Friday, April 5, 2013

Compelled To Say

As I know I'm not well read,
mostly speaking from my head,
taking me down a memory full,
of so much more than I've been told.

In fact I'm grateful,
it brings relief.

I am thankful I did chose,
to take so long to speak on things,
that you've said are so wrong.

In this tale I know the truth,
must be very long in tooth.

As I go, I can see,
that this message has a history.

As a child I looked around,
I wondered about all of you,
why so much hatred,
for a difference in planned?

I just thought,
I was damned.

To get through this difficult stay,
I never imagined that these words I state,
could be found in history bound.

As I grew I learned to do,
the more I saw the less I heard,
what was said just caused me dread.

In this thought I felt deprived,
I watched Their lies become Their Life.

I lived to breathe,
so I could be,
 what I knew I still did see,
not to talk but rather walk,
to gain an understanding;

In this Heed,
to warn of a different Deed.

Due to a strange twist of fate,
I found my pen falling to state,
in these 'Pages of Now.'

In a desperate plea to myself,
to discover my why and so I delved.

Lost in this World were ideas,
that would bring prosperity by other means.

As if to issue blame,
enhanced Their game.

How strange am I to have faith,
that there is so much more than what you bore.

As if there is an entire Sum,
removed in total from your tongue,
as you curse and chastise from,
saying things like;

"Evil, Run"

I always felt within my Being,
an 'Inner Compass' pointing 'Need,'
as if the Winds I cannot see,
are calling out,

"Be for me!!"

A natural plead.

The Act Of Done Does Not Relate Won

The Closeness of an Art seems lost,
in the Spoils of 'No Order'
tossed to the wind,
no revelry, just win.

The Stones of the Earth,
hold unknown secrets.

The attraction of the storm,
brings the Comet in,
the explosion of what was,
lands into the fierceness of been.

The grace of the journey,
taken as a given course,
the path so driven,
it becomes loved.

Does the Sky know this,
with the Cloud above?

does the Breeze hold a hug,
as it streams?

in the falling Rain,
do we experience Nature's tears?

Being only the result,
of a Night,
I speak with only question.

What is Love?

Surely it cannot be only 'An Act,'
with no prelude to the Scene,
no spatial company of the mystery.

Has it gone so far,
as to lower an expression of a dream,
to merely being done in the bedding.

The Conquest seems the prize,
yet what has been won,
other than done.

Has the beauty in an Ensemble,
been lost by the master,
in the reality of the Score?

Has the Symphony been dismantled for the choir?

Has the Instrument lost the Orchestra?

Has the Quest become 'the damned?'

The intent has become the mission,
no element or trace of the Mint,
left with contempt,
the 'Art for Men' 
will not be lost in this hymn.

Does the birth of anything,
only begin,
to know a destructive end?

Is the 'use' produced,
worth the cost of the loss?

the touch of expanding,
the inquiry into an interest,
what of the adventure?,
the road traveled?

Is what is done in action,
only for the purpose of a singular act,
of over?

To turn a dream away,
to play with what is at hand,
is not a B.D.S.M. plan,
for those Men do not damn,
but educate in a require.

Not because of what could be,
but because of what is, 
in being just a receptacle of what just does.

Regardless of want,
 overpowered by lust,
you fail the dream.

I venture to say,
a Dreamer lives life differently,
without the regard to 'It' passing them by,
but in the patience of the view.

I wish for you,
all that you wish for yourself.

May all that you know,
be the everlasting Tale of Your ultimate hopes,
manifested in your Home,
as the delight of your life.

May Humanity find gain,
not lost in vain.

May your hand hold another,
in times of peace and in events of war.

May a Paradise be Realized,
as your lives lived.

May No-One pass you,
to cast judgement with their eyes.

May you be treated to Love.

May you appreciate what is freely given,
not taken.

May your gift be,
the life you are.

May the mirror of Man,
show you compassion,
not hate in reflection.

May your better,
bare no blame,

May the Accent of your talent,
not be shame.

May you know,
 we are not all the same.

May you only know pain of what is,
leaving it as the remainder,
and not the total sum.