In seventeen years the Phoenix resumes
like a prodigal hellbent it consumes
and cataclysmic entombs once again
a cycle of doom time hides from our ken
our descendants, like our ancestors, stare
at the reddish night sky–sun doesn’t dare
to watch the destruction, the construction
of man in disruption, the corruption
buried deep where the elite try to keep
power but the hour has come to sleep.
And so now at the height of our glory
in our forum create a love story
and fill every moment we’ve been given
–and not by stacking fiat greed-driven
but kindly, misdeeds forgiven, renew
our souls, remember what we’re here to do.
Inspired by: Forum, Stare, Height and Prodigal
We snap each other out of the dungeon
programming whenever we have plunged in
to dreamworlds our senses’ filters project
our manmade fears. Awake we can reject
someone else’s tainted creation, prove
our powerful imaginations groove
vital as the foaming wave upon sand
each breath boring through dissonance to land
divine sparks we probe planetariums
dispute unproven calendarium
proselytizing the slave protocol.
Our souls free and wild can’t be caged at all
Inspired by: Boring, Filter, Foaming, and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt to use word(s) that start with “pro“.
When I was a young child, what did I know
singing nursery rhymes and pop songs
which I learned by rote
and even now they catch me
the dungeon programming lures
designed to entrance inventive minds
implying that hearts can trust
the storylines of time
erasing the spiritual battle
from our rattled senses, blind
to the elastic ether awaiting
our fantastic commands
dissonance hallucinations for lunch
we bunch together in another’s dream
life is not as it seems
Inspired by: Lunch, Imply, Heart, Trust and Spiritual.
“I don’t believe what I read in the papers, they’re just out to capture my mind. I ain’t worrying, I ain’t scurrying, I’m just…~Paul Simon
Castaway of the scamdemic, my ears
still ringing from pejoratives old dears
in fear-orientation threw like darts–
did they intend to pierce my cherished heart?
Inspired by Orientation, Castaway, Pejorative and Cherished.
And Paul Simon’s birthday song.
Featured image: Easy to play with orientation when living on a lake.
Wakening in the game precipitates
perceptions how mass hypnosis sedates
flummoxed by the sensory avatar
saved by a night walk under brilliant stars
and peeks into the windows of the damned
plugged into the programming screens they’re scammed
by scripted actors’ shrieks, media swill
impulsive leaps of fallacy so shrill
and mired in time-space how we forget
we are immortals training, we’re beset
by triggers and calamities to grow
our only mission: voicing our own show.
Inspired by: Precipitate, Shriek, Flummoxed and Impulsive.
After I verified the worldwide scam
nefarious plot wrought with bots and spam
fueling the fear in the simulation–
a master course in my education–
painstakingly tracing roots: causation
false premises of rotten foundation,
the luring game’s invisible forcefield
became apparent when I did not yield
To my elation, the bifurcation
of timelines reveals my own creation
outside of the AI computation
reality is my own narration.
Inspired by: Nefarious, Course, Yield, Verify and the lessons learned by the scamdemic.
Well I guess what hurt me most of all
You were playing with my heart.~Wafia
What will it take to thaw my frozen heart
encasing the anger I’ve chosen not
to release, setting free with a wild sweep
the gamut of feelings a hurt child keeps
at bay, the only display finicky
at the table, my body brilliantly
telling them all chaos I can’t digest
but no one understands they are hard-pressed
the timelines shift I’m in the now I know
it’s all a game I play to help me grow
a rueful chuckle breaks the childish spell
and finally I laugh, the past dispel
Inspired by: Chuckle, Finicky, Sweep and Gamut
Featured image: Queens Canyon, Colorado
Five a.m. she’s knocking at my door.
Peephole shows I’ve never seen her before.
No temptation to her toxicity.
I’m far too circumspect for complicity.
But my dog is awakened and barking
willing to buy the drama she’s hawking.
She loiters and wails, Danny, I just want
my phone, plaintive and proferring detente.
I don’t know Danny and her phone’s not here.
My door remains locked and things get queer.
She’s outside now her running car is parked
screaming obscenities in the snowy dark
until a tall lean guy leaves my building
she leaps flailing, then falls, he’s unyielding.
He starts his car, she beats and menaces.
When the cops pull in the scene finishes.
Inspired by: Toxicity, Circumspect, Temptation, Loiter and true story of an unknown early morning visitor.
At night I pace the rain-washed city streets
screens garish blare this is reality
a crowd pours from the IMAX reprogrammed
tossing pithy new phrases signals jammed
by someone else’s creation baited
with lures that lead to frustration mountains
labyrinthine paths promising fountains
of felicitous youth. I walk on by
comfortable in my skin, I’m unharmed by
the history-rewritten dissonance
pulling my way upwards with common sense.
Inspired by: Allegory, Mountain, Felicitous and Spontaneous.
Featured image: Me, hiking the Olomana Trail on Oahu.
Over two years of dubious clampdowns
forsaken by gurus who cowed, bowed down
while out of the box I was scorned and shunned
barefaced, unmasked, intuition forewarned
now 96 countries have changed their tune
follow the money, travel is a boon
economies wrecked, prices through the roof
it’s been a big scam and now comes the proof
Inspired by: Travel, Roof, Guru, Dubious and written in the Stream of Consciousness Saturday for Out of the box.