From Where I Stand

Aside

From Where I Stand

From Where I Stand

Tis’ dying that provides spatial opportunities for the living.
And companions that inspire socializing.
Within orange trees and a purple sky, I fly by the waist-side.
From where I stand, I’ll die in vain.

Lend me a scent that magnifies my only tonight.
A daytime fad that doesn’t pass out of fearful sight
Which surrounds cultured crowds and tempts my tendency to bite….
When the name of Karma rings on time and my resistance holds tight; my wings spread in flight.
From where I stand, I’ll deny in pain.

There’s a reason for my hatred towards political signs:
In spite of their constitutional expression, succession leads toward aggression,
And continuation establishes scarce positive alteration.
Playing it safe in Suburbia satisfies the many…..
Challenges sought without fire diminish quickly
Whatever’s right; tis’ wrong to bleed; scars swell in the Sun; I continue to climb.
From where I stand, graves lie in shame.

I remember when we danced for enjoyment.
When you portrayed a heart-filled savior
Now I’m willing to die for an answer to your soulless behavior.
You left me when companionship was most needed:
That’s unforgivable: I know you don’t care,
But Karma’s a bitch, even to godless angels who have pleaded.

My last phone call to my Mema was about you.
And I’ll regret our relationship endlessly.
To the World: Virgins aren’t as innocent….
When they volunteer to blow passionately.
You used me: I hope your teeth catches on his in Cali.
From where I stand, baby dolls comply amongst flames.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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A Dark Knight in Aurora

Aside

A Dark Knight in Aurora          A Dark Knight in Aurora

James, why so serious?
You shed blood, and I’m annoyed.
Because guns, aren’t controlled.
Politics, are for the polls.
James, you are to blame.
For all the pain….a heartless Bane.
James, why so serious?
Dogwoods, meet withering souls.
Because Holden, was misunderstood.
You’re Chapman, in the name of cold.
James, the children cried.
Your hair dyed, and blood was ripe.
Jessica, young and bold.
You shed blood, and Joker’s toll.
Because victims, with innocent pleas.
Screamed, and some aren’t seen.
And law, enforcement seeks, to keep the peace, that you released.
And James, I hope you die.
Like Bane, we seek Bruce Wayne.
Parents, with pictorial signs.
Forever cry, I hope you die.
And Axel, Rod’s alright.
His friends in pain, you are to blame.
James, you made Jamie cry.
His family, was jeopardized.
Because you’re, spastic hands.
Shot many down, in my homeland.
James, why so serious?
You violated, nature’s core.
Families, ruined lives, so wrong, so unkind.
A Dark Knight, in Aurora.
Bore, my heart away.
And James, the hangman complies.
Discrimination, doesn’t apply.
Because James, you don’t as well.
Six year old, silence dwells.
A Dark Knight, in Aurora.
While dogwoods, meet withering souls.
James, why so serious?
You shed blood, and I’m annoyed.
Because guns, aren’t controlled, blood, a Joker’s toll.
Pain, children’s cry’s, James, you are to blame.

Outro: Don’t cry, tonight.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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Sandra D’s Bleeding Osceola’s Flames

Aside

Sandra D’s Bleeding Osceola’s Flames

Sandra D’s Bleeding Osceola’s Flames

The significance of Flowering Dogwoods is essential….
When understanding the absence of a true Seminole.
Not the bitterness transcribed by the setting Sun.
Nor lack of starry nights intertwined with Osceola’s deceased.
‘Tis Hentz’s trees that lie and wait….
For the morn which heals time and creates….
Garnet and gold rings; internal bonds that overturn tears….
And chants of unrelenting survival, unconditional love, and immortal colors that solidify many courageous years.
Renegade’s strides exemplify her truth.
Cries liquefy lullabies she preached in favor of progressive youth.
Shame defines perpetrators who inflicted separation….
While dedication illustrates dying souls exact emancipation.
What are words that rhyme when stones are the only affective weapon?
Maybe soothing medicinal methods that crystallize heartfelt moments, and sentimental lessons?
‘Tis rainwater that erodes our sorrowful past.
‘Tis seething fire that encircles our unconquered future.
‘Tis love-filled memories that provide warmth during winter’s prime.
‘Tis Flowering Dogwood’s blooms that annually whiten streams and provide the shine….
For broken hearts and blackened dreams; her soul is mine.
One son of Adam; one daughter of Eve.
A descendant of Perfection, and three grand-descendants in grief.
We shall carry on, and her legacy is my relief.
Sandra D’s bleeding Osceola’s flames….
And I love her; as do the 83,000 strong.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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