Dreamscapes

Dreamscapes (alive and well), dancing with mental imagery, (shattered innocence),

kept company by images and thoughts,

(as if creating new times and lives.)

through experience and loss of innocence,

drawing mental curtains around my dreams of purity and lack of responsibility.

striking out against you,

(bone to bone)

fist to flesh,

(eye to eye)

runs like poison in my viens,

(through my heart)

and then into the reflection of my eyes.

you,

you brought me from the highest high to the lowest low in a matter of seconds,

one look,

one comment,

then the wind would blow out of another direction.

anger has bare knuckles, pl

aying over notes of combustion,

breaking flesh,

pounding bones,

do you know what you have done?

(all the things you try to hide away)

deeply hidden, never meant to see the light of day,

beating down civility.

II.

this afternoon I looked at the latest list of all the beautiful people, all tall and thin, blue eyed blondes.

i felt ugly and unimportant,

(bearing guilt and shame)

the shadows of my appearance,

i looked for windows to jumop from,

to find silent peace,

rather than feeling ugly.

no amount of sacrificial absolution can assist me,

the formulaic prayers are no longer heard,

instead they just bounce off of empty walls.

T.S. Deary

Infinity

every molecule,

of me,

is in constant,

orbit,

with the presence,

of you,

and how you,

lived

and even more,

with how,

you died,

and at my worst,

times,

I melt,

into the fabric of time,

consumed with,

sadness and melancholy,

only to be lifted,

by the thought,

of the heavenly place,

that has been,

appointed,

to resurrect,

the bones you broke,

and the blood,

you spilled,

into the essence,

of a newly formed spirit,

added to the weight of,

infinity.

T.S. Deary

A Gallery of Fools

The gentleman from New York stood in front of the Senate and spoke to the assembled body about the passing of Ginsburg, in religious, almost messianic language, about her rigtheousness and how the Holy One waited to bring her to him becuase she was needed here.

Dying wishes and appeals to emotion – all done by design, without conviction, to appeal and confuse the masses, to hold onto power and to continue to subvert the written rules.

Considering dying wishes to be ab ove the rule of law.

Use of appealing and righteous language all to hide his bleeding heart,

his reality and the power he seeks are from his words, a world apart,

underhandedly using her death to increase his power advantage.

This political quest to grab and hold and to keep as much power as he can,

all of this is smoke and mirrors.

all pointing fingers,

mental acrobatics,

stretched logic, warm and fuzzy referneces to God and to religion,

all the time pretending he has morals,

what matters to him is the size of the cushion that rests upon his seat of power.

God?

You – Invoke God?

The author of morality!

Where was your righteousness when there was all the bearing of false witness agaisnt Kavanaugh and when Barrett’s “dogma” was at issue?

You only seek to extend your power,

stay inside your Ivory Tower,

Pretending to care,

Dissent! Don’t you dare!

All this slieght of hand and mental magic, deeptive statements and moral ambuguity.

Sleight of hand, twisted words, noisy marching band, fraudulent, absurd.

Crying false tears, lifted up false tribute, playing on irrational fears, you, worshippiong power, false God substitute.

The Speaker of the House from California,

more concerned with ice cream and salon appointments than with a real and lasting legacy,

claims to be a Catholic, quoting Mathew, supports abortion up to the moment of birth, the great pretender whose acting skills have gone by the wayside, a disingenuous caricature of herself.

Nancy Antoinette – “Let them eat ice cream!”

All the while the nation burns all around and people’s right to safety and property is destroyed by angry children in mobs and masks.

At lewast she got her hair done – “That was not my fault, I was set up – not my fault.”

Then comes Feinstein – with her criticism of the religious beliefs of a totally qualified judge in order to protect the Church of Partial Birth Abortion and the high sacrament of fetal destruction.

Holding onto power is contingent on the legality of abortion, not caring for women but shattering the most sacred bond in the universe all the while promoting their virtue constantly.

Blind Guides! No morality, no caring of a true nature, power is their drug!

A gallery of fools, no building up, only destruction, collecting power hungry jewels, a dangerous destruction.

A condescending morality, questions turned into arrows, power hungry duality, life reduced to the worth of sparrows.

Abandon rule of law, demand the honoring of tradition, let the streets run wild, violent punches to the jaw, as if we needed her permission.

Politician temper tantrums, massive, greedy power grab, holding a nation for ransom, all they do is poke and stab.

Fraudunet and concerning,

one thing they will never shun,

power is their yearning,

most holy, sacred sacrament is partial birth abortion.

Left leaning destroyers, abandon all principles, mob rule, self made lawyers, destructive mentality, simple.

Religious mob devotion, destruction of all tradition, regualting destructive emotion, murderous mission.

Onslaught of arrogance, no acceptable reply, squandering their inheritance, don’t you dare ask why?

Incapable of recognizing God, fraudulent spiritual frenzy, self righteous, total fraud, never showing mercy.

Passing evil off as good, clearly they have never understood, secualr commandments, moral disbandment.

Overwhelming arrogance, disguised extravagance, self indulgent elegance, lacking basic elegance.

Modern day witch hunt, soft ball questions – demented bunt, hang him out to dry, just wait for him to die.

Just prop him up in an empty suit, staring at nothing, inert, a bowl of fruit, constant mental decline, decietful mental shrine.

Old disingenuous fraud, straight faced liar to millions, worshipper at the altar of tyranny, rude, obnoxious child, cat clawed, spending outrageously, in the trillions, adhering to theories of conspiracy.

They constantly claim racism, the same outdated and careless attack, hurling insults and slander, the same rhetorical and ridiculous mechanism, constantly sending flack, no decent candor.

Holding onto power and their precious votes, forgetting oaths and promises, never relying on anything but now, always underhanded, never unrighteous, throw it all out and see if anything floats.

The integrity of the elections, the epitome of misdirection, the integrity of elections, massive decietful deception.

Vote by mail – What could possibly go wrong? They speak like bells or hollow sounding gongs.

Vote by mail – What could possibly go wrong? This was their plan all along.

In this gallery are hanging portraits of mediocrity, monuments to percieved superiority, this gallery of fools and all their hanging pictures, clowns, ringmasters and all their manic gestures.

Hanging portraits of mediocrity, monuments of percieved superiority, with thier lists of names, playing out their fascist games.

T. S. Deary

11/6/20 – 11/12/21

Hearts On Their Sleeves

I don’t know what I did to you?

(I only ask because you told me to fuck off!”)

Your anger is misplaced , it cuts me but it is coming from somewhere beyond me.

The way you disengage, and turn the page, the way you check out and glaze oever, not caring about anything.

All this belittling and disdain, written all over your face,

no idea how much has been given to you and no gratitude for any of it.

Then there is you,

all balcked out eyes,

trmbling fingers,

frowning face,

sarcastic words.

Then there is the one who asked me what a Dad is?

He said he did asked because he has never had one.

So, I told him that a Dad is hte one man who you hate growing up and then come to respect more than anyone you know and if you are lucky you get to tell him before it is too late.

(sometimes though, it will be too late.)

He is the one who will hold you up even when you have nort asked and don’t even he did until much later on,

the one who will hold the door open for your long after you have slammed it shut.

I remember the girl,

I saw her crying, yesterday, big tears from lovely eyes,

I wondered if anyione would be there to catch those tears that fell along her cheeks?

(I knew it had to be that boy with the sagging pants and all that out loud bravado.)

stepping all overt your joy and confidence just waiting for his cue and never failing to notice.

Both of you all fire and force,

you, all sweetness and fine mist,

he all swagger and rebellion,

She a knockout smile and blond hair, eyes red from crying and wearing her heart on her sleeve.

(there it is easy for him to see which is why he hurts her so easily.)

T. S. Deary

5/4/22

P.A.F.M