Poetry Blogs (Deception)
Devon Brock on no more the demanding sound of his snapping fingers (1 hour ago)
An Ode to The Puppeteers
Your marionettes, so nimble, so well known.
The show's real cool when that fat lady sings
Those moody blues to mellow toned trombones.
But tell us, who is it who pulls the strings?
The Quiz-Master with twinkling eyes, smiles sweet.
He tells us, we could win the million prize.
That honey coloured blond is baking cakes.
The treacle tart looks good enough to eat.
Saturday 18th May 2019 11:44 am
Dark are these times the world's gone mad,
Its all gonna end soon and I'm kinda glad,
As I sit here alone in a state of isolation,
The world has been deceived in a sea of indoctrination,
Oh how we've been lied to on a scale so grand,
It's hard to comprehend so let me help you understand,
MK Ultra, Paperclip, Nine-Eleven and Blue-beam,
There's so much deception that it feels like dream,
Tuesday 15th January 2019 7:50 am
The monster digs it's claws in tight
I can't escape it, with all my might
I want to run away or hide
But today, with you, I stand to fight
The dark won't win, only light
I can feel the thread, moving my limbs
Like a puppeteer is pulling the strings
I see myself saying and doing these things
As the pied pipers' flute continues to sing
The voices that speak so clearly to me
Try to chan...
Thursday 30th August 2018 12:51 pm
All my life I've been used like a weapon
Being aimed, knocked and drawn, facing friendly fire
Little seeds being planted by words and feelings
Anything to which your twisted minds desire
Manipulating me until I'm alone and disconnected
Cutting loose all ties, that know your true nature
Because now you know that is the only thing that'll save ya
You don't realise that I do not need the ...
Thursday 30th August 2018 12:13 pm
Black ink black made mood
seasonally adjusted by pen
of poets and men
Monday 25th April 2016 12:26 am
Passing through the house
all curtains open
lit up against the night
let the people see what you want them to
Curating the moments so carefully
frazzled walkers returning from the fields
of the character you created
A sensual, sought, bright mind
the answer, a home
to any lost soul…
Close-up on that round face
painted, pained, so pe...
Sunday 18th January 2015 12:34 am
Flash of a camera.
Shot from a gun.
Click, a distant finger
Exposes the truth,
That you would have buried
Amongst the bodies in the sand.
Rolled over with aggressive force
So no trace could be left
Just red truth seeping into
The mouth of the thirsty beaten ground
Who will excrete the lies
Too hard to digest.
Deceitful coloured vomit
Is left on your h...
Tuesday 5th June 2012 4:44 pm
elongated strands of blue
box-clipped peacocks fan
tea and cakes were all home-made -
there was a snake
i saw him
curving through a glade
into a bubbling stream
when we were vaguely one
though you were always distant
i waited till you got me home
one day I...
Thursday 2nd June 2011 8:05 pm