The Paraffin One

2014-10-08 12:00 am

Depressed, never to make lasting impression.
A denizen of hope to never make the finish.
Yet gladly they have made no procession,
A gentleman leaves, not extincting the fish;
Yet, gladly the simple fish onward,
Unrealized is their colony of cowards,
No love and no goal worked toward,
Fools with lofty goals pulled Earthwards,
Nobody cheers as the people awe.
Nobody cares as the people stand jaw slack.
Nobody leers in care as they're not the law,
Nobody fares well, so they want old law back.

However the rulebook of old is lost.
Common sense now too far past is post.

The Sophist

2014-08-20 12:00 am

All that follows may be cheap.
A 'squito bite from a 'siah kiss
No mas, this mass a mess,
'Spose we're 'spose to say we're bless',
Well bless it ought to fess,
A feeling for a million fools,
Is wanton for a prince.
Yet elegant amiss,
Fools dancing on the Sun's drying lips,
As though it were a tryst,
Forcing Cosmos to a fit,
Perhaps the sun is but a tool,
Reflecting light,
Projecting an abyss,
Perhaps there's dimensions we can't see,
We dream beyond 3D,
Yet teach it in our school,
Rest inside to silence screams,
Our origins never will be seen,
Although it would be cool,
All that follows may be cheap.

The Sophist

2014-07-30 12:00 am

Once a me wan't blissing his kings.
One said, "You bring me down fool,
You'll be the next that I fling."
I know not the world, 
But knew he could toss,
He flung fools via sling.
I'm no albatross, 
I thus fear the sea;
Whose direction it faced. 
As a favor for me,
If only poor kings flung us fools to their dreams.
I dream of a land filled with kings being fool-led.
Currying favors for an all-curry feast with warm drinks
 and stale bread.
Instead I packed my bauble knife for that night I fled.
In stead understanding this king was a beast with no
 heart in his head.
Once I peaced though I pissed on his rings.

The Sophist

2014-07-04 12:00 am

He speaks in subterfuge,
He makes myth from animal bones, 
'scribes visions of mothers viewed postnatal,
He calls them "future you".
He claims Caesar's final breath found you.
He sees a subtle use,
And has you build his thrones.
He's too busy to view.
He gives you your fill,
You attack at his illusions,
'til your confusion is ill.

I write folk songs for fools.
Without steps I reach your homes,
Crying disses of another's views most fatal
I call them "false truths",
I hand out bauble knives to the Fountain Youth,
I burn the stable spruce,
And make off with the stones,
I take the dragons too,
I live just to kill,
I attack at your confusion,
Pushing your illusions downhill.

The Sophist

2014-06-25 12:00 am

It all seems fine, but in the contents of Hell,
In the contents of Hell we find ourselves,
In these confines, context reveals,
It all seems fine, take no notice of flaming steel.
False conflicts too real, long to be alone teenaged.
Reconciliation unreal, plans set and are sealed locked.
Fools say both true and false can be nice,
Consistent and lacking of.