The Silence
written by: Jack T. Pennington
In the silence
telepathic
seen and unseen
are linked
douth unto those
of whom have dared
cross the brink.
Meditation in thoughts
our own thing
with no name,
roots entangled
in the search for water,
the elixir to life
the momentum
of what must thrive.
The Exodus of Nature
written by: Jack T. Pennington
Upon the shores of fisherman
red in the face
due to not just the sun,
but promises undone.
Unions broken,
waves of emotion
sunk ships of hope.
Tears were salty stinging reminders of the past,
white hot blasts
that erased life
and now one had no diction
for the word “thrive”.
Energy is dangerous in the hands of thumbs up likers of all,
excess the access
to wisdom through the
choice of being dumb.
A mouse is wise
in his crumb
know it’s existence
is a present in this tense.
No border drawn can negate
the negativity you propagate
nature is round
and profound
like a frequency unheard,
deep mysterious
but she is furious.
Your duty to nurture
will know no limit,
magnet adjusted
for all and dusted
we will become
because of an idea
of a kingdom thinking all the while you are the only one.
Political Proxy
Logic is beset by words that follow a set of actions known to be branches set to a tree of knowledge.
Knowledge an experience to function not an illusion; wishing to be reconstructed only to be shown as mere paradox to function.
Our world is ether-connected,
constant experience and knowledge transcribed instantly on a web of flashing lights,
moral fights,
human plights,
dismal political rights,
propaganda frights,
greedy piles,
the jealousy competitive prize,
politicians in actors' disguise,
unclear minds,
non-negotiable ties,
unearthly lies,
to self one of all,
this constantly we deny.
Question why.
Understand the proxy plan.
Thinkers are traders to the clan.
Our lifespan dwindled in confusion,
fusing and conning,
not cunning,
wisdom is adrift,
in our only human gift.
Our magic a hidden hieroglyph,
our love a magical trip, a leap off a cliff, knowing one won't fail to our call;
nurture in nature unto all.
Contradiction a diction a political fiction,
the wanting of friction.
Do away with your cliché's within.
Political proxy,
eye toss thee condensed theory unexperienced,
fierce for power only to pray when on death's tongue you lay, douth you do, too late you wish to share your plate.
No, unto you I do not hate, nor wait for fate, karma or harm on ya' for the truth is not ready for the fool who wishes everyone as a tool.
Bend thy rule in passion
red thought cannot be bought
blue and multi-polar marble erect,
no imperial fallic symbol to overcome your paradoxical thought.
In your own demise I help real eyes realize your disguise, deep down political ties are pitiful even Gilgamesh wrote his poetry to demote your war ridden clones, in your glass homes.
"What it is to be Rich"
written by: Jack Tupac Pennington
Rich in heart
rich in blood
rich in art
rich in the middle of
mud
Rich in health
rich in conscious stealth
rich in knowing thy self
rich in communication
rich in this place within
social stratus
his a civil apparatus
tradition in ownership
selfishness
Known to be prone
to be conditioned as
a clone
a drone
a deaf tone
What it is to be
is knowing only one thing
feeling free is being
no money can make you rich
money is filth
money is still
static
money is loved by the Psychopath
Money runs away from these facts...
"Still There"
written by: Jack Tupac Pennington
Still there coffee
in the air
morning stairs
faces more stares
still who cares
I am still here
still prepared
this place has me
snared
tear torn
social porn
drink from the horn
call of the wild
I gots style
all the while
after so many a while
after so many a trial
still with that wanting to be free
in my mind
here I find
Buying time
time finding
mime
in mine
in ours
seconds, minutes
hours, days
Now never fades
staying in one
place
Ritual never obeys
social case
portrays
relays
connection subjection
mere suggestion
keeps new comers
guessin`
stayers confession
wont had thought
I would stay to
rot
The place where I lay my head is
God
Never forgetting what life
taught
Thinking my spirit shall never be
caught
On this stage one last
prop
Get what I have
got
on this sphere one of many a
spot
Enjoying everything till the last
drop...
"Loyalty"
written by Jack T. Pennington
Being loyal makes your breathing time on this planet royal.
Perhaps mothers' are one star alone but they alone do not brighten the sky
cry
Here it comes,
think,
thought of cast down kings and bums
loyalty to selfishness
keeping in mind you are the only keeper of your own health.
Loyalty to others is staying at their side even when the tide is against you.
Loyalty and trust
is like time and dust
Honor is a must
relation to understanding patience
weeding out traitors
political waiver
group behavior a gesture,
a favor
loyalty is a relationship
flavor
sour at the wrong
hour
but if not had leaving everything ripe turning
sour
the hidden shadow that shall devour
the strongest of power
to it cowards
cower
even hatred can help to not build a fortress
or tower
to keep one from the wrath of
loyalty not had leading all away on a path not easily forgiven past
straight to hell
moving fast
devils, demons, destroyers onto you I demand you force their hand
for one grain of sand does not make land
deny their existence that very place where they stand
loyalty is the royalty
in me, myself, and eye
steady hands pry
old hearts cry
loyalty in thyself
shall never die
loyalty unto others is a lie
the answer to man's question of why
a controlled trick by which he shall die
"Life's Escalations"
written by Jack T. Pennington
Mad doesn't describe the skull and cross bone images that scribe one's tomb
life's escalations
your flirt with death's
expectations
we could have found a solution
compromised a resolution
but that doesn't fit
this years social institution
because fuck having intuition
life learning skills its about consuming expensive thrills
and when you gotta problem
take five of those stay alive pills
so you, can go on
havin' expensive thrills
you helpin' the politicians with easy kills
making followers drills
tactic
for educations practice
trained synaptic
the fact is
far away or just way to fuckin' distracted to give a shit anyway
ooh the games humans play
don't fuckin complain
the truth is hideous stain
nobody wants to give it
fame
Life's escalations may have delayed us
but it makes us trust us
thinking towards a future
somewhere not far
symbiotic would be is perhaps a Utopian
collapse
a hidden stance
one fucking instance
of thought that shit that can't be bought
taught
but gone unfaught makes critical thought...an item waiting to be porducted and and baught by the oldies who got caught
not showing feelings
feeling things
and telling others not to be
weeping
while they keep keeping
blind humans trying to
inspire others to keep
seeing...
This Won`t Be the Last
written by Jack T. Pennington
This won`t be the last not the first this verse and many more are here to emplore us of words as swords to slay
the dragons that want you to want and you think you have, but its an illusion at best it is what ever you guess this is just logic spun from a spider that eats fire. The first time is a lie, the last is a gas that can be passed. There are no facts. Do what do do because being is not the same as Sleeping! Awake you yourself in self you will find all the wealth. Money, paper, plastic, gold, silver, all used to
gain something thrown away turned to dust and sprinkled over the very food you need to trust. Radiation isn`t just spread over one nation expect the unexpected we can squat the fucking moon! Take out blood of earth, dust of death, time of space, spirit of face and she will swallow us whole. Destroy egos mother of our nature for we share not ths lofty lot, no , we plot to take over, theorize a controller. No big picture here just lots of fear we are further from ourselves as near to civilization in creation or some sub-mental Masterbation. No, no this is a material manifestation optimistic Materialization of devision of all, a label to help us loose trust in metaphysical formation in ourselves, our dreams are meant to be more than what they seem. A feeling has more worth as Communication than all the idealism created for brain rape, for it is as unique as a sunrise or sunset to be appreciated in all ist glory a part of every story inwards and outwards infinately.
Pain
written by Jack T. Pennington
Whats there to
explain
we got our reasons to
complain
lookin for others to
blame
wantin change
thinkin we playin
a game
nothin new still we want
fame
to smile and feel
tame
the hurt still
remain
not dead just stronger
holdin on a bit longer
through doin wrong
know whats proper
they look and stare
come in my trap and
get snared and scared
pain its there
always prepared
cause someone
dared
step over that line
and time
came and went
but I am still bent
out of shape
bein real to the
fake
King to the snake
wisdom in the name
stealin fate
breakin hate
Doin it with my trade
in death we fade
just another human trait
Pain is nothing and
still great
Meaning in movement
Pain
Keeps healing in the game
water in the rain
life in frame
and
living that can
sustain
"Its all in a Handshake"
written by Jack T. Pennington
When we are happy to
see each other we hug
one another whether
sister or brother
when business doeth a
long breath our hand
are solemn away pointed
under our breast
as if in action against
the coming test.
When enemy in front of
stomach holding gut having
to have guts to touch
palm upwards perhaps a pull
all to lull a false
picture or draw a fist
for sure
A kiss or flurry of
them like doves
climbing the skies
all whence with
glittery twinkle eyes
even where love lies
in these midst it tries.
Its all in a handshake
even though that is
primitive and truly a
mistake passing of hands
like money, an idealism
standing for something
fake.
Wonder what I am, the copy test man, into your consciousness I plunge and whence read you understand that I am not only in your head.
"No need for a shield, because dragons, in this day and age don't breathe fire; only fake words. Dragons don't attack they throw paper money at your soul."