
for the greater its seeming efficacy
displacing the currency of love
for my enemies love me as themselves
but the lie is true
gnawing from the inside out
from nations, to businesses, to people,
a soulless heartless ********** remains
by the sword you live, by the sword you die
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 11:19 PM UTC
I know who I am
behind the acne and whack beats
without the coke lines and heat
burning my throat from the cigarettes that
greet my teeth and seep into my lungs
I know what I find fun
and what I find dumb
I'm complete
introverted, a bit cheesy, but
not afraid to be me,
it has left me lonely
"Just be yourself"
but somehow that has me
sitting on the shelf
unnoticed and left to melt
not even a side course
let alone a meal
no protien
in me
I'm valueless to most people
those who eat meat
and those who don't
I was king of nothing
and now I've been dethroned
so *****
unknown
gone
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 1:40 AM UTC
If there's a way to dig a little deeper into
a new layer of skin, tap into
something in our bones that hasn't already
been analyzed and speculated by
doctors under bright white lights on cold
impersonal tables surrounded by
an army of masked, gloved and
sanitary conscious individuals-
a method of existing that hasn't
been romanticized and isn't cliche,
I'd really like to know.
Because in vicious turbulent cycles I'm falling head first
for things that have been worshipped
so many times in trance-like
moments of adolescent anguish and
pretenses of solitude seeking introverts that lie
to themselves cause they don't have
the guts to do it to others.
Who the hell is alright behind a smile masking a cringe?
And all the tropes idolized and hymns
murmured by Sad folk
don't really make you feel special anymore
cause you've lost your individuality
by stepping into yet another trap.
But then again hating all things has long ago been branded as
valueless, when in fact
values are the only things you're really searching for.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC
tranquility completely immersed me
into a euphoria
that had no end or beginning
it was a state of limbo
everything halted to a slow
disappearing winds left me breathless
craving the touch of human skin
descending into paralysis
yet being restless and energized
staring into gaunt vacant eyes
everything was valueless
all collectively disconnect
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
A marble Stone from the earth
Beautiful in every way to God
Found by those who labored odd
And thus rejected. Without worth
This very piece of quaried Rock
"Valueless" and thrown away
Is a Cornerstone unto this day
The most important building block
Blood weeps, as tears, within it's cracks
For it is built upon a hill
But the lost reject it still
Though in it's HEART there is no lack
Within that Heart there exist eyes
That see all the hardship, pain
But in most people there remains
The need to believe Deception's lies
There is a statue of a man
The King David by his name
Michelangelo of fame
Erected it, as in Rome planned
The block of marble used for him
Had what, for most, was fatal flaw
But the great sculptor did then draw
The greatest carving there's ever been
This marvel, crowds to awe and sway
Made by hands of a talented one
But God selected the Cornerstone
But it's still reviled and cast away
It is ever there, to accept and thus atone
For the nascient misdeeds of self
Indeed, more precious than great wealth
Is the cleansing blood from a Stone
SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/16/2016
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
"Let me teach you
What you won't know.
Let me show you
What you won't ever see."
Said the Bird to the Beetle
"Let me bring you
A piece of the Sky"
The Beetle smiled politely
And pondered so, then asked
"Would you let me
Let me teach you
What I know?
Let me show you
What I see?
Kindly would you
Let me give you
A piece of the Earth?"
The Bird only snickered
Coldly he answered
"Why would I want the Earth
When I can have the Sky?
What value is dirt to flight?"
"Without the Earth, my friend,"
The Beetle said wryly
"You forget, we'd all
Live on valueless flight."
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
The beauty of differing opinions calls to me.
The fact that we can see the same problem and come up with completely different solutions is a testament to the human mind. Beautiful.
We should prize above all: each other
But instead
We are told and taught that anyone different is (1) wrong (2) stupid or (3) evil.
Even I , believer in one God can not believe that this is the way we were created to be.
Minds and hearts are each intrinsically unique and special. So why do we instead hate each other for beautiful creation?
Today we see enemies out of brothers, villains out of friends. Politically, socially, religiously
To me it seems obvious.
My first command is to love my neighbor like myself
How could anyone be so self righteous to think that THEIR solution alone will benefit those that are not them.
I talk not even of compromise.
Things that benefit everybody can not be compromise but only the best way to love one another.
There have been times where every group has had good/been good.
And the inverse is true as well
What astounds me is we let the crazies, the extremist, the nuts, and the talking heads set the stage for hate; their only goal being the preserving of themselves and power.
Instead of rising up, we worship. And our neighbor becomes our enemy.
I do not have to agree with you my friend. And you do not have to agree with me. That is true beauty. If we were all the same, it would be tragedy. If we were all poets and lived in the words and only for words and sought nothing solid but our own lyrical melody then that would be tragedy. If we were all simpley content with what we had then there would be no dreamers and it would be tragedy. If we were all nuns/monks then what would be our purpose in life? If we were all only concerned with knowledge where would be our compassion? All elements are needed. Required for perspective and humanity.
Why can't a republican and democrat be friends?
Why can and atheist and spiritual be able to converse and love!
Why can't those who think they have nothing in common find common ground?
Why can't we seek a solution to the problem without hating anyone else who tries?
We are to busy pointing out everyone else's failures to unite and find the best solution. We can not respect anyone who has a differing point of view.
Why?
When we assume the other has no value,
We render them valueless in our minds
And seek to destroy them
Until we stop and stand together
We will continue to let those without compassion or insight for us stand for us and tell lies and lead us astray.
Why can't we bond together.
Why can't we discover truth and solutions beneficiary to all?
Stand up my brethren. All the oppressed, poor, rich, Muslim, Christian, atheist, down trodden, confused human beings on the earth rise together
So we can gain our humanity
Back from the darkness.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 10:11 AM UTC
I gave you worth in my life,
while you thought of me
as a free item.
I was valueless,
and easily replaceable
by the next warm body
that entered the room.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC