Poetry-Thing Thursday: Best When Lived Right

Characteristic souls suffer in silence,
while effete tools eke out unimaginable existences,
that cause collateral casualties via circular causality,
from hatred that homes its hammers on honesty and honor.

Seek not the darkness,
it will find you soon enough.
And weep not for heartless,
your wounds will need you tough.
And if the light should find you too,
rejoice in the reprieve from doom,
for it is eternal,
and you are not.

Eyeing eggs of eternity from eons beyond an eager era,
is the province of science’s promise, prophets, and principle,
whom no matter their name find the game lame,
so meddle with neurons of nits whom know nothing.

For the darkness recedes,
but a few moments–
a flash of light and breath,
we call life.
It is short and sweet.
Delicious between sheets.
A flickering torch,
ever haunted by darkness.

So make the most of your time,
your light,
your life,
for there’s one and one alone,
and it’s best when lived right.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: The Ball for Society

Leave the world better than you entered it,
or else don’t come at all.
‘Cause laziness is rife with indecision,
and society’s come to call.

Its lights are on,
and the porch awaits,
for you to sit upon.
So take your place.

Not merely one of you,
but all.
Change can’t happen otherwise–
no matter how big or small.

Stiffen your lips,
so that all may see,
and come sway your hips,
at the Ball for Society.

Where wit and wisdom’s profound,
and blood from your heart does pour,
So use it, or lose it on the sound,
of your ass hitting the floor.

For if we don’t help the world grow,
than no-one will,
or even show,
but there’s work to do still.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Ruminations

When of Death I speak,
your senses need not feel weak,
nor falter as if meek.
For these are Ruminations,
those which I keep,

locked away and out of sight,
lest I wish to incite,
a brawl, a melee, some primal fight.
So use your intuitions,
lead with only your own light.

For there may be gods or devils or kings,
none of which to my liking.
And though disagreements may be striking,
always resist the temptations,
to become the brutal viking.

Instead, live and laugh and love and die,
but fear nothing that gives no reply.
For if, with an end you must comply,
remember the best of conditions:
you were born in this world, alone, don’t cry.

To change the situation?
Accept your feeble station;
80 years or so with earth as your location.
So in my belabored loquation
I bid you luck and love, all of life’s libation.