Sunday, February 01, 2015

Shortage, Dearth, And Lack.

.
.
.
Wilbert Smith* has pointed out: we've just a bug's insentience.  Our senses crawl "the lowest limb"... presume that "tree's" extension.  We're far from where we think we are, forever falling short. Five senses are the dearth of us; as we've no star or port.
.
What purpose then this poetry that I might write to you, but saying what cannot be said... except to rhyme, it's true... Why, consider Nostradamus, and the things that he'd write down, if writ in prose those "anecdotes"?   They'd burn him to the ground!  See, written into song or verse words stay a torch provided, and persons can be circumspect... before they get ignited.
.
Now those who think they 'know' me... or suspect I'm insincere? You decide I'm too intense... too strident flouting 'fear'? Well—a pox on trepidation, folks, there's an outrage to consider; we're played for fools; we've been betrayed; cognition's near forbidden!
.
Blogs aplenty foster memes of "retro-think implosion." They provoke craptastrophe... profess the new corrosion. They re-revision history or smear fresh thinking proffered; they've argued 'nits' and 'throwaways' to make their world view prosper.
.
"He" mewls his smears and charges; "she" snickers, sneers, and smirks... these are the specious clueless... mere bionic cyber-jerks. They prosecute pathetic plans to keep us in their box, but we're outside their cowardice, we've picked their facile locks!
.
See, these imply they're scholars, or persons in the know. These provoke the anger that we've lately come to show. These argue their inanities and re-dredge misinformation that's well dismissed as errant crap with all accreditation.
.
These use their erudition to preclude ones living wage. These assassinate the characters of persons they "debate."  They scare the sponsors they offend, pump fattened egos without end, and make themselves the center piece for pompous thinking's glad disease.
.
What provokes their sad hysteria? Why... Space, and Time, and Surface Area! Works of Shakespeare are produced by monkeys banging keyboards used. There is 'room' for all which makes their "finest works" ...a sad disgrace.
.
They are not the "center jewel"; it's this that makes them lose their cool.  These contrive a 'singularity', to themselves! Ribald hilarity! Birds and bolides... falling boosters? If this is all... then all are losers!
.
...See these are posers, non-propitious, and fearful of that "grand seditious" ...saying "beads" to calm their fear while whistling passed their graveyard's bier. These hate the future bearing down, protest too much that I'm the clown, or label me a "crazy loon"... or a "danger" to my fellows? Swoon!
.
Fear the poet? Ain't that strange? Fear the wordsmith "all deranged..." ...Fear he's so far up your nose his boot heels scrub your top lip, Bro! Fear sincerity, off its knees and shaking off your 'shackles', please.  Still, you contrive to "fill your plate" and that's an action of distaste.
.
Let's talk about the petty jibes of errant drones who must connive... to keep their stocks and bonds in place (?) so hold at bay profound disgrace! See them caper and conspire... around their black and oily fire... then burning books thought inconvenient as these expose their faux-achievement.
.
Watch them argue, without end, their denial and contrived pretence. Watch them bring up, yet again, mal-issues well divested, friend. Watch them pole-vault tick-turds, then, as errant straw-filled men, pretend... ...they'd decry where used on them; they'll whine that there's no "fair play" then!
.
These are the worst; I must contend; these, not colleague or collegiate friend. Ideologues are what abound, conflicted bastards non-profound. It's these who sell a failing stock... or toil to turn back Bassett's clock! These won't ask the harder question; they just "deny" ...is my suggestion.
.
Now all I've ever been is service. To family, nation... no disservice. I have done the hard jobs friend, and done them well... I don't pretend. Others took a different path and served themselves... you do the math... Maybe these won't be the best to label me in this contest... or judge upon more valid others lest they're judged and them that's smothered.
.
I would fight the good fight, folks, it's all I've ever known, no jokes. Something's in the skies above that 'they' ...deny... come push to shove! Know them by their negativity; know them by their cant's proclivity; know them by their lack of that which drives too few to where it's at!
.
Know them by their fruit, at last. Know them "as the spawn of Klass." Know this 'new' guard, fresh-evolved, to keep the "status quo" devolved. These are not progressive men much interested in truth, my friend! These are women not involved with truth, at any cost, resolved. These are persons you don't know who'd hide from that which "flies" and "glows"... persons with their heads shoved, blind, in places where the sun won't shine!
.
Point your finger, please, at me... feel three point back at 'thee'.  Ignominy, once looming, lingers, but I account for all my fingers. I'm "sincere" to your portentous, "curious" to your conflicted, "creative" to your constipated, "attentive" to your... too inflated!
.
I'm a human unrelated to anything that these have stated, and I don't take betrayal well for friends of mine provoked to yell. So, I'm attentive to your actions, curious in your distractions, creative as regards retorts... in song and verse and image... sport!
.
See, those on Wilbert's "lowest knee" would intimate the whole damn tree. Wilbert Smith is right again... and it won't be the last time... 'friends'. There is more to Earth and heaven than these admit or know, times seven!
.
They're the quislings of our breed; they're consumed with monstrous needs. These are needs to smirk and preen or prosecute their errant mean. They lack courage, grace and style; these are not our socio-philes. These contrive to take us back... to match their shortage, dearth, and lack.



http://www.alienview.net/








0 comments: