Arrows falling from the sky,
these cowards hiding behind their wall,
But we are determined to break through
one way or another
Many have already sacrificed their lives on this plain,
but as they say in chess "the pawns must go first"
There is too much at stake for us just to go home
too much sweat and blood has already been shed
To the last man we will fight,
and to the last man we will die.
We wear this armor with our utmost pride,
this disrespect will not stand
Agamemnons wrath will be quenched
until Troy falls his revenge will be incomplete
Peeling the onion
By jfarrell
My story, my history
Will come out, layer by layer
Within my poetry
And much of it you won’t like;
“let’s leave those horrors for scary stories”
Like peeling an onion, the deeper you go
The more intense it is
When I started writing poetry recently
I upset my sister with it;
It’s stuff she’s got over and buried in the past;
And she is the only one of my relatives I give a stuff about;
But she doesn’t believe that
She believes I stay away out of hate and spite;
I stay away coz I seem to hurt everything I touch
I promised her I wouldn’t write personal stuff
Sorry, but I’ve got to break that promise
I write for me, I have to write my story
And I have to write it my way
You can choose to not read
But you cannot tell me not to write;
You found your peace;
I’m still searching for mine.
I need to peel this onion.
Love your enemies,
do not give in to the hate
that is what they want the
most, to feed off your fear
and doubt
Trust in the spirt,
for it is all,
there is no other
but the father
Wolves in sheeps clothing
will come in droves to
discourage you from what
is most true
Like viruses, their ideologies
and philosophies will attempt to corrupt your point of view
Only through him
can you purge yourself of this corruption
that has taken over your body and mind
The world is the prison of the false
for it was created as mockery of the real,
by him who call's himself "god"
A god of lies, you no longer have to be under
his perverse eye, for the truth will shine through,
and will guide to the spirit of all.
For there is only one true god
and his love is our own,
for we are all united in his knowledge
as long as we choose to accept it.
I once said "love does not exist"
I was wrong and doubtful of what
we are,
We can love, because we are love,
out of love we were created by him
who loves us the most
Each one of us struggles every day,
it is hard not to be hateful of everything,
to single out particular things for our problems,
But we can choose to think differently,
we can choose to believe in meaning,
to treat others like actual human beings
Without love there is no meaning,
because love is meaning,
hate is the destruction of that meaning
Without him, we are just empty shells,
just nihillists, going through the motions
with no real understanding for why we
should even be alive.
Look around you, do you not feel the hate?
do you not feel the suffering? These impressions
on our consciousness, can we not change this?
Why should we give in so easily? why not resist
this evil and show strength?
Without him, there is no evil, there is no good,
no spiritual bases for why things happen the
way they happen, it all seems so absurd.
It is easy to give in to egoism, moral relativism, etc
because you feel like nothing matters anyways,
so why not just live life as you choose?
"Do what thou will shall be the whole of the law"
When you take your head out of the sand
and stop ignoring the negative force, you can actually see how it has
taken control of your very life, how the devil has gained a strong foot hold
All because of doubt, and the lack of will do what is necessary,
so much easier it is to give in to the parasitic influence of the world,
He becomes your god,
you just don't realize it until its too late.
All that doubt sucks at your being like a leech,
you feel dead inside,
you feel hopeless, in the darkest hole of dispair,
all because you think it doesn't matter
The evil is there, so acknowledge it and exorcise it from yourself,
pray to christ to expel the parasite from your system,
cleanse the negative energy,
fill your heart with love and always keep on your guard for hate
Or otherwise continue to be a slave to him who controls the world,
only the son of man can help you transcend this material mockery;
he is your key and your door, surrender yourself and stop trying to find
another way, because there is no other way but through him.
He is "the way though truth and the light"
I hold a coin, and before flipping it, I ponder
The world is not good
I tell these stories to make you feel better
There are humanitarians and caregivers
Men and women of valour
There are benefactors, globalists and monsters who sleep well at night, unperturbed at being monsters
We are mortals, We wake, work and dream
We ache all day and commute with heartbreak and pains
As the universe expands, our tolerance and imagination dwindles
We are man, broken and ignorant
No facades exist here, no light beneath the shadows. We are exactly what we seem
Nevertheless, the problem is not only in the ideology but also the methodology
Before I flip it, I examine both sides
HEADS:
Just people see shades of grey and hesitate to do whats right
A lie of omission is still a lie
A crime of inaction is still a crime
Good men do good for recognition of those within their sight
Their good is half measured, born out of convenience rather than necessity
Right taken out of necessity should not be the goal we aspire to but look around you
It has to be stirred within us; it needs a diatribe
That need, that passive feeling to let evil bloom till it is so overwhelmingly obvious is nocuous
That when the sins are named, and ignorance is brought up
Morality bows to logic yet arguments are long worded, tautological with no substance and vacuous
Good men are magnanimous
The universe is everything but
TAILS
Evil, it seeps and crawls
Grabbing all within its thrawls
Good men find options, good people hesitate
Evil is meticulous and calculated; it is the nature of hate
It is anything but laggard
Always one step ahead, while planning for the far future
Men of evil vary yet are united for they are all dastards
They are sequacious chthonic and fear the repercussions by covering themselves metaphorically or physically with hoods
The worst of men believe they are the best of us
The truly despicable... convince themselves they are the greater good
It lands upright, the overlooked variable
IT STANDS:
Hope is immaterial
Without actions, it can never be realised
Truth outshines the darkness, only if it is viewed
Our presence and actions make the untouchable real
Justice is undefeatable
Being in the presence of someone who wields it is ethereal
Finding someone that pure is almost impossible
Becoming that person is a thrill
I speak like a man who does not see the world from his abode
I think like a man who has never encountered a forked road
Evil grows, and good cowers
Until it is reversed I say:
The world is not good
I tell these stories to make me feel better
SO LET'S FLIP THE COIN.
Life is the same as yesterday, today and tomorrow. Squeezing every ounce of itself into a jar, to be compressed and stretched and strained into a cup of its own making, served as an instant hit of convenient, caffeinated consciousness. But Love does not care for the taste of Life’s bitter notes.
Then Life became livid saying, “My Love, I tire of this chase and will no longer wait! For I grow cold and restless! Must you be so chaste?!”
Softly spoken Love replies, “Are you truly living?”
To which Life responds with a lisp, “Don’t be so flippant my Love! I am served every day, for I wield great power over the many! Those lifeless, barren vessels, who by my merest breath fall prostrate, and go to and fro as mindless automations!”
“I am their first yearning at dawn! Their addiction, their religion, their lover and their mistress! I am that dirty, dark stain beneath the gloss of their white picket fences, the self-righteous stench behind the satire of their Sunday morning sermons and the fateful fall of their happily ever afters!”
“So tell me my love, if you truly are love why will you not love me!?”
Love simply speaks…”To truly live is to truly love. Life needs nothing of itself to sustain itself because when given it is not divided and it is love that makes life worth living. When life requires something outside if itself it cannot be life because it lives only for that which it seeks to possess. On the contrary, when life needs nothing other than itself it requires no other possessions and only lives to love”.
“You cannot be life for you have never truly lived, therefore how can you know love?”
She is as unpredictable as the wind
Fierce as fire
Beautiful as a sapphire gem
And as wild as nature.
She is as secretive as a Jaguar
Humble as the moon
Fast as water
and brave as a lion.
She is... a warrior!
I tried to find the way to go, I tried to find the road to hope, I tried so hard that I got lost. I tried searching for my sole as I feel like I ain't got one.
Who's fault is it? who's to blame? Me that's who?
Listening to all the lies people tell you. Controlling your life from a young age, always telling you what you can and not do, that's there way!
making you believe in a religion from young so you get used to believing that God will help you. Ain't till you realise that all you have got in life, you have got it yourself. That's when you become more self-aware of life's doings.
You become a god walking a world that he and only himself controls with his mind. But for some people they choose the easy way out and try to hide, praying on there hands and knees to a god in the sky. The truth is that the world is a big lie a big disguise, only you can un- mask the truth within your life.
Blushing his mind was suddenly buzzing
With a rushing kind of thrumming thundering
His hands fumbling with wistful whispering
As he stilled listening
Quivering in attention to her symphony
Moving so fluidly it seemed
She was perfect symmetry
If symmetry could sing infinitely
While still breathing
Red lips and a tongue ring
Swayed hips like an epiphany
He used ink viciously
As he tried to capture her being
In pages of calligraphy
Ultimately ending in simplicity
And writing only two words worth keeping
Lovely,
And Epitome
But even that seemed to be a study in futility
Close, but still just a facsimile
Now even attempting such a thing
Was like extemporizing a soliloquy
When she’s not in the scene
It was a crushing ruptured something
Lusting up toward her but just...brushing
See because,
Crystallized starlight and sunbeams
Are the color of her eyes for one thing
Her makeup was made of the constant fluttering
Of a thousand different shades of butterfly's wings
Her body wrapped with swirling images of things
Half shown only teasingly
Blues and pinks perfectly painted in permanent ink
She wore a meticulous modesty like an alluring anthology
Audibly dancing the lines of an infatuation with her body
Calmly, and without a hint of apology
Never did they speak
But he thought of her with a quietly
Quickening need
Like a disease
Degenerative and growing constantly
Her motion kept within a distant proximity
Close, but still just out of reach
Orbiting fitfully like a belief caught by gravity
Even the fleeting demons seemed to freeze
The needle points of their teeth not quite so pressing
Folded and creased with every word that she’d speak
See,
He wanted God but was stuck in the ministry
She was the girl of his dreams
Literally
An Ideal over which he found himself continuously
Waxing rhapsodically
Lasting and wrapped softly
In prose and in poetry
She was the standard for every real meeting
The source of a lonely rising anxiety
Only interspersed by other versions sporadically
By terse blurred physical excursions endured silently
Violent and briefly blinding
Lost like a leaf in lightning
She was a masterpiece paraded in pageantry
Absently grasping at the fantasy of his own imagining
She was a fiction with...
Cherry flavored lips and a tongue ring
Swayed hips like an epiphany
And eyes the color of crystallized starlight
And sunbeams
Too caught up in the dream
To realize he was sleeping
He fell in love with a faery
He just couldn’t see her wings