Saturday, January 21, 2017

Blind Guides ... Traitorous Hides!

Blind Guides ... Traitorous Hides!

by Lucretia Mccloud aka Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)



To the pit!
Not ... a golden ring to aspire

yet steady steps
onto conveyor
belts

trail them
uncomprehendingly
behind

blind, pious guides.

True,
stripped men grovel;
their families cry out,

their pain--financial strain,
as they stumble, then tumble
down

tight tubes
onto
unforgiving
relentless

waves of tithes.

Not even waxed--the slide inside.

Bumped brains into muddle,
still push
to extricate

grappling hands from
back
pockets,

since life
yields bowls
of
rising dough

impossible to bake.

"Why this extra bind when my heart is not inclined?

He died, right?

To remove added pain?"

Misapplied
to drive sheep forward,
"To keep kicking against the goads

Makes it hard for you,"

whiny counterfeit comfort
for seemingly caustic complaints.

Centuries of mounting monetary mandates
bend shoulders and backs into tables.

Not fables!
Reality!

Broken mental slaves now exhaustedly crawl towards final darkness--Eternal Graves,
to escape

Vultures

circling
Sundays
anew.

Their
world
denuded.

Real
Hope--Defused.

Eyes
unfortunately
scaled

Promise

Assured
Demise,

since

Judas(s),
greedy,

their
ill-advised sheep

Despise.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Can One Just Knock On Heaven's Door?

Can One Just Knock On Heaven's Door?
by Lucretia Mccloud aka Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)



Daddy,
I don't want to live here anymore

amidst famine, earthquakes, pestilence, violence,
earthwide

so much bloody war.

Yesterday molested;

today
by family deplored

for disloyally revealing
what occurred tragically
to me before.

Please,

may I rap
tap, even lightly on heaven's door?

Will you open if I do implore?

Maybe I'll crawl till my knees are sore.

Will you then open up for me
heaven's door?

*

Daughter,
you too I do adore!

I feel your pain;
your anguish more.

I have a remedy already in store
to help you survive;

your spirit soar.

My Kingdom Come.
Peace to restore.

Around the earth
a Paradise!

For this do seek
I do implore.

With Christ as King
to remove all vice.

No need to try
to sadly die.

No need to rap
on heaven's door.

If I do call and you do answer

it may not be to starry skies.

If dust you are
under death's hateful banner

will you balk

if to earth
you are reprised?

My purpose
has always been

for

obedient mankind

to live in harmony
upon this land.

It's not a plan
to dispose of any

meek and humble

following my commands.

So if you must
sleep for a second

close your eyes
and rest your soul.

I will call your name
in order

to release you from

what masses consider
an unjust
cold.

You will rise
to love of friends

and family you do adore.

A world
cleansed

of which Jesus boldly
an evildoer told

"You will be with me in Paradise."

An opportunity:
Youthful Forever.

Never old.