feeling completely anachronous

feeling completely anachronous

sitting, reflecting with my pen and pad

feeling completely anachronous

yes time has refused me 

or

i refused time’s rhymes

for nothing seems to be working together

could it be me who just does not understand

the complexity of perfection

and just why do these Suits get an erection

in lieu of my suffering

the greed merchants are dancing a devil’s dance

perchance i could change the music

i once thought

yet i feel like i am caught

at times

in this voracious vortex

and i try to keep up

perhaps in my limitedness

i have somehow loss touch with the sacredness

or was it my belief system which has collapsed

am i having a relapse

of the 60’s, the Renaissance

or is it the Dark Ages

but once again my friend

we have been here before

i remember when we burned the Witches in Salem

i say we because we stood by silently

yes, we have failed them

as the select few who knew God

at least they knew the God they fed us

and taught us how to trust

in their objective illusions

yes they have achieved their objective

and taught us the parameters of how we should live

and we gladly accepted their non truth truths

yes, we were young at mind, the youth

there for the cultivating of their own agendas

and there was no Miranda’s offered

as we went to sleep in our warm safe coffers

or was it coffins

with TV and the Moon

and now Remote Controls and a Six Pack

to relax

relax what

our minds ?

perhaps that is why i do not understand

yet inside of me there are demands

for release to something more pleasant

perhaps

the non acquiescence of my life

to a sentence of strife

yet i write these sentences

not to condemn

but to liberate us from the chains

that have been secured and extrapolated

some are shiny yet rust plated

for the Shit is old

all that nonsense we have been told

His Story

my God where is the Glory

the Salvation

in His Story

i pick up my pen again

to attempt to feebly examine this paradigm

this dynamic epidemic of indifference

to self

to others

to you

i ask my self

Bill what are you going to do

today

can you laugh it off as the clown you pretend to be

the court Jester of someone else’s kingdom

while telling yourself you are free

you have no damn idea

yeah

no idea

just how deep the rabbit hole is

this is not a quiz

i am telling you

the game is almost over

all the courageless ones run for cover

and what once was their lover

the world of illusion

has bent us over . . . backwards

and raped all that we thought we are

and were

and hope to be

daily

without cease

and we please

please . . .  please . . . please

give me more

it hurts too bad to stop

like a Donkey on Methadone

we have given up the real high

for the substitute

trying to evade the addictions

to our conflictions

seeking the light

found in our restrictions

that we can change this whole damned thing

we must forget the past times

for it will soon be past time

and the time will pass us on by

and our power will be forgotten

you know,

that power you long ago surrendered

just so you could buy what you could not afford

in advance

that power

to be authentic

to stand up

speak your mind

never minding the persecution

of truthful elocution

seeking resolutions

in truth’s fusion

into our realities

i am needing an advance Lord

i need a blessings down here

i get on my knees

begging please

take away this inane pain

i don’t really want the truth

at least not all of it at once

for that would cause me to be accountable

to what seems insurmountable

odds

with my self

with the world

with you

so i pray the prayer of delusions

and as i embrace my dysfunctional self

in my dysfunctional family

in my dysfunctional world

i just shake my head

waiting for some sort of Epiphanic solution

recording my feeble insightless evolution

from Soul to Pen to Paper

as i express

and i am pressed

to address

this feeling completely anachronous

yes, i am out of sync with something

and i feel it deep inside

and my soul has been crying

and i can no longer hide

or am i dying

drowning in the alpha-bet soup of this matrix

as i am digesting the letter

the word

of life

while i am feeling

completely anachronous

(c) 10 December 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.