unquerulous

unquerulous

i obeisantly stand

in the dew laden grass

of the night

and the cold damp moisture

awakens my avatar

as Buddha would say

“the earth is my witness”

and i look deeply

into the dark

Star strewn  heavens

where untold countless paths

which possess

untold countless possibilities

of the way

a man should go

i know there is a mystery

i have yet to comprehend . . .

shall i render my wonder

to the simplicity

or my suspect  faith

or shall i tease my inquisitiveness

to come and play with me

and together we create

yet another dimension

yet to unfold

i think about that “Zero Point”

from whence all that is

was spawned

and i question

who made The Zero

who was is that set this burning coal

within my heart

and girded my mind,

my loins

with that same incessant

insatiable

need

for more

who is it that could conceive

of such a perfect wonder

as the “Breath of Life”

and make it so ?

i have in the soul of my hand

a power unquenched

that thirsts for more

and i trepidation-ously

cast my caution behind me

into that abyss

for another day

another night

just like this

and perhaps then

answers will greet me

with a light that works

as it should

and open arms

as i

i obeisantly stand

in the dew laden grass

of the night

as the cold damp moisture

awakens my avatar

unquerulous

© 22 September 2014 : william s. peters

www.iamjustbill.com

i die daily

 

i die daily

i never imagined

a life without her

for she was my life

and how could i possibly go on

without her . . .

but that was not how it worked out

i would have gladly

laid down my life

that she would live . . .  forever

but the choice was not mine

to make

ever since she went away

i have died daily

hoping to resurrect my self

to that place where

dreams smile

with a certain providence

upon our wishes

for that  . .

“Happily Ever After”

with White picket fences

and no worries

about such trivialities

such as

mortality

but Eden is not here

is it ?

we dream with Utopic expectations

where the sensation of Joy

only exists

who ever thought that life

would come to this

you have gone away . .  ahead

and i . . .

the living dead

i would have died for you

given the choice

but it was never offered

so in lieu

of enjoying

the presence of you

i die daily

© 6 January 2014 : william s. peters, sr.

www.iamjustbill.com

http://youtu.be/E6cTLc0rB4w

is it Murder ?

is it Murder ?

is it murder when some

Genetic Food Magnate

feeds us the foods

that they are aware of

that will lead to our eventual demise ?

is it murder when the

Chicken

Pig

Cattle

Fish

Farmer

ignores the diseased elements

with which they cultivate their bank accounts

for the sake of expedience

that leads to the disease

that makes us to lie to rest

because our bodies

could not best the test

of the poisons

fed us ?

is it murder

when we declare war

one fitted with political agendas

where we drop bombs

and shoot

and take the lives of innocents

who never had anything

to say about it

and are not “The Enemy” ?

who pulls the triggers here

it is not you and i

for we like all others

of the common people

only vie to live

a fulfilled life

without the rife of strife

the “Chosen” few

choose to afflict us with ?

who pulled that trigger in 9 1 1

who pulled those triggers

in the Middle East ?

was it Oil,

or strategic Military positioning ?

is it murder

when the greed

of the oil companies

pollute our environment

causing cancers and death

for you

for i

for our families ?

is it murder

when our “Peace Officers”

profile known demographics

and beat the “Living” shit

out of you, me,

or anyone ?

is it murder when they experiment

in the Laboratories

creating new disease

to appease the curiosities

found and grounded in

“What If” ?

who pulls the triggers ?

Is it murder

for me to manufacture

Guns and Bombs

knowing the Sole purpose is that of . . .

Life Taking ?

is it murder

when we allow Industrial Waste to be dumped

in our environment,

our streams,

our air

poisoning all our the Earth’s

natural resources ?

is it murder when so many are hungry

suffering

in a world that is so abundant.

it is not an issue of lack,

but an issue of politics

is it murder . . .  hell yeah it is !

what is murder ?

Murder is the deliberate

taking of a life . . .

and they are deliberate . . . aren’t they ?

you may ask . . .

what am i “HARP”-ing on and for

perhaps it is time for us to murder

that apathetic disconnected consciousness

we so love

and speak up

about the murders of our Souls

our lives . . .

our futures . . .

and that of our Children

whether they be

deliberate or not.

a Homeless Family died last night

from exposure to the elements.

did the Banks we the people bailed out

give a damn ?

is it Murder ?

© 6 January 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

and i Dance

and i dance

Snow Angels dancing

between the Trees

as the gentle wind

tickles the leaves

giving them wings

i hear the breeze

rustling and awakening

at the top of the canopy

and the chorus joins in

singing in tones and notes

to be listened to

i stop all motion

within

and absorb this gift

of consciousness

for i may never witness this

again

somewhere there is a cold

but i feel it not

for there is a warm embrace

as i face

the universe of expression

during this session

of observance

and i dance

with the Angels of the Snow

© 4 January 2014 : william s. peters, sr.

www.iamjustbill.com

March On ?

March On ?

he stood amongst the nameless crowd

the silence within was much too loud

he lifted his head above the shroud

because he wanted to see

now empowered with opened eyes

he followed the others, self demised

and now he finally realized

that he too was not free

we questioned why he acquiesced

to give to drone-dom all his best

was this simple fate to be the test

of his “I” his Soul his “ME”

he now wondered to what the way

to whom, and what would he say

of his desires of the day

who would hear his plea

lost, confused they marched around

on what was told was sacred ground

follow me and thus be found

was that life’s sole decree

aimlessly they sauntered as a herd

offering not dissenting word

a fortuitous peace thou not gird

no question of what they be

his inner heart began to weep

for all he loved was long asleep

time of the errant continually creeps

for him, for you, for we

March On ?

© 4 January 2014 : william s. peters, sr.

www.iamjustbill.com