Critical Prose & Poetic Commentary regarding UFOs and their astonishing ancillaries, consciousness & conspiracy, plus a proud sufferer of orthorexia nervosa since 2005!

Sunday, May 08, 2022

...Something Better Than Bitter...

...That chance to touch the beautiful—
perhaps brush it with your lips... 
it's the august of all passions— 
sheer agape all would wish. 
That one might even kiss it—
though it's "reach" beyond one's "grasp"—
instills in us some hope perceived, 
discounting protests gasped!
...See, then I'm less than bitter! 
Song leavens stony hearts... 
Still, you can PROVOKE me, friend, 
and I'll take you quite apart! 
...And YES, I will be charmless 
when I eat your smirking face; 
as I see it you’re the problem, 
frankly ... a discredit to our race!
That'd be the human race,
that single race extant...
The race we call humanity.
That race of us existent...
Still...you make it hard to love you 
where your ethics are despised, 
where hypocrites, abounding, 
thumping "bibles"—ooze and slide!  
Where psychopaths among you 
teach the least of us their fear 
and then cobble legislation—
they've contrived—as profiteers.
...Too, I wouldn't change a "wit" nor "hair" 
you'd gladly change on me. 
I'd not restrict your freedoms 
judging what you would, or be.  
...But, you take that as your license 
to impose your toxic will, 
assassinate intelligence—
just impose psychotic filth!
Defending to a sullen death 
your right to be a fink, 
it's when I'm made against "the law," 
you'd try that tack, I think. 
Then everything is YOUR way—
with "Jesus" in our schools. 
The schools transmute to prisons, 
and we live the *golden* rule. 
And not that smarmy bromide re: 
the "doing unto others", 
but it's "he who has the gold who rules," 
is where you are, I'd gather.
... But for chance to touch the beauty 
I'd be blinded by her light; 
Her's just might be the face of God! 
I suspect this is our right
...And blowing off "you can't do that
from persons tacking right—
they prosecute their bitterness—
I'll pay that price... alright?
For, light there is aplenty 
when we see who burns with shame—
when we cop to the perception 
who must lose so they can gain. 
And the LIES to keep it going 
so that we won't see the truth: 
that jealous lords contrive stern rules, 
but remain from them, aloof!
There's more than Clinton's penis 
to the fabric of our lives. 
There is more that could engage us, 
and there's less we should despise!
The skies are filled with "glowing lights"! 
They travel inner space! 
Some just might be people, 
but their provenance—what's their place? 
It just may be they're not from here
but we don't look—they disappear
made ashamed to ask good questions, 
so ridiculed, we make "retractions":
"No one's going to laugh at me"! 
Unlike John Ford? You would be "free"...
And that's the secret: lacking courage
Right or wrong protecting coinage; 
like, dumping on those far from here 
your toxic wastes... without a tear!
Resent it when you're finally told? 
The message is then killed/controlled
All your shame is drained from you 
and splashed on those who cannot choose!
The market losing chunks of value? 
Lost some savings, can't eat cashews? 
Someone has it, rest assured, 
it's stolen "fair and square," I've heard!
The market "burps" and loses "value"? 
Someone wins... they've sold YOU out, though...
A "secret service" selling crack... 
to school kids yet without the knack 
for knowing when they're sacrificed... 
on Corporate alters... "price is right"!
...Yeah, Ollie North could lie straight-faced 
and earn my rage—profound distaste—
that, welling up with righteous bile—
the thousands that he harmed, defiled—
he gave the 'right' their ammunition, 
"welfare cheats" the admonition. 
"Let them all decay—attrition!" 
...Would that I could force contrition!!

Yet, I will be touching beauty... 
I've discovered in the fight! 
I revel in revealing what 
some truth shows with its light!
...And as bitter as I'm made to feel 
or as angry as I get, 
I'm happy that I'm blessed to find 
what's real precludes all threat!  
So you can call me "woo-woo" 
and pretend I need a net; 
I'm not the one who's lying 
to himself, friend; you can bet!
I'm not the one regressing 
to the dankness of my cave
I'm not the one with unshod feet, 
mere chattel, or a slave...
I'm not the one with bigotries... 
happy others keep their knees... 
so I can pray to concrete gods 
who do my bidding, on my nod?
No! I'm the one who's had enough! 
I'll spit right in your eye
Most send me their protection, friend; 
I soar... or glide... but fly
You rasp I have no humor, 
or that bitterness derides 
whatever makes my message 
give you lesions, welts, or hives!
No, some read my songs for pleasure, 
some say they sing of love. 
Some say they are inspired 
by example, churlish one!
Some say that I have courage, 
that I write the way "it is"—
Like Robert Crumb (cartoonist?), 
but I "draw" where words don't miss.
Most say that they laugh with me—
blowing good beer through their nose—
some touch and share their own songs 
or their haiku or their prose. 
One said he hopes his kid grows up 
to hear my kind of sound—
so, dismissed as paranoiac? 
That dog won't hunt, I've found.

...Restore John Ford!

1 comment:

Emma said...

Wow, that's really good!

Grok In Fullness


Errol Bruce-Knapp, of UFO UpDates, Strange Days — Indeed, the Virtually Strange Network... ...and the coiner of the expression &qu...