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  #1  
Old 01-14-2010, 02:38 PM
The Poet The Poet is offline
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Join Date: Jan 2010
Posts: 34
Default Qouth The Poet Evermore...


Unending Darkness, men hide behind veils
never leaving a shadow or even a trail
of crumbs to lead you, down the primrose way
before you stumble down the quay
You will never penetrate the secret, the joke's on you
You will never sort out what is false from what is true
If you only knew the truth, you would laugh as I
But then again you just might cry

Things are far worse then you could ever know
Things that the nightly news will never show
The news is manufactured, the stories are manure
The leaders who lead should be flushed down a sewer

My advice, intrepid soul?
Follow The Poet, wherever he may go
The truth is stranger then you can understand
But it is more solid then falsehood's sinking sand

I speak in parables, but not in lies
Decipher the meaning, a word to the wise
I am an enigma wrapped in a mystery
But I have watched history
If we but learn the lessons ,we may have a victory

Thus quoth the raven "Nevermore"...

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  #2  
Old 02-13-2010, 04:29 PM
upagainstit upagainstit is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Trenton, Ontario, Canada
Posts: 99
Default Re: Qouth The Poet Evermore...

Have found my "inner sense of be" the way to go.

Am sure that "life" (what's left of it),has been reduced to it's "conscious level"

One can see, all out side of itself and all inside of itself, consciously.

Whatever there would be in addition to our "conscious" selves (as a whole),
is in foreign control and "they" are nowhere in sight.

Above and beyond us without even coming in contact with us.
They make life as it is go away but we're still here.
Already right now, can't be changed. It's in our "whole" one-where.
Our conscious selves have to come to the fore-front and go it alone.
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  #3  
Old 02-14-2010, 10:44 AM
jane doe jane doe is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: Dec 2009
Posts: 356
Default Re: Qouth The Poet Evermore...

Since this is an intro rambling well
I'll say hello and then bid farewell.
Over the shadows to the crooked lie
down the tattered cloakroom and into the pie.
Slice my emotions and tatter my veil
living with out conspiracy could be hell.
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