driving a tempest vault

The raging maelstrom sandstorm like an impenetrable point cloud mist.

Figures appear through the windshield, seem to share the past in a rushed fleeting moment of age, mirth and nostalgia. 

Grounded feathered apparitions silently screaming into the face of a very fierce tempest storm.

immediately they are swallowed up by the malevolent energy of the furore.

Leaving an illusion of ripped anoraks now rippling in the wind, which seemed like wild feather plumage in the eye of a raging storm.

The rag tag feathered men now are completely ingested by circling sand, fog and mist, completely gone but not unseen.

Was One witness to just a brief second of time, perhaps of brute anger and wild vengeance?
A fleating shouted curtain pulled vision or perhaps a perceived dust point cloud entity, within a violent chasm of this wild vaulted abyss storm? 

walk the eyes

I talk to a man, with gaunt dark ring eyes,
flesh falling from his frame, skin and bone is his demise.

He tells me a tale, both happy & very sad,
of times of plenty & times when it all went bad.

His body fails him, his life is a mood,
His taste buds are weakened, he has no desire for food.

he mumbles some words, which he tells to me,
"i remember a time, when I was fat & happy."


QJD 2020

Decide the road

Beyond the night, into the black ,
speaks a voice, that never talks back.

Beyond the light, into the fire,
speaks a voice, filled with desire.

Walk the road, run the mile,
make decisions, hope wont defile.

End the journey, stop insight,
break these shackles or remain & fight?

Fight you must, honorability seek,

Spiritual outcome, pursue being meek. 

QJD 2020

Virus burning bright.

Virus ,virus burning bright, in our cities of the night!
what mortal hand & eye, made thy fearful asymmetry?

Dust to dust full of sand, Unfeeling hollow eyes & hands, 

Manipulative hearts & heads, grasp at money fingers all dead. 

Man the architect of his own demise, is full of deceit & burning rotten lies.

We now await honourability never late, holding out true life at salvations kind gate. 

Northern Bear

The powerful Northern Bear, that now tortures the peaceable & crushes innocent doves,  smashing the passive with its mighty blood dripping claw.
Its a very sad indictment to those White Washed Grave Minders who now lead such a giant of a bear, towards brutalising innocence.
Mindless attacks for the sake of Babylon and her cohorts. For far to long W2GM have you been drinking the blood of the innocent. Beware that the Northern Bear does not now turn its mighty attentions on YOU!!

QJD 2019

Your Silhouette

Touched nights shadow, whilst braving life's storm.

Light brush with mortality, left me melancholy & forlorn.

Arms at my side, palms now spread up towards light.

Does one enter the malevolent beckoning or  stay here & fight?

Turning  now to face the portals of death.

Another go round or does one simply give it a rest?

A day can be as long as the shadow it casts,

you simply need to be standing, for your silhouette to last.

QJD

nature nurture

A rose, my friend, is always a rose,
no matter from whence the soil it grows.

So is it our nature or our nurture,
that determines our stature?

Weeds will always choke the host,
destruction & turmoil is their boast.

A peaceable person is always kind,
No matter the storms, that rage in the mind.

A rose will always grow into a rose,
no matter the soil from whence it grows.

Dont be fooled by those who always blame,
a peaceable nature will tygers try tame.

The real question to life's answers are,
am I a weed or rose, seen from afar?