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JoeC's original poetry and photos about life and all things under the sun.

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Sunday, November 29, 2015


There's a storm coming,
Razing continents for all they're worth,
There's a tempest brewing,
Raging furious, 'cross the thirsty earth,
There's a pale horse advancing,
Death's red rider spurring, cursing,
Truculent pestilence is prancing,
Satan is shouting, wildly dancing,
Soon the Serpent will be stalking,
Soon the Reaper will be talking,
Bring out your dead,
Soon Death will be out walking,
Bring out your dead,
A vile monster's coming,
Bring out your dead,
Monstrosities brazenly drumming,
Bring out your dead.
War is stewing,
Bring out your dead,
Danger's brewing,
Bring out your dead.
Beasts are rampaging,
Bring out your dead,
Rats are staging,
Bring out your dead.
Demons have breached the castle wall,
Bring out your dead,
Godless men have taken charge of all,
Bring out your dead.
Now the rueful end is near,
Bring out your dead,
Now darkness is what good men fear,
Bring out your dead.
War planes are flying,
Bring out your dead,
Children are crying,
Bring out your dead.
All good things shredded, so austere,
Bring out your dead,
Journey's end is near, it's clearly here,
Bring out your dead.
Leviathan has raised its ugly head,
Bring out your dead,
Loki has warred in Satan's stead,
Bring out your dead,
Bring out your dead.
Distorted by that gruesome face,
When ravaged folk lay splayed and dead,
Beyond the realm of God's good grace,
Where expired armies lay corrupt and bled,
Once war is expunged by Armageddon's final strike,
Once Doom stakes one final head upon a bloody spike,
Once darkness looms o'er all the earth,
Once hope is lost,
Beyond all earthly cost,
Once death has shackled man in a hellish berth,
Once the dead have rotted away,
Once lasting peace has come to stay,
Pure springs will rush forth again,
Blessings in a sacred place,
Upwelling founts will gush again,
Prayers to wash man's sorry face,
Sun will shine upon earth's grief stricken living,
Earth's glory will heal with bountiful giving.
Blue sky will deem a new day is yawning,
Fields of herbs will thrive once the new is dawning,
Gentle deer will graze and mew, at rest with the spotted fawn,
Beasts and birds will roam abundant, wild and free of greedy strife,
Earth itself shall rejoice with Heaven, once all corruptions done and gone,
Purity will once more tend every blessed limb of that sacred tree of life.

Saturday, November 21, 2015


Painting umbrellas in my troubled mind,
While urgent rain cascades like lover's tears,
Pebbled sidewalks lie distorted, in arcane kind,
Rainbowed promises falsely soothe my foolish fears.

Along life's perilous nunatak path I wander,
Sparrows flutter helpless in the freezing rain,
Tragic life with all its perfumed dreams I ponder,
As embattled odes conjure ruthless haste again.

"What now?" Spirits querie with sombre tone,
Golden leaves ashimmer, before autumn's gone,
Far across a cajoling sea in the magpie zone,
Spring lifts its vibrant head, e're summer sings its fragrant song.

Now winter storms through my fervent mind,
Cold ice and snow chill my furrowed brow,
Beyond this frigid realm Jacaranda bloom, in purplish kind,
While raging squalls besiege that soft southern mow.

If tenants rent this mindful space,
If vagrants rove this vacant place,
If drifters tread this tattered grace,
Then umbrage piques this pious case.

Still these seasons forebode a coming reign,
Phantom aurora sweeps across a wavering stage,
Seasoned thoughts inspire thoughtless gain,
Still crass, moonstruck calamities, so calloused, rage.

Beyond that tropic, past Antarctic glacial guild,
Beyond jungle thoughts, that insipid dreams instill,
Beyond parched desert climes, that withered notions build,
I stumble blind and anguished, frosted by love's biting chill.

"But then . . . !" Spirit choirs prompt in unison,
Monstrous, hungry whales breach, an iceberg sea,
Hunting tigers, silent tread, their jungle run,
Vipers masquerade, as branches, on the sacred  tree.

Stepping into a void, where darkness dwells,
Flying into the sun, where mysteries are born,
Like Jonah floundered, by giant ocean swells,
Like Icarus discovering, how array is shorn.

Seasoned elements remain, imprinted on my harried soul,
Spirits embellish nightmare screams, ignite Brimstone's furied horn,
Demons cast rakish shadows, 'cross Hell's abstruse shoal,
Angels clash with frenzied fiends,  hellions, supernatural borne.

So arcane love distorts this wicked reflection,
While lover's cries, rampage with thunderous inflection,
Those ribboned sidewalks, pebbled with  distorted fears,
Promising summer song, astride life's many years.

Hope instills a sacred love,
Faith compels the soul to quest,
Dreaming wisdom from above,
As mercy sends the deep to rest.

Thus in my checkered thoughts and dreams,
Life's joyous glory wanes, or so it seems,
Yet seasoned parks, bathed in divine bluebell flowers,
Wake umbrella memories, of painted rainbow towers.

Saturday, November 14, 2015

First fear,
then panic.
Is it just me?
Is it manic?
What?
This race!
What?
This game!
It`s the same,
all this shame.
It`s in your face,
this fucking race.
Revolution at a snails pace.
So retrace.
First fear,
second panic.
It`s in the air,
it isn`t manic.
Some don`t believe,
sense beyond retrieve,
end of the world,
end of the human race,
end of life,
it`s rife,
Creation unfurled,
curses forever hurled.
It`s no disgrace,
this panic race,
with it`s manic face,
sans love or grace.
Whence once this world was new,
fresh, untamed,
now soiled, defamed.
But who knew?
Who knew!
What?
This reckless shame,
where golden mattered,
where diamonds shattered,
where hope drew crowds,
but leisure came at a price,
more than just the cost of rice,
more than fat and flour,
costing more every hour.
Some gluttons feast,
hour after hour,
beyond weeks and months and years,
through decades and centuries,
beyond lifetimes and starving tears,
beyond unpopular manic fears,
all those unhappy years.
Creation sought and fought,
with so many splendid ventures,
as mankind hurried,
throughout the ages,
beyond stealth and phages,
beyond fish in bowls,
and birds in cages,
people ran.
No!
Humankind raced,
while nature graced creation.
The world invested in nation after nation,
feeding fear and panic,
feeding Yuletide manic.
Incredible as it may seem,
from stern to stem,
far across the beam,
every fear was measured,
as the golden was treasured,
as the panic was caged and managed.
Every dream,
every dreamer,
every moment of REM,
every crying child bandaged,
every dark roasted coffee,
sweetened with sugar,
whitened with creamer,
thus fear was sentenced normal,
golden treasure deemed so formal,
so all that stealth and wealth,
horded by that Tower of Power,
incorporated by those tall castle walls,
from whence rich and fame still errantly calls,
broadcasting o`er the wailing fear,
prescribing sugar pills and rainbow trinkets,
settling down the manic panic,
as the world ends,
as creation bends,
as the Creator giggles,
performing perfunctory snuggles,
observing first the fear,
watching then the panic,
balancing first the fear,
controlling then the manic.