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 Jun 2016 Sam Temple
GaryFairy
it's hard to believe what I have seen
in the steeples, they fill the seats
claiming to love the most and the least
they leave church and their love fleets

these creatures are just killing machines
seemingly demons of in between
people sleeping in deceiving dreams
never seeing what Jesus means

self-appointed reapers for the beast
grievous destroyers of the peace
driving jeeps with a sticker that reads:
we support our troops in the middle east
going to work on this later
Lucid dreaming is the doorway
        to the unconscious.
So dream.
Do not stay closed
        behind cement barricades
        blocking the moon
        from shining.
Live.
Each second is for you.
The tumbling of life
         does not promise
            anything.
In one breath
you can have
        a time table
        handed to you.
A distinct framework
        of how much
        longer you shall be.
Stay in illusion.
Keep in mind
that very little
is worthy of
being screamed about.
Politics
        and
people games
        are not
         the substance
        of existing.
Picture colourful images
         that flutter
          playfully
            across the
           mental horizon.
A traffic light
      will
       blink
red, yellow, green.
A noise
        will dominate
         the shading sky.
These mean nothing.
Moments of distraction
        soon
         gone away.
Focus on fantasy.
Allow yourself
the freedom to
         celebrate
        the essence
        of harmony.
When you die,
       it will be
         your dreams
         that are
          remembered.
Breathe.
It's just
      a bad day,
      not a bad life.
They prance and they dance
across my left eye
and leave me wondering why
they're so gay.
"Oh,
pardon me,
do i challenge
your comfort-zone of a school of thought?

Well,
shall we wait
right-f'king-here
as you call yer belovèd Status-Quo police?

Or,
can you be
enough of an adult
to permit such inevitable discrepancies?"
Seems unlikely most'a the time.
Why am i not suprised?
Such a pity.

Quasi-fictitious; yet realistic, withstanding.
Moments will come to pass
Enjoy it while you can
It will soon be just a memory
Remember to take a stand
Be bold and brave
Create your legacy
Inspire others to do their best
Show compassion and integrity
Images and murmurings of my yesterdays
play like color movies inside my head,
Memories of love and adventures,
mixed with some regret.
Of red painted female lips,
Of passion sweating upon the sheets.
Of youth spent folly,
Of chasing Demon ***,
and being drunk for weeks.

Of sail boats on azure seas,
Of palm trees a sway in tropic breeze.
Of brown skinned maidens bare of breast,
Of white sand beaches pristine,
with not a trace of Human print.

Of brilliant blue/green Pacific seas,
Of magnificent underwater reefs,
alive with thousands of aquatic occupants.

Of the songs of Island People ,
never previously known, or heard,
Nay, chants they were instead,
Haunting ancient rhythms,
etched forever upon my soul.

Of lives and places briefly touched,
Of people loved, lost in time,
Of all these remaining indelible images,
within the echoes of my mind.
Reflections of time spent in Fiji,
Tonga and Samoa years ago.
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