He licked my eye balls in 82

To stop the tears from coming through

Ripped part of my soul away that day

He wants the rest, his evil pay

Killing was the name of the game

Man against man

Its still the same

When the last grain sand falls from my life

He will be back with his big long knife

Stronger he gets by the day

As man kills man on an industrial scale

I have looked into the bowls of hell

There is no flames there is no smell

He is all around he is in your face

The bogey man is the human race.


© Tony McNally

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The Man and the Ocean

It is always in the ceaseless motion
And it was exactly the one, who had it perfectly done!
His name was the powerful ocean
With joy he supported the plan.


We live as we’ve lived and the question of how?
The nature suddenly did us allow,
To possess and to use such a valuable gift
From whom we’ve been fed, and all wisdom conceived.
The questions we’ve had, and still have them now!


You stood on the bridge of this life
With the wonderful rooted idea…
And the doubts which have been left in the rear
Couldn’t reach your unstoppable drive.


For the crafts you’ve been gifted
Nothing seemed to exist,
To create any mist,
Not to let your success to be lifted.


From there, onwards, you went far from earth to the sky,
Like the birds you’ve got wonderful wings,
Like these birds you have finally learned how to fly.
And you rose far above other beings!


With the wonder you went, with the wonder you go
Working hard on these new revelations…
And they stand now revealed by the man, in the row,
Leading us to the other dimensions!


What’s the next in this ceaseless motion?
Can we have it all perfectly done?
And we hope, that the powerful ocean
Still with joy will support our plan!





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The Nature

Like in a wonderful dream
You can fly with the beautiful birds!
As a gifted writer you create your unrepeatable song,
Which contains many vital and remarkable words;
All about that we travel so far and so long,
And we have to be brave and we have to be strong
For in order to pass through your rapid stream.
Only You, not the kings neither majestic lords
Can provide us with the warmth of sunbeam!


You're full of endowments which we'll never possess;
Full of love, full of light, full of grace!
And although, we all strive to achieve your success,
We're destined to have second place.


With your power and might you will stay side by side,
And we ask for your fair permission
To continue here our mission,
And to have your so valuable guide.


Call the children of Earth with the pride of an eagle!
Gather them for in order to give
All the beautiful answers, which can solve any riddle;
They should know that the Nature wants us to live!




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Conditioned By The Human Condition


...and aren't we all, in some, at least, small way?



so much more than others.

It's in our destructive nature

to step away from what we should nurture-

For Mother Nature's bosom

is only so vast

and could use some assistance.


Humanity is certainly

suckling dry

her life-giving sustenance.

Leaving her wrinkle-sagged

and barren of her babes

lost in these clearcut woods.


As we turn blind eyes

And deaf ears

To the blind, the deaf,

as we hurtle over the lame,

to get our better place in line,

are we now no better

than those we have judged?


Are we so robotic and quixotic

to the point of our failure to see

that in the changing of time

we are becoming more and more


by the human condition?





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A God Girl

I remember the first rain, 

It's warmth and mist and the Autumn-claimed highlands that it fell upon. 

I remember the school of tiny black fish kissing the ripples on the lake's cool surface.

The auburn pines and fallen logs over pathways, dampening stumps and the wind, the wind,

The wind that whispered all around me: "You Are A God, And Peace Is Expensive."


I remember the first men, 

Gazing around at their small and perfect world, new thoughts rushing so fast though their minds-

They were breathless. I remember their hot beating hearts as they strove for purpose and comfort.

They found a name for that warm earthy feeling that wraps around two people like warm blankets,

I waited patiently for them to greet me as they did each other, drink with me, laugh with me, 

Yet all they did was pray. 


Cement and plastic kill my pure loves.

This hell's imperfections spitting up at me like hot fat in a searing pan.

The sun is too bright for most, so noses are on the grindstone, 

On a project claimed to be far more powerful and prosperous than anything from my feeble craft,

My precious pretty people work too hard, too driven, far too fast. Yet-


I can see eyes in flowers, tongues in waterfalls and bony fingers in dark forests. 

I see every being, its lies and truths, its dreams and torments, every beautiful detail, 

As exact as a botanical diagram penned with a flourishing quill. 

I see connections- person to person- like veins knotted in a body,

Synapses and junctions snapping and jumping with all that delicious energy,

All that mystery and awe that I thought propelled all things, 

I give out frugally, yet freely to those who deserve it. My beautiful chosen ones, 

I will show you misty lakes in snowy mountain ranges, streams flooded with river reeds,

Deep valleys- cracks in the earth- stretches of tall exotic wonders stringed with vines,

I will show you that craved feeling of being home that people kill for. I will hand it to you. 

I will cherish you, as your eyes are my eyes and each new sight is my new wonder, 

I will happily give you those dreamlike moments of exhilarating bliss,

And shower you with them from above.

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let there be light


Said let there be light,
Our Almighty Creator,
Is that God or Man?

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A Whisper of Faith



A Whisper of Faith



I closed my eyes, knelled to pray
desperately searching for the words to say.



“Faith, to simply close your eyes and take a step
hope and pray that you do not fall and regret.
Where your drowning in doubt, struggling for a sane way out”



I want to know how you could forget your children,
every soul lost within this wicked playpen.
Running the gambit with temptation until they just give in.
Told to play my part, with no clue where to start.



They bath in decadence, while mocking violence
spewing filth all the while drowning in their spite
cowards all afraid to do what is right.
With a pity me degree, in a school of all about me.
Their eyes wide open, but still blind to see.
Idiots you and I, playing the game of suicide.
Pretending we are still alive on the inside.
A whisper of hope, whats the word? Ah, Faith.
Seeking salvation, redemption, finding our grace.



My garden of Eden, my paradise lost.
Everything sacrificed at such a high cost.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

"I no longer recognize the monster in the mirror"

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The Beaten Dog

The Toad---Lol

They say a broken dog

can never be the same

when his faith has died,

so to does his name.


When pain and cruelty endured,

becomes an empty shell.

His tail will wag no more,

his eyes cry pain he cant tell.


He wants to please

He tries to wag his tail,

yet emotions go so deep

and his owner can only weep.


She holds him close

and strokes his face,

He feels happy, he purrs inside.

Yet fear is stronger than to too please,

and his bite is deep in another place.


In time the dog will learn to believe.

But the Demons never pass, they stay.

And blur his eyes with fear.

Warning you not to stand to near. c 

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