A Tale Of Truth Untold

[easyeverett]

A tale of truth
Untold to you
Is simple
Yet concealed
In layers
Of linguistic hue
Which rarely are revealed

The essence
Of inherent soul
Is difficult to find
Within the confines
Of our whole
Or flecks
Of fabric
Inside mind

Truth is illusive
And imbued
With mystery
Now so evolved
Life's primal facts
are often viewed
As enigmatic, unresolved!

Why myth exists
Remains quite clear -
No ambiguity:
The death of death
Would placate fear
And mock mortality

But death is not
An exercise
Of dialectic rote
Conceived by men
Esteemed and wise
Who verily emote

Man’s death
Is fixed finality
Too often misconstrued
As fragments
Of philosophy
Judiciously pursued

Confused
And vexed
Man’s vacant mind,
Compulsively obsessed
With answers
Man
Can never find
Nor
Can they be possessed

Man’s
Enigmatic nature
Bleeds before
truth’s golden horn
But when truth feeds
On fears great needs
Another truth is born

As man
Recorded history
He pondered
And perceived
Compound, profound, complexity
In all
That he believed

Created myth
Formed out of fear
Became reality
Man's truth was but a want
Held dear -
His Need: Mythology

[easyeverett]

These dead men never render Faust or fade
Where only white worm maggots burrow bold.
Intolerant no more of colored shade
While wrapped in raiment silk of amber gold.

No mountain of Olympus are these dead,
They crave no more the master masks once worn;
For they have found forever's fertile bed,
Oblivion, and cannot feel the scorn.

A cradled black sarcophagus dug deep
For alabaster bones eternally -
No angel trumpets blown for their long sleep
Will raise decay up unexpectedly.

Their sins are made immaculate in death;
Yet still offended men can taste their breath.

[easyeverett]

Tamieka was a player
On the stage of every street,
The city was her kingdom
And the city was her beat.
She had a way of walkin'
Which could knock you off your feet;
The lady was a package
Who was totally complete.

A street born queen with velvet
Sheen, she always had a glow.
A righteous sister tall and lean,
The star of every show.
Her blackness was her beauty
And her genius was her flow,
Like honey drips and hits your lips -
The sweetest thing you know.

A mind of magic melded
With a diamond in the rough
Tamieka was an awesome
Force of intellect and tough.
Her empathetic intuition
Could not give enough
Tamieka loved the people
And the people loved her stuff.

She'd get down with the nastiest
Old badass on the block
And do some tens and tens again
While staring just to mock.
To conquer New York City
Just a matter of the clock
'Cause she could win at anything
From Times Square to the docks,

But even those who live quite
Long will still run out of time
So move out of the way New York
And watch this young one climb.
A rarity of poverty -
No drugs, no kids, no crime,
Left everybody waiting
For Tamieka's bells to chime.

A chilly night in ninety-nine
Tamieka walking free
Just feeling good about her life
And what she soon would see.
She saw a homey from the block
And said "Hey Bobby D!"
Then suddenly the dream was gone
In one night's tragedy.

Now Bobby thought Tamieka
would have money for his need
To get connected for a "hit"
'cause habits suffer greed.
He put a gun to this young one,
to steal for drugs his deed;
But shots rang out -
The dream lay dead -
The rats began to feed.



Chorus:

Her blackness was her beauty
And her genius was her flow,
Like honey drips and hits your lips -
The sweetest thing you know.


But even those who live quite
Long will still run out of time
So move out of the way New York
And watch this young one climb.

[Logos]

merged: http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?t=21394

--

[easyeverett]

The moonlight merges with the streetlamp glow
While sparking lust within my youthful frame;
Delightful passions come together so
The glory of our love becomes the flame.

I do believe the memories I keep
Are sanctified as mine, uniquely burned,
Inside the fire when heat excites my sleep
Where every dream and tremble then is turned

To find simplicity in nurtured truth
That flows from natural realities -
Where fertile was the faith we framed in youth
Age frames our faith in false mythologies.

I stand a man, at last, reclaimed by pride,
Inviting life and faith to come inside.