Verses.



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mr-bong@blueyonder.co.uk

Patterns of the mind.

Though Nashness would invoke numbers,
Better left inside their cell,
There are patterns in our websites,
There are numbers there as well,
They arent cryptic codes for cluedo,
Or sinuous strings for spies,
But there is an inbuilt pattern,
Hidden from our normal eyes,
And when spiders come a crawling,
Only stopping by perchance to spin,
They take a peek or two inside,
To see what riches lie within,
And what words lie embedded,
Almost invisible to normal sight,
And they create a little web or two,
Whilst we sleep quietly at night,
And awaking we discover soon,
All is not as it was before,
Many more have come knocking,
Many more have found our door,
Just because we took the trouble,
To be precise in subtle ways,
The spiders have discovered,
Whole tables and vast arrays,
Whole worlds they love of logic,
Finely spun numeric strands,
The structure that they love to find,
On which they make out plans,
And categorise, neatly pigeonhole,
And allow us to be found,
So our wares will be famous,
And our name will be renowned,
And instead of scuttling forever,
They pop back all the time,
For they like numeric order,
And they like a timely rhyme,
And they love to browse somewhere,
Where clear thought has gone before,
So now be good to your spiders,
And then youll see spiders all the more.

Omnipotence.

I started with true confidence,
That I could achieve my goals,
That I could effortlessly persuade,
And all would gradually unfold,
Each in its own compartment,
Each growing slow but sure,
Nothing would ever be impossible,
Everything would have its cure,
But suddenly there came obstacles,
Increasingly harder to surmount,
And though I managed to prevail,
I loaded debits on account,
Each truth was a little more effort,
Each needed that bit more to say,
And my imagination started filling,
The little gaps along the way,
But the longer I got used to it,
The more it appeared as normal,
The easier it came quite naturally,
Being circumspect instead of formal,
And the more I went undetected,
The more invulnerable it all felt,
Even the hardest will or heart,
Once I spoke would surely melt,
And the joint between fact and fiction,
Became indistinct and blurred,
Until I couldnt really tell the truth,
Amongst all the other words,
But yet still I seemed almost infallible,
At everything I chose to tackle,
Where fires had turned to embers,
I soon started to make it crackle,
So I very soon assumed myself invincible,
Inviolate, all knowing and wise,
Never even sensing for an instant,
Storm clouds gathering in my skies,
For the many fables I had uttered,
Merely to give everything a boost,
Were like inevitable homing pigeons,
Slowly coming home to roost,
And in truth now I cant remember,
What I said on any given day,
I just decreed what seemed appropriate,
Whatever would suffice to sway,
And though it all seemed justified,
And almost noble at the time,
Now its all come round full circle,
And now its deemed a real crime,
And the peculiar thing is that this time,
When I need to be my most persuasive,
My words ring empty cold and hollow,
Plus my triumphant tones sound evasive.
Though I just assumed that history,
Would scribe my name in runes of fire,
I will simply end up with the epitaph,
Of having been a fool, if not a liar.



The Future.

Out in fallen rubble, all men are in trouble,
Cursed by time near the end of its span,
Far away and alone, it picks out the bones,
That starkly whiten the future of man,
What was written in code so long ago,
In exact and unwavering precision,
Makes a joke of ideas that we need have no fears,
And survival is down to our own decisions.

It will all come to pass, we will suffer en masse,
For the greed and the failure of tears,
To stem the aggression and mindless procession,
Of drugs and of violence for years,
We are but pawns placed on the lawns,
And the Squire is now having his say,
As we turned to weeds through actions and deeds,
He quite easily blew us away.
For all of our might, we are but light,
With storm earthquake and fire to survive,
We fight with ourselves oblivious to hells,
Which are coming to flay us alive,
We have more to fear from closer to here,
When ice floods or lava are bearing down,
Then who will be so tall, for then after all,
Well know who is wearing the crown.

Better now to prepare, be alert and be aware,
To the threats facing all of mankind,
If we stick to our path, then our sure aftermath,
Will be burned and drowned plus blind,
Earth has enough force to ruin our course,
Enough strength to crush us like ants,
Yet we fight one another, never sisters nor brothers,
And decimate all of our plants.
Unless we soon turn, and be willing to learn,
Humble enough to acceed we are to blame,
Then our curtain will fall, on the end of us all,
And no one will remember our name.

From out of this end, man rises again,
And evolves much as he did before,
There is waste and decay, laws slipping away,
Pestilence and death plus war,
Prophets will foretell, at the tolled bell,
It will happen just as I decree,
But they do not guess for what they digress,
Has already happened to you and me,
Time just cycles around, same sights and same sounds,
It all happens from the same old score,
We all know the tune, in our psychic room,
We just dont know the notes any more,
So when they chime, pealing end of time,
Is around the corner from here,
We dont realise, the proof of our eyes,
Or the apocalypse filling our ears.

Lords.

Who are we to think we see
What others never knew
What makes us think were on the brink
In everything we do
What makes us try to reach the sky
And imagine no one tried before
And when superman finally lands
We wont be omnipotent any more.


Freedom of action.

We think that we know the answers
We think that we invent the tunes
We believe that were making progress
Reaching distant moons
We think that we have volition
To do just as we please
But someones pulling the strings
And we do just as they need
Someone thinks us puny
Our strivings just amuse
He sees us merely clumsy
In the methods that we choose
Someone watches over us
Observes our every move
We just merely roll along
And he supplies the grooves.

Who we are.

Clothed in doubt we wander out
And worry over our status
And ill at ease we try to please
And hope that no one hates us
Yet in the end we find our friends
Not by poise accent or breeding
But by giving of our natural selves
To someone who is needing
And the mirrors hang on all our walls
And reflect both you and me
So no matter how glossily we sell ourselves
Thats what all the world will see
No matter how sophisticated the portrait
Or the role it would try to portray
It only stands up to close scrutiny
If the backing doesnt decay.
No amount of glossy tales
Or the illusions that they enact
Can ever be any substitute
Or can hope to complete with fact
No matter how slick the telling
Of the smoothly flowing lines
No matter how well weighed the words
Truth surfaces with time
No matter how complex the illusion
You might project to seem as you
Eventually in the long run
People see what is really true.





Direct Emails mr-bong@blueyonder.co.uk



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