In silence, pondering
The lost wonder
Lost innocence of
A life forced into survival
To struggle against those
Sworn to protect
Sworn to represent
Their black hearted betrayal
A mockery of the past
The honored dead mocked
As legacy gives way to ideology
And plot overcomes decency
The barbarians pillage
Rape and murder
As leaders sip champaign
And toast their sedition
Behind walls, they say, are racist edifices
To defend the border but not their interests
Money begets greed
Power begets treason
Drunk on the blood of the innocent
They revel in their intellect
Congratulate their narcissistic agenda
Genocide wets their appetites
As they wage war on humanity
Their dreams of conquest
Warm their psychopathic hearts
Death being their mantra
As they pledge to Luciferic oaths
They burn the world
And cheer the chaos
As a fitting end to
The race called
Man
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Fates Folly
Lost in the images
Doors to different feelings
Different faces
Different futures
Possible futures
Impossible losses to be experienced
Obsession the naked ego
To need everything
Want everything
Only to understand
Fates cruel trick
Fates merciless motive
After a lifetime to give everything, a man could dream of
Only to punish him in the same action
Leaving the choice an unbearable act
The sword of Damocles waiting to drop
You can have one future
But not all
With a blessing comes a curse
Pain with pleasure
A Masochistic moment
Choose your path
But , live with the choice
With love comes pain
Choose your action
Actions have consequences
You will be loved
But you will be hated
The balance will be maintained
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Tundra of the Lonely Soul
I stand in the empty stillness
Alone… yet cold
The promise of the light is there
If temporarily
A promise
Of warmth, of Love , of life
Amongst the silence
Loneliness
A glimmer of hope
Redemption
Though it’s the in-between times
That tortures the soul
In whispers of diabolical words
Deeds
Anguish is conveyed
The mind is a most evil jailer
Punishing my promise
Damning my thoughts
Of what could be
A touch , a caress, a kiss
Of him
Woe my busy mind
My active imagination
My sundered heart
My soul cast to shadows
The shadows of uncertainty
It’s not knowing that is the tormentor
As I dwell there waiting,
Tic… tic…. tic
Alone with the hellscape
Of my bitter worries
As time stretches forward
I’m left to wonder
Is it my foolish pride, my stupid assumptions
Or is it I who is the ultimate fool
As I stand here in the nether gloom
Of my solitary countenance
Contemplating my own mortality
My own insolence
Believing the blessing of peace
Of love
Dwelling here alone
Hoping
Needing
In those empty moments
I dream of her
Only to have my salvation shattered
By the memory of her words
The coldness without her kiss
Those times feel like death
No peace to the heart without love
I see life , but with here
Every activity was just a day you died just a little
A life devoid of love is no life at all.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Echos Of Eden: In The Spaces In-between
Echos of eden
In the garden of discontent
Lost innocence in the electronic spaces
Alone in the spaces between electrons and life
As the transients of the new age suffer unrequited love
Wandering aimlessly, the web of uncertainty
Seeking, searching their golden moments
Instants of connection, moments of solace
Connections of mental communion
Or physical ardor
Alone in the crowd, a soul among many
Wanting, needing …. something
A patriarchal reminisce
A matriarchal memory
Healing that empty cold experience
Or to forget the treasonous moment
And the fact they were abandoned by life
Separated by distances by languages by blood
Realizations become evidence
Evidence becomes clearity
The world is simply a grand illusion
The actual truth is it isn’t really here
At all.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Witless Reflections:The Narcissistic Soul
A question of fidelity
The distance a bulwark against the truth
As a wall erected by her conceit
Hidden secrets, half whispered in silence
Of the lack of information of intimate knowledge
Promises of transparency in the face of stony emptiness
A face, a smile, an image of the past
As few present images are granted
As platinum need apparent
Colored by the petitioning heart
Trepidation ruled my consciousness
As I surmised my worth
A lover? A friend? A lifelong companion?
The drumbeat of my true purpose laid bare
I am the answer to a question, a means to an end
A solution to a dilemma
I’m an unwitting man
Who reached for love
But became a benefactor of a narcissistic soul.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Villain Beneath The Red Mask
Empty words with golden desire
Promised warmth marked cold motivation
Hollow platitudes , for self desire
Truth is in the verbal persuasion
Of Narcissistic need
Hidden among flowery language
And self-serving intent
Gone are the loving attitudes
Promises of future mental intimacy
Accusatory assault replaces warm expectations
The real monster rears its head
Shrugging off the masquerade of care
The mask of compassion
Revealing the true purpose
Fiduciary endeavor , the bitter pill
Money is the need
And, I but a means to an end
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe