Song of the WandererAnd So Khamislahv Sang.More Like This
I am but a single simple man,
pondering while wandering
this forgotten foreign land.
The leaves leave the trees
below where mountains stand
and I sing and try to bring
karmic harmony from my hand.
Never too late to try my friend.
Do not fear to lend an ear;
I have but more love to send.
The end in itself is not the end.
Just another veiled beginning.
We are winning, why even pretend
that forgiveness is forgetting?
Honestly, earnestly… forever regretting,
Upon reprieve: Abandon snares that needed setting.
Ever seek the horizon.
Raise your chin and see the weak run,
Speak the truth and scorn lies (One).
Follow the denied tide with your eyes son…
Yet (Another Rhyming Couplet)Yet (Another Rhyming Couplet)More Like This
It was hardly ever a complete secret.
(What you beget you will get).
So do not fret I say my pet,
All the deeds that you regret,
All the woes you are beset,
All the death that seems preset.
A bet is still a bet.
Immense is interest incurred indeed in debt
Like the expense of an errant exocet
on little more than a small corvette
To a noble 1980s vet…
or the perilous path through wires set
on that day in ’69 on tet,
like a fiercely burning “Front-line” jet
or a conscript crisp within a Feret.
Loathe be unto those
that profit from a prophet
Lest any of us ever forget.
It’s just another rhyming couplet
All your ranks merely a fleeting brevet
“Your racket is not worth a crumpet”
Corroded and Corrupt your Cold Coronet
Since the days of Geb and Nut and Seht.
Some choose to argue, some live and some let
This garden when I was young, was fertile and wet
Is now a dry deathly desert, and yet
In time, for your crimes beyond th
The Clouds Drift SlowlyThe Clouds drift Slowly yet the Lighning is SwiftMore Like This
The clouds drift slowly,
yet the lightning is swift.
The foolish follow blindly;
the spoiled squander their gift.
The night follows day
between twilight's indecision.
The poor with dreams surely pay
for the privilege of submission.
In the coming relapse perhaps,
with repentance forthcoming.
Some of the spared
might have cared
Except for the constant whinging
impinging on the purest of thought.
Be satisfied that they lied,
with the souls that we bought.
So cheaply and completely;
they have given us so much,
like forlorn wars and forced whores,
repeated deep deceit, gold and such.
Propaganda and vile slander
and the mighty fall down.
I still remember
and will forever
the face of that clown.
Upon your brow
Now decide how
to mark you I said.
You never listen
that in the end I am
only your friend
if what you've done here is learn
that the pages you burn
and the fate that you yearn
so difficult to discern
from the eternal