PRISONER

These times are certain without purpose

or meaningful life's caress

Thy neighbor as good guests

knowing

who we are and where

friends of fate we're going

nevertheless

without such cave canem cages

of when these times are certain

now passing without sage

or kisses of kinder days

from wherever not

(no stress)

no word to be bade...

We are half-life hazards

haphazard lizards under scorching suns

hot still stones

distilled our souls

indifferent to why we've come

undone

when once we owned

                               Freedom

fearless childlike dreamers

walking kismet

embracing every morning

shadowed only by love above

For gracious paths

life full of hues

beauty's contagious laughter

lungs filled with heaven

words not daggers

but courteous  courageous  with only truth

For faces that look familial

brilliant as August suns

how invincible our youth

without a single war begun

But now it dawns on me

these times of certain / harsh realities

we are prisoners

under the gun

and freedom cries tears of lies

that this illusion is life

yet still we run...

We must do as those who accrue

Prestige

is found with whom the most toys got

to be envied is what we're not

and to be a child hungry

is a life of loss

why bother for the other

must do as bank note says

in God we trust

to smother us / we pray

for mo' money mo' hustle mo' bread

collections of obsessions and confections of derelictions  

dismiss the times away

Peacocks have their feathers

and we have time to waste...

still it is certain as eyes to seeing

removed from every meaning

details discarded

to minutes preening and consuming

the feathers are shimmering

I'm gleaning

a mystic's moment at noticing

heaven

in the breath taken away

not by theft or knife or whip

or life entombed in drowning s**t

moments sore for afterlife 

eyes gone blind no inner light

this is certainly a war

half life

with mounds of golden nothings

and still have time -- wanting more

all ghosts have fears

to pass through doors

and all I wanted is my own

no one else's

just a wish to be one

who carries

feathers and colorful hours

a truthful path to go laughing

I want heaven on earth with you

great grand father

a boy who can fly

something new

rather than just another

prisoner...

Reviews

[ANTO]

When it comes it is a harsh lesson. That we are tied as any pack animal to the yoke. Our minds however are the vessels in which we can fly and can taste the freedom that our corporeal entities lack.

"We are half-life hazards
haphazard lizards under scorching suns..." - brilliant.

[Butch Decatoria]

Thank you for your review, although I feel that is this just a rough draft, unfinished... but it is what it is right now... Hope to make it better, later on, when that lightning strikes and I can hold on to it, bottle it up and thank the universe...( if nothing else I can carve on the bark of a tree : "Butch was here" - a piece of me )

Thanks again for reading...much appreciated.

[ANTO]

tis your baby PF.
loved your reply by the way. 'Butch was here' - class...

[Ed Hart]

i guess it will have to be one little light at a time...welcome to the club