REALITY

A Red Rose

A red rose is a most beautiful flower;
protected by thorns on its stem;
who’d believe; it’s a metaphor of power;
a symbol of the man from Bethlehem.

Like that man; the rose was perfection;
created in the heavens above;
thorns on its stem; provided

The Essence Of Memory

What is this mystery called memory:
how can a past thought last;
many of them, still live in infamy;
others, have gone on a fast.

What is it that makes us remember;
words or deeds, from yesterday;
some even become a dissembler;
their memory; different each

Thorns Of Growth

In life; most experience sadness and pain;
enduring tragedies and sorrow;
we’re tired of hearing our loss; leads to gain;
all want to see a better tomorrow.

But tomorrow is more than a lifetime away;
it will not come at our beck and call;
we face

Logical Conclusions

We live in a world of Sheer fantasy;
pure logic; tossed in the sand;
everyone chooses what they’re to be;
created divisions, are planned.

Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac;
its tentacles reach far and wide;
lies are used in most every attack;
then; let all the fools

Heavenly Vision

I scan what appears as a vast domain;
my eyes, focused on a distant tree;
continuity of thought remains the same;
the mind describes, what my eyes see.

The eyes are merely receptors of light;
without a mind; there’s nothing to see;
thoughts create beauty; out of

Who, What, Where, and Why ?

Who is the creater of all there is;
the Master of all, to come;
who can claim all life, as His;
who is the Omnipotent One?

What is the purpose of consciousness;
that which makes us laugh or cry;
created by the Lord of Righteousness;

Democracy Of Tyranny

Voices deplore any threats to democracy;
as tho democracy is noble and wise;
those making claims; prefer an autocracy;
keeping their real plans, a disguise.

A pure democracy is where majority rules;
no matter how evil that majority might be;
allowing we become a nation of fools;

Ignorance Is Bliss

Some say that ignorance is bliss;
but, how, on earth, could it be;
knowledge is like a lover’s kiss;
only truth, can set us all free.

Is it bliss; that the blind can’t see;
or, that the deaf can’t hear;
what can be wrong