The CURSE of VERSE (for better...worse) - VI

The first stanza of this poem was posted on September 23, 2008. I'm not sure where it's headed or even where it's been. As always - stay tuned.

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Then I fled, the Mark of Cain upon my head. Which was oddly God's protection since my Brother now lay Dead.

I denied that I was Guilty and I lied yet the One who knew my Truth had Loved me more than I could fathom.

Then the Sinless Self-Professors told their Lies to their Confessors and as One pointed fingers at my Guilt. Shouting DAMNED!

Laughing they said that I'd left my Brother Dead and for me there was no Heaven. It was Hell that I should Dread.

I cried until I bled. I beat my chest. "My Life Instead!"

Once again the Chorus sounded while my beating fists still pounded but the words they said resounded through the Torment in my Soul.

Peace instead. So many years you have ahead to follow forward as a thread to bring you to My side.

... to be continued

The Story I Wish I Could Tell You

The story I wish I could tell you would be filled with a bright light that knew my name. 

The story I wish I could tell you would have familiar faces, gone before. 

The story I wish I could tell you would be a misty vision of my body below as I floated above. 

The story I wish I could tell you would recall my mother's sweet voice reading to me through a fog. 

The story I wish I could tell you would be a galaxy of stars where I weightlessly wandered. 

The story I wish I could tell you would have Him reaching for me and calling me Beloved. 

The story I wish I could tell you might be a frightful place filled with the screams of the Lost. The story I wish I could tell you might crackle and spit with unquenchable fire. 

The story I wish I could tell you would be a dark room forever alone. 

The story I wish I could tell you would be a place, any place at all for me. 

The story I wish I could tell you would have me being...

The story I am left with held no dreams, no torment, no fear. 

Nothing experienced with no one there. 

That's even wrong. 

There was no "there" to hold anyone, anything, any feeling, any darkness.

Peace? Perhaps. But who would know?

She's Just Not Qualified To Be Vice President

I do like her hair down though. Particularly on her arms...

He's A Pickens...

... and I'm a Grinnin'! 

Live Wrong and Prosper, y'all!

Don't Jump! Just Dance.

Time Zone (Afrika Bambaata with Johnny Lydon) - WORLD DESTRUCTION 

The CURSE of VERSE (for better...worse) - V

Blancmange - THE GAME ABOVE MY HEAD

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Someone said there's a place in my Head where the Living and the Dead carry on discourse.

I denied that anything inside could be forced to provide any proof of being in there.

Then the giggle of the Chorus who had gone so long before us burbled up through the porous part of Me I call my Mind.  

Laughing they said that I'd made my Bed and to argue with the Dead proved me Madder than I'd feared.

I inhaled my Dread realizing I'd fed my Sanity on the Bread that They couldn't really be there.

Once again the Chorus giggled as upon my chair I wiggled and the line I drew grew squiggled between Them and Me.

So misled - so many Years I sought a Thread to follow backwards in my Head to take me to my Source.

... to be continued.

Some Days...

... my afflictions win and I am left breathless, powerless and in despair. All options exhausted for the moment, hour or day I stand bathed in my own sweat and shame for having failed to prepare for the inevitable battle. 

Once again my stamina has deserted me and I am left a twisted knot of emotions. Entangled, I struggle to free some part of myself. Just a free hand or leg or feeling. A still point in the swirl of twisting rope. Clarity, a pause - a second to catch my wind. But then follows the flailing against the maddening knot. My efforts rewarded by tighter bonds.

Angered now, I reach for the old tools. Dull from age and overuse but still lethal if used with enough power. The lashes, the bruising I inflict on those I love. The scars I give myself. And the ropes hold.

Frenzy finally surrenders to exhaustion. I stop because I can't continue. No nobility in my feeble surrender.

All that remains are tears. Hot and bitter. Even they yield at last to sleep.

Les MisBarack

Dear Sarah,

The BUSH DOCTRINE is a term used to describe the policy of pre-emption attributed to United States President George W. Bush. Specifically, the Bush Doctrine focuses on the controversial policy of preventive war, which holds that the United States government should depose foreign regimes that represent a threat to the security of the United States, even if such threats are not immediate and no attack is imminent. The Bush Doctrine was used to justify the Invasion of Iraq in March, 2003.

Put Simply (simply-er?) - Shoot first and justify it later. You know, like that boy did to your daughter! Get it now? Let me know by lookin' CRAZY...

Good Girl! Now go get a juice-box.

A Thousand Words

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"Kill us some dinner, Ellie Mae, and be quick about it young'un!"

"I'll grab my M-16 gun, Uncle Jed! Look out critters! You're about to become vittles!"

2

Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice pictured with Moammar Gadhafi and Harvey the Invisible Shi'ite.