Archive for December 2, 2018

momentary slides

Artwork from Google

momentary slides,

of lifes’ exquisite times,

at times,

dusted, burnished,

shedding the weight, baggage,
of random strings,

at once,

flinging me opposite you,

in a dream i relished,
not long ago,
so know this, if nothing else,

those moments within me reside,
today, now,

as timely as the coming in of each dawns tide … …

Artwork from Google

Art by Banksy

The Mirage of Material Gratification in the Era of Carefully Crafted Hate …

Anaesthetised souls, willfully sterile minds,

prancing around,

searching, ever searching,

on the prowl,

reaching for, hungering after, thirstily,

the mirage of material gratification,

drooling in the bottomless pit of an insatiable satisfaction.

The price?

Human beings dehumanised into mere chattel.

women abused and denigrated into second-class citizens.

the rise of racism,

rabid nationalism,

religious fanaticism,

sectarian divisions,

outright fascism,

the rise of those who choose to prey and play and inflame the very worst elements of human nature –

fear, and not the reaching out and trying to understand each other,

hate, and not appreciating that we all bleed red as one human race,

arrogance, and not the humility espoused by all religions and basic humanism,

walls, and not bridges to bring together our common human family closer together,

sowing discord, and not a the concept of the oneness of us all,

kicking down the “other”, and not lending a hand, to those of us who falter and fall.

[  political and corporate vultures hover above the carcass of humanity, circling, swooping, picking at the rotting flesh, sating a hunger, a need, the greed to off one another, endlessly feed  ]

Anaesthetised souls, willfully sterile consciences,

consume, devour, fantasy seducing need,

a greed that has to feed, oblivious, in inebriated consumer-fueled waves, filling the coffers of capital,

a consensual,

imperceptible metamorphosis, from a collective conscience, into a blind horde of slaves,

as consciences are cleaved, reducing the individual into a hellish beast who lecherously craves.

The fires continue to malevolently rage, as the 1% waltz on the glittering stage,

while the 99% are relegated, shamelessly, into a filth-ridden, reeking cage.

What does this say about you and me?

our eyes conveniently sewn shut so that we do not see,

the billions of souls who from imposed hunger, hunger to be free,


what does this say about you and me?

Art by Banksy

Artwork from Google

scribble of what never was …

undulating, lengthy, scorching kisses,

peppered with sensuous caresses,

with you, i am one,

a bouquet of feelings, infusing every pore,

our bodies in unison, fused at our passionate core.

scribbling verses on on your fiery skin,

dedicating odes to you, my love,

melting into a poem of desire,

burnished against our writhing bodies,

inflamed, on fire.

these nights of hungering need,

these days aching to upon each other ravishingly feed,

swept up by our orchestral crescendo,

the symphonies coursing through our veins with greed.

no scribbles may convey the heat of our shared cauldron,

we become one, we are one, when the stars in the sultry nights disappear,

our sweat trickling off our flesh,

the sparkle in your  eyes so crystalline, so clear.

though the years have vanished and slipped into cupboards to sleep,

though the wrinkles have imperceptibly on our brows begun to creep,

we have yet many moons to savour,

bathed in moonlight of our hearts beating as one,

within each other so immeasurably deep …

Artwork from Google

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