• Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    A mind that will not endure wisdom,
    Fails to understand sacred freedom.
    Trials assault the foolish temptation,
    Drawing a conclusion by persuasion.

    sample only
    Back to Others

    Buy/Read Full Poem Below:

    [pay]
    A mind that will not endure wisdom,
    Fails to understand sacred freedom.
    Trials assault the foolish temptation,
    Drawing a conclusion by persuasion.

    Manipulation is the key to substance;
    Subduing natural powers in a trance.
    Suppose will-power advocates good;
    Then, abusive attraction alters blood.

    Blood circulates a fool through a rage;
    Distorts the scene on a mental stage.
    Just as a bullet interjects poison lead,
    The rage renders a fool–mostly dead.

    The capital cause for foolish behavior,
    Is that, substance isn’t a valid savior.
    Commitment to a flight of butterflies,
    Will fail to understand the capital try.

    How could wisdom be a friendly tool,
    When dead behavior is seeking fools?
    If wit can’t fit compatible with sense,
    Applicable intelligence…is non-tense.

    Would-be fools, pause for a thought:
    Substance has no right to be bought.
    Change the mind, before it does you;
    Don’t do…what you are about to do!

    Before a fool destroys the will to act,
    Perhaps sense will gather some facts.
    A matter-of-track–the record shows,
    Goodbye to the brain; there she goes!
    [/pay]

    Tags: , ,

  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Man earns bread by the sweat of his brow;
    Never to offer his soul–a second thought.
    In lieu of bread, man craves tobacco fire,
    To furnace his soul…with what he bought.

    sample only
    Back to Others

    Buy/Read Full Poem Below:

    [pay]
    Man earns bread by the sweat of his brow;
    Never to offer his soul–a second thought.
    In lieu of bread, man craves tobacco fire,
    To furnace his soul…with what he bought.

    Man’s senses are made to furnish his mind
    With substance…to arouse sense-of-touch.
    He touches the elusive world, while it fades,
    As the bread of his soul is ash, before lunch.

    Puff, the magic dragon, steals his attention;
    To satisfy passion and demand his friendship.
    Heaven fades from worship, into a contention;
    Far-to-far!…his god declines to launch a ship.

    By touchy sense, he notices the feel of touch,
    As misty eyes confirm–a pleasure in his lungs.
    Pleased with the cloud that subdues his hunch;
    God forms the tabacco leaf for a rowdy-bunch.

    Nothing known can match his senseless being;
    Just a moment’s touch-of-fire, is bread to him.
    The sweat on his brow–earns the praise to be,
    To obtain rights from God: to be out-on-a-limb.

    Since heaven…is far from this world-of-reality,
    It makes no sense–to ignore a world-of-sense.
    Did not the Creator make a sense-of-tranquility,
    By offering a taste-of-heaven–in self-defense?

    Reasons of man…”shall not live by bread alone;”
    But, a divine restraint–shall increase in wisdom.
    Live freely in the reality-of-substance, and see!
    The dragon god limits man–to an idol kingdom.
    [/pay]

    Tags: ,

  • Passing pathetically beyond the mind,
    Floating impulses through a journey.
    Bright noses portray an abusive shine;
    Slippery feelings will elude a burning.

    sample only
    Back to World Selection

    Buy/Read Full Poem Below:

    [pay]
    Passing pathetically beyond the mind,
    Floating impulses through a journey.
    Bright noses portray an abusive shine;
    Slippery feelings will elude a burning.

    Foreign fluid–intrusion of the blood;
    So long as beautiful teeth are straight.
    Nutrition fails…at the value of crude;
    Senseless elements rule a crazy mate.

    Poor intellect lights the scab of flesh;
    Lingering focus nearest the blurry eye.
    Behavior delivers a slabbering splash,
    Losing direction, due…confusing lies.

    Funny ways harbor a deceptive light,
    Staggering carelessly along some line.
    Why trust a friend who tells these lies?
    Seeking happiness…in the bottle kind.

    Victum idleness…in this familiar pickle,
    Jabbing airwaves…for a valid purpose.
    The pain betrays a meaningless giggle,
    Laughing aimlessly at this dingy circus.

    Fun surrenders to this heap of sadness;
    Maturity will carefully witness the pain.
    Precious flesh stares…into a weakness,
    Without an accusing thought to blame.

    Forsake the direction of liquid journey;
    Recapture true wit…onto solid ground.
    Happiness is an instrument of learning;
    The mind is a goodthing to keep around.
    [/pay]

    Tags: , ,