Tuesday, June 30, 2015
She saw people praying and using the violence in the name of religion at the same time, while no religion is preaching violence. She understood that this kind of violence was too conflicting for peace, and yet too diplomatic for war. And that violence no solution had; nor never none.
Evil Effects for Evil Spirits and Last Words of the Soul:
Evil effects for Evil Spirits - Drinking can hardly be called an acquired habit- One's efficiency is impaired, as is one's imagination, inventiveness and quickness! No longer does one have sun-clear eyes, and in time turn into gutter-wolves! This is an evil corner in life, should you end up there: This is a corner that flourishes with both women as by men!
December Poems II:
December Poems: The Iron Age, of Old Age; The Night the Hounds were out!; The Methodical Primitive Man; Ridden by Death; Where the Waters Meet; No Way Back! December Poems II: 1) The Iron Age, of Old Age - In old age there is only intermittent sleep, And lots of time to tell life's strange tales of strife.
Four Poems (The Legend of Santa Claus, The Water, The Blue of His Face, A Sephirothic Angel):
Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus - In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeer twins. Santa had another noted name, He was a simple man Called Nicholas living for no fame. He was a Christian. His parents died, when he was still young, In a village of Greece. Thinking of Jesus, his thoughts he strung To help poor kids in peace.
The Power Of Horses Was In Their Mouths And Tails As They Were Like Snakes Having Heads For Injury:
It sprang from their buttocks, a heart that could spread venom to even a spirit or a gnome. But what shall it be for, a weapon used in battle for the impoverished and the rich. In a sea of hope there shall be no mermaids, hiss and chuckle but this does not mean that they are not here to revile and deride the rest. Let them take heed in their ability to wrestle and wheeze as the dart may be loaned, leased or rented, a sacred artifact, a power to unleash.
The Locusts Looked Like Horses, Prepared For Battle With Women's Hair And Breastplates Made Of Iron:
On a savage beast they ride with crowns of gold and teeth like a lion's hide. They are the heathens, the locusts with fair hair that blows, a woman killed in battle and the sound of chariots dancing in their wings like the thundering of horses rushing to a stained glass church. Their faces fierce and breastplates made of iron, in the night looks askew, glimmer, glance, glow, simmer in an irrepressible sight. Into a bleeding heart the irascible saber shall dig in deep, blister and sear, shall there ever be any recourse, a means to address the matter, an option, an alternative, a resource, a fine lass, some place cool, hip, far out, beatific, beatitude again and again
Two Poems: Festive Faith and The Final Farewell:
The Final Farewell - I don't know what I'm going to say when I have to face my final farewell - Not sure if anyone knows for certain! I've thought about it, even practiced such lines as: "See you soon, baboon!" or "See you later alligator!