Category: poetry

The Call

As a kid I felt the spirit’s call
But as an adult came the fall
The dream to preach deferred
But recently, to me, it occurred
That I still had that damn call

But it wasn’t to Christian preach
Instead all metaphysics to teach
As I woke from spiritual slumber
I learned my life path number
Passing on wisdom is my outreach

You see, the message reoccurred
In so many lucid dreams deferred
In dream after dream, I am a leader
One who is a great freedom feeder
This all may seem quite absurd

In a past life that may not be on Earth
I was rune maker of home and hearth
That occurrence was passed as a dream
But then came the one of leading a team
A single war mage of the highest worth

The more I resisted the spiritual call
The more I saw all my life plans stall
Eventually ideas from wisdom stirred
No longer was the call to be deferred
Once I glimpsed into the Akashic hall

I know now that teaching is my gift
To pass wisdom to bridge the rift
As the planet begins to awaken
My path will be hard and shaken
But I must no longer defer my gift

As I step forward to lead the charge
I hope to help the masses at large
To help guide them to awakening
As the shift seems to be hastening
Then we will help the earth recharge

Let me be testament to a dream deferred
And my knowledge be thus transferred
That others can stand on my shoulders
Without stumbling over the boulders
To leave the dimension we called third

Of Oppression

“My tomorrow must be greater than today”
I heard that once; as if so certain is the future’s way.
Democracy will come tomorrow to remain
Tomorrow the sun will rise and never set again
Tomorrow we will speak out loud against the lies unafraid,
at the edge of desperation we are swayed our democracy under raid

Democracy, what does it really mean?
A rule by the majority to be truly seen?
But if a people are frequently oppressed,
Can democracy really be justly confessed?
There is no place for humans to be mean

Myanmar has professed democratic rule
But their treatment of Muslims is cruel
As many flee to neighboring Bangladesh
Is this an ethnic cleansing in the flesh?
Either way, oppression is not at all cool

A Frightening Revelation

He points to the house and asks
If I can see past all the masks
But I see and feel nothing crazy
Then my vision goes all hazy
As he gives me more tasks

“Do you feel anything here?”
As if I’m some sort of sightseer
But I do sense agony on site
As if there was some blight
Then we walk to the rear

As I come to the cattle lands
I touch the rails with my hands
A heavy burden push down
I feel like I’m about to drown
And drop into the cold sands

Visions of death and decay
Fires that burn it all away
Thousands of cattle dead
All of them sick in the head
Death the mad cow way

As the pain overwhelms me
I am barely able to give my plea
For it all to stop and disappear
“Relieve me of their great fear”
And all the death that I can see

The man touches my forearm
And tells me of no need to alarm
That he is my guardian angel
And that I gave him a new angle
About this little cattle farm

I awaken from my nightmare
And at my ceiling, I just stare
Wondering if this was cognition
Or some weird premonition
that I need to know where

Six months later, thousands die
Fires burn them right as they lie
Many a cattle were lost then
And the pain came back again
As I watched the smoky sky

The Unintended Mother

Pregnant before she was sixteen
Because of with who she mixed in
unenthusiastically washing dishes
All those failed dreams and wishes
Time came and the baby was seen

Suddenly all those dreams faded
She no longer felt lost and jaded
The tiny little angel reminded her
That even mistakes that occur
Can give us a life greatly upgraded

As daughter grew up and moved out
She became the best without doubt
A master of her incredible field
As Her PhD was eagerly fulfilled
But she had secret motives about

Rewinding to when the girl was ten
She found her mother’s dream bin
For all the failed dreams were saved
And the young girl’s heart caved
But after emotional tears, a slight grin

An ingenious plan had been hatched
To absorb all like a lawn dethatched
She would spend years planning
While her knowledge was spanning
And from her mother so dethatched

The plan was quite simple and neat
All those failed dreams she’d meet
But with her mother by her side
Together, experience the full ride
The “mistake” had finally turned sweet

The God of War

To Christians and Muslims the same
One true God, just a different name
They believe in him ever so blindly
But their actions are not so kindly
There is no winner in this game

Let us begin with the Crusades
Fighting in the holy land decades
Many many lives lost for a land
That is full of God damn sand
To other religions throw shades

Now let’s move on to the trial
We all know. There’s no denial
That blind faith led to much death
Burned, hanged, or loss of breath
Malleus Maleficarum. Book so vile

Some sixty thousand witches slain
Because men had something to gain
Following blindly, they couldn’t see
That the church wanted controlability
And that, with witches, went in vain

How can they believe they are correct
When the Bible had a great disconnect
It tells similar stories to other religions
But those predate it more than a smidgen
Of course Christians will always deflect

The lesson here is obviously clear
They hear what they want to hear
And to blindly follow something
Means you don’t see everything
And blindness leads to great fear.

The Magus and the Witch

She draws power from the moon
She’ll dance to a wicked tune
And push him to his upper limit
Then cast spells. Candles dim lit.
With her touch he will swoon

The wild feminine of the witch
Satisfies the magus’s sexual itch
His muse. His inspirational bae
A love poem that will not sway
This is the power of the witch

The snakes cometh out to see
The high vibrations, that of she
Like insects flight into the light
Her charm he can not truly fight
But, likewise, the magus is her he

For all the power she possesses
Her love she ultimately confesses
For in him she finds solid ground
And fight for him to be around
To him she moves and coalesces

The Witches’ Runes

I gaze upon the water from the hill
Everything is so unnaturally still
Lightning and thunder start to hit
I fear there’s about to be some shit
The calm before the storm I feel

On second glance I see lit runes
Summoning witches’ typhoons
Evil has corrupted the lands
Tis now in the witches’ hands
To destroy the evil tycoons

The runes rise into the sky
And lightning strikes from high
The elite tycoons’ armies fall
Lightning jumps like a ball
The tycoons’ time is nigh

When the shit hits the fan
Rises the witches of the land
The sisters of earth and moon
Elemental forces released soon
Under their perfect little plan

When the earth is in pain
Witches remove the stain
And they don’t give a damn
Even if you are their fam
Evil you won’t do again

Remember the lesson here
Witches hold the land dear
And come to her very aid
When evil is fully conveyed
There’s not much they fear

Fat Bottom Girls

I decided to break from the mystic
For a message that’s quite simplistic
You see today a saw a poster board
It had a message that I quite adored
About a certain lower body aesthetic

This goes out to all the lasses
It’s ok for you to have fat asses
Sport those tight jeans. Be a lil spunky
Like salsa, best to be thick and chunky
And show those curves to the masses

The Pragmatic Otorhinolaryngologist

I heard about an otorhinolaryngologist
The doctor was extremely pissed
For his patient had an obsession
Sadistic in each painful session
I’m sure you get the very gist

Being the pragmatic thinker type
The doctor was used to swap swipe
To test for ear, nose, or throat disease
But his patient was just a gross sleaze
The doctor jus didn’t see the hype

Sympathy was the doctors true gift
So you can see why he was so miffed
Being sensual was his main game
To hurt would bring him much shame
Between the two was a bit of a rift

But the story gets better from here
The patient was an androgynous dear
Female up top, male down below
The patient had the whole show
Tits and a schlong to be perfectly clear

Sadism aside, one thing was absolute
The patient was a hilarious lil hoot
With pick up lines and jokes a plenty
(S)he was actually a spark of divinity
Perfect in a miniskirt or even in a suit

With big gorgeous eyes like emerald
(s)he could leave a room utterly leveled
A unique flower in the land of the free
A mosaic of masculine and female divinity
And quite a hell of a seductive little devil

But the doctor was still so conflicted
His morals had become contradicted
Oh the aporia of labeling her a she
Because some parts made him a he
But doc gave in and became addicted