Ther Vine Keeper

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Tuesday, January 7, 2014

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

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.

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
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
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
and absorb this gift
of consciousness
for i may never witness this

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.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

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.