Silent Shadows

In silent darkness, a gentle embrace frees the world from doubt;
Broad daylight showcases a freakish nature that reminds the world of abnormality.
Birds of prey, and delicious fowl, chastise each other with progressive modernism.
Carnivorous beasts devour the meat of a confusing set of circumstances.
With all the answers echoed by parrots of blind-eyed pirates,
Certain adamance in the face of bloody reality, blatantly contradicts reason.


In one corner of existence, a grandmother prunes her prize lilies;
Still another grandmother crushes the sweetest dates one has ever tasted;
Astonished by where and why their souls have crossed,
yet another grandmother smiles as she kneads her delicious bread once again.
These lovely ladies, who will never see or meet each other,
Greet each other with impeccable manners.
One would be a fool to expect any less.
Lifetimes apart, they meet in the spirit-world,
they share with one another how softly they touched their beloved grandchildren. My God… the pride that beams is blinding.


Contemporary wisdom demands that we renounce the archaic shackles of the dead.
Young eyes miss the cracks in a mirror that was broken 10,000 years ago.
We all have masters, my dear…
Whom do you serve?
To seek righteousness is not to claim it as your own.
Erroneous behavior may have dubious effects on credibility;
contrary to relativist philosophy, not all creeds are wrong.
Truth is not always a matter of interpretive performance;
Though, over-zealous proselytizing seems to bring out the worst in humanity.


Today’s Amphitheatres throw more than men to ravenous lions;
The unwitting throng of spectators is taunted by the greatest illusion ever preformed:
The rise of a middle class.
In the fantasy of their allusions, they imagine a fabled equality;
They fool themselves into an unconscious servitude to make life bearable.
Woefully, the helpless shake their heads at elitist prestidigitation.


The eyes of a wild and lonely quail cry long-lost tears on its yellow tail.
This lovely game bird has no concept of value for itself.
As the hunter corners this simple animal, it becomes self-aware;
Too late to contravene common-sense, the bird is caged.
It’s a shame that such a majestic creature is loved only for its yellow tail;
The quality of its soul is never debated,
But its uses are quite handy.
So why did that bird continue to forage in dangerous lands?


Explicit and subtle,
kisses of lovers enflame extraordinary jealousy;
When touches of love turn to poison,
Hate seduces much like romance,
And all to no end,
and to no avail.


The world is indeed a strange place.