Saved as caught fishes,
Within their own wishes;
To leave waters so free,
Entrapped in fine twines.
Enslaved, seasoned free;
Saved from these times.
Child, I love you so
and mean you well.
But from me you go,
running away you fell.
This freedom you know,
it hurts you will tell.
These intimate songs we sing,
blend aged dreams into a ring,
that weds our gendered stew,
in matrimonial oneness not new.
It was the morning,
She was wide awake.
Eating rich breakfast pudding,
picking the latest buy to make.
Her thoughts wonder before;
when cold, homeless and hungry,
fasting and praying away her woe,
with God’s long wait she was angry.
Obedient as humanly possible,
obvious promises she had made.
In luxury and comfort she’s unable
to live up, as time altered the shade.
In tears and sweat teeth gnash,
bearing man’s trials on hand.
Fear of the unknown so harsh,
as pride sits on faith so hard.
Man seeks the great illusion,
misspelling the obligation to live.
Shunning God, His only illumination.
Evil backwards only says Live!
At birth the bloom will say
what piece in the pair stay,
a plus for lives coupled play.
In structure all living may
grow, roam and breed away,
as only possible since day.
Alas, I fear the body did sway,
hearts and minds too stray,
to please nothing else they gay.
Each day we groom little rapists,
Another fuel for those arsonists,
Ruling the realm of all realists,
Trading in the gluttony of egoists,
Housing all unconscious theists.
Amazing how easily we forgot,
it’s cold as soon as it’s again hot,
or the raw feel of our thirst
as soon as we had water first.
Pain, only as long as it linger;
ends when joy points a finger.
Many promises we had sworn
are as soon not again our own.
The personal stories we told
long before we got this old,
Or plans we drew up and made
before we realized what we said.
The friendships’ wasted hugs
as quickly, is all stale and bugs.
That shoulder we so cried on
we now see and as quickly run.
Those hands that shook ours
now reach out from towers,
As soon as we forgot again;
it’s dry, but again it will rain.
Not this push’s cure to be read,
Bought or however with all science.
Sought over but never had,
Thought never bore its conscience.
Brought ever near and sad,
Doubt never the lurking consequence.
Fought only to severe till mad,
Naught all to sever its laid sequence.
Caught ever, history has said.
Though ever pinches, it is all nonsense.
How alone can one be?
Looking around, one can only see.
Life is one big school,
Lectures are missed by the fool.
Indeed the friend is in need,
Wisdom in the foe only bid.
The whole world could be wrong
And not hear a word in your song.
For fear hasn’t a say
Where bare hands cut hay.
The masters wishes are His will
And only He writes down the bill.
We’re afraid so much of necessary failure,
Of what others think of us and of the future
And the past gone and now; just afraid.
We seldom show our consuming phobia,
They’re pushed to sub-consciousness, left there.
There they swell up and fester; being afraid.
Our hidden fears create a climate of anxiety;
Scarcely knowing why we’re afraid, it is insanity.
But still we live on like this, basically afraid.
With what comes where
And how follows when.
For the lost will ever fear
And the found never learn.
Faith lives and all own.
What’s seen is received
And again left all alone;
Like all believed, conceived.
The mind roams no course,
Thoughts feel their own way.
For many, their remorse
To others beacons a bay.
In the quest for source,
The search is the force.
Its hunger is blinding
And its timing, binding.
Many has sight failed,
More will lust then wish.
The senses boxes mailed;
Multitudes fed on their dish.
If mind had one more sense,
It will be its chosen thought;
Which is just another lens.
For faith, it has always sought.
I wonder who you are;
Some lost line or verse?
Lost somehow so far;
We can’t now transverse?
You are there in view,
Yet we chose the dark.
And rendered the new
Old, like a lot we lack.
Our acceptance of you
Is not sincere at least,
To admit what we knew
Had outlived its wreath.
Shrouded in some mist
Of age old, yet new norm;
That captured life’s feat
And figured its only form.
We spouse a ghost
And live in cemeteries.
Like a true coffined host,
Scared for our souls stories.
Your place true as cast,
Even if subtle and lost.
History gain from; at last,
Those Cains wives, almost.
Somewhere in all days;
Witnessed as is always,
In the morning’s blue skies
As in the night’s goodbyes.
It stops the singing,
Matches the hatching.
In its crawling time,
It bettered the wine.
With nothing to give,
It gives and yet deceive.
Wizen the ripened old;
Consumed and still sold.
Young the years grew
And gathered all anew.
Stealth gets its way
As age steals all away.
Cruel, cruel death
We have never met.
I only just heard
Of the fear in tears you said.
You’ve been about the herd
And oh the wonder you fed.
Who tells if you’re sent
When you only just left?
Closed eyes clasp the warm darkness,
Shutting out the silvery glow of the moon smile.
The cantata contest invade with its happiness,
Carrying all in the still air of the mating mile.
Oh how simple the peace of this revelry,
The mind and ears wonder the vastness of it all.
Clinging on sanity with man’s overt mystery,
Wishing all love melts into this dream so tall.
Daddy smiled and coughed light,
Understanding my explained plight.
Men are lonely and they know,
Yet they conspire not to let show.
These women are assisted all through
By their very own sex, unlike you.
Firstly by mothers or sisters, then peers.
All thrust, show or coax their shares.
Ladies understand the bodies world well
As they grow so guided, you can tell.
The boy discovers on his very own.
And thus, what he finds is his fun.
Sorry bro, if you haven’t guessed it yet,
and if you doubt it you’ll lose this bet.
There is an ongoing assault on your senses,
and it mainly targets your viewing lenses.
Ladies make sure you see their goods,
those curvy naughty goody foods.
They test your resolve to be normal,
teasing to resist their mean abnormal.
The other day a lady teased me,
saying I’ve got huge man boobs.
Smiled and tried to make her see,
creation has one reoccurring oops.
Just like everything that is male,
My boobs are for my pleasure;
Not the upliftment of others’ tale,
For God’s a man in all His nature.