Ode to “medication”

Minus a needle or lance,
Declaring your head was askew,
Upon you, their mind, it advanced,
Experiment theirs, became you.

Stormy your thoughts from within,
Your circuits would cross and divide.
Resetting your ends they’d begin
With chemistry pimping your ride.

Responsiveness, yours now delayed,
Shuffled and slurred was your way.
Your mind, up for you, was remade,
Erased and re-taped every day.

Then slipping away from our view,
That evening, your final ascent.
No more “medication” for you,
You gave it all up. It was Lent.

Our father

Our father obsolesced,
Our mother nature dressed,
We’re tolerantly fooled,
As everybody’s ruled.

Sex is tweaked and queered,
Religion’s engineered
With victims as their tools.
Deep into the schools,

God’s law unconfessed,
Mankind at his best,
Trades God for creation.
Now we as a nation,

Declare refuse divine,
With deviants align,
Charge God with abuse,
While tracking our caboose.

Modeled

From above His artistry,
Modeled there each little pea,
Spaced out, placed so perfectly,

Stretched his heaven by decree.
Here below we clearly see,
Symbols of eternity.

Isaiah 45:12 – “I made the earth and created man on it; it was my hands that stretched out the heavens, and I commanded all their host.”

A stone’s throw

Lovingly they’re smothering,
Buffering the suffering,
Parts of their experiment,
Slaughtered children innocent.

With one and two they set the stage,
Compromised, controlled the rage,
Infiltrated, culture shocked,
Explosively foundations rocked.

Hard or soft they pitch and sell
Bring about their heavened hell
With occupations, tolerations,
Customized annihilations.

When globalized democracies
Surrender to their wars of peace,
Every nation clear vanilla
Neutered under one umbrella.

http://www.veteransnewsnow.com/2014/08/01/anthony-lawson-the-blood-of-palestine-is-on-the-hands-of-the-bribe-takers/

Lone wolf

Empty cups are when she stops

Brushes filled with paint like mops

Spontaneous not planned or drawn

She’s an unaware Wolf Kahn

We the people’s restroom court

Me thinks the great experiment doth not protest enough

Children’s bathrooms unisex usurped without rebuff

Stretched out into spectrums two sexes for one

Litigants and plaintiffs restroom court begun

Sexual objectors remain within their briefs

Bound up restroom courts can’t provide relief

Art

With tools of opportunity

We make it independently

We exercise responsibly

Our independent sovereignty

A simple curiosity

Determining discovery.

Repeat it oft’ predictably

Redundant circularity

Practiced with transparency

Developing transcendency

Fifteen Years

Fifteen years on “medication”,

Now his mind’s on strict vacation,

Gone his elementary glow,

Self embraced rocks to and fro.

Lately laughing often he

Continues uncontrollably.

No antecedent of suspect,

We treat it as a side effect.

Apt formulated “medication”

Affixing this new complication.

“We’ve got a pill for that”, they say.

Take it each and every day.

Side effects no laughing matter.

Cover up the maddened hatter.

One life long intoxication,

Incremental thought cessation.

Quick Draw

Finished in seconds, his story was told,

Two sheets of paper for every year old.

He’d leap like a chimp, first up and then down,

Seldom sit still, he’d chase all around.

A handful of words exclaim and repeat

Leaping ecstatically, up off his feet.

Hidden for years, only late did I see

He was a gamer that little monkey.

His hand so quick, a slashing squeegee,

How he loved Mario and his friend Luigi.

No Mess

When she stands she’s seldom still, shifting side to side until,

She speaks to you, up in your face, physically evades your space.

Seeks to please, a heart of gold, she does the best with what she’s told.

Art for her’s a fixed routine, this happy tempera painting queen.

Fills her space with colored fare, here and there with focussed care.

Sense her movement and repose, as she about her painting goes.

Anxious as paint levels drop, she must refill them to the top.

Rhythm, placement, such finesse, misinterpreted as mess.