Monday, November 14, 2011

Transcend





A vague shadow 
Creating history 
From what left 
Yesterday in the present 
Now, past and into 
Future legacy 
A folding precipice of time
Born in body 
With harlequin hands
Heart on outside 
Eyelids backward 
Buckshots for teeth
Still he,
In meditation,
In thought with 
Thy genius
Freeing ingenuity 
Forgiving the intangible 
Manifested from 
The birth of slave 
To death of lawyer
With well seasoned tongue
coated in bullshit 
Like stepping in bull's shit 
Unbeknownst to me 

The stench                of mystery

      Takes me
           Uses me 
                  Fills me

They say it takes 
One to know 0ne
Well it takes one 
With common sense 
To know none 

Just as the antithesis of wealth
May be intelligence
That doesn't mean we aren't rich 
A pledge to Heaven's Hollywood
The road is paved with stars 
As shallow as a scuttle
Harvesting breadcrumbs
Cash crops for the pocket...




©2011 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.


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23 comments:

Brian Miller said...

ha all it takes is a little common sense and experience enough of stepping in it...though some seen born into it or maybe it is just their profession, politician, ahem...sorry tangented...rich has little to do with money...but eating sure does...

Caty said...

this is impressive...the last two stanzas are terrific

Sheila Moore said...

powerful message, as always, Anthony!

Beachanny said...

Between slavery and the death of a lawyer ...what's left over?? Nothing but bread crumbs. Always uniquely and impressively you! Good work Anthony.

magicinthebackyard said...

"like stepping in bull's shit" lol bravo!!!

http://magicinthebackyard.wordpress.com/2011/11/14/the-widow/

hedgewitch said...

Like the way this wanders between image and declarative, and ends up leaving a double imprint.

lookingforroots said...

Does nothing ever change? I like the beginning - past present future. And I love this: Harvesting breadcrumbs / Cash crops for the pocket. Thought-provoking and well-written.

signed...bkm said...

Very nice..love the Harlquein hands and the common sense to know none....bkm

bajanpoet said...

"With well seasoned tongue
coated in bullshit
Like stepping in bull's shit
Unbeknownst to me

The stench of mystery

Takes me
Uses me
Fills me"

Love the word placement on this piece ...

somewhereamelody said...

Strong, true write as always!
"That doesn't mean we aren't rich
A pledge to Heaven's Hollywood"
Wonderful lines there!

Claudia said...

gosh..you nail it with the last stanza anthony...strong images and powerful voice..again..

Heaven said...

And so it does... your last verse are wonderfully written.

Nick Rolynd said...

Ooh, I like. "From what left/Yesterday in the present" are my favorite lines.

Laurie Kolp said...

Great form and I really like harlequin hands.

Joseph Hesch said...

"Heaven's Hollywood" may be where our real dreams are made. Another blast of image and vinegar, AD.

Beth Winter said...

Love the contrasts, the imagery and the bite. This is powerful and makes for a strong vocal piece.

chromapoesy.com said...

Unbeknownst to me


The stench of mystery


Takes me
Uses me
Fills me
I'm going to be ruminating on those lines for a while, great write as always.

Shashi said...

Hi Anthony

Wonderful... and your word play is lovely...
"Heart on outside
Eyelids backward
Buckshots for teeth"

I could feel the depth of despise in your words... tongue coated with bullshit and then your justification about it... mingled with intelligence... I liked it.

Shashi
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/11/whispers-where-you-will-go.html

beckykilsby said...

This is what grabbed me:

A folding precipice of time
Born in body
With harlequin hands
Heart on outside
Eyelids backward
Buckshots for teeth

..and you didn't let up... much well crafted matter to chew on Anthony..thanks..

kez said...

powerful piece that packed a punch ...thank you x

Samuel Peralta / Semaphore said...

Intriguing. This almost feels like a hymn to the Occupy movement.

Arron Shilling said...

Hey Anthony

This beats out like a rebel drum and I can feel it in my bones from thousands of miles away. A poem John Bonham/Keith Moon could play. Excellent

Poetry of the Day said...

this is really good.