VOTE TO BE TRULY FREE, AND FAILING THAT THEN ACT LIKE TRULY FREE MEN AND WOMEN!

Today, Americans, do your civic and public duty to Vote.

But far more importantly conduct yourself as an honorable and upright Free Man or Free Woman who needs no president, no congress, and no court upon your own best natures

For the Good and Free Man needs no real government to govern and tax him, no master to enslave and rule him, and certainly never a single corrupt criminal to deceive, domineer (domina), manipulate, and debase him.

Vote to be Free of All That, but no matter what happens make sure you become once again free of all that – even if that means you must Overthrow all of that.

Be not a coward, but a Free Man! Be an Actual American…

 

WITHOUT A PLAN

WITHOUT A PLAN
(TO THEIR KNEES)

To their knees the fell men bent
Their manhood sold, their courage spent
To herd, en masse, their movements ran
For of them all, the same demand
That everyone should bow and scrape
To each other, no escape
No Rising High, no better god
Submission’s slave and worldly shod
Their only prayer to king or queen
The present age their only dream
Out of their mouths come feckless oaths
From their hands spring deeds to loathe
No shame, no guilt, and no reform
Repentance laboured, and stillborn
Deceit a crown for cunning heads
Their dawn as dark as creeping dread
Their craft disguised, but inward bred
Their soul’s surmise, that “God is Dead”
To be replaced with urbane art
The bane cum blessing, bitter hearts
Society their altared grave
To seize and offer what they gave
Back to themselves while it will last
Though of rot their bid is cast
For all that man can build and sow
He cannot his redemption grow
He thinks him “Wise Sophisticate”
To lure on Good, himself the bait
He does not know he stinks of Death
To Doom he’s drawn, his own bequest, and
The Physic True who could arrest
Who’d Cure decay within his breast, why
What self-wise man has any truck
With God or Savior when to luck
He trusts his Fortune, built by hand, his
Only Truth that man is man –

That god within – without a Plan.

IN ABSENTIA

IN ABSENTIA

The Courage of the West has failed
Her baser instincts flowered all
Cowardice does now prevail
To reckless seek the servile call

The High Mind of the West is dead
The public rules the Wiser Man
Clamor drowns with fearful dread
The people swoon when tyrants stand

The Sick Heart of the West is ripe
To be grasped in iron grips
By slavish kings, corrupted queens
En-masse it beats, demanded ships

The Lost Soul of the West is held
In graves and chains of government
Shackled like a beast expelled
From hearth and home, forgotten, spent

Prior Wisdom, where are you?
You know what comes, you see this sure
History, you tell us true
The past is future, undemured

Manhood, where do you now lurk?
Subservient to serpent crowns
Truth and Justice – how you lurch
In naked marches to the hounds

Free Men to their “betters” bent
Eager in their fealty sworn
Machines await, infernal sent
Revolt that banner burnt and torn

Honor come not to this land
It is bleak and stained with fear
Dismissed as coin what value can
You hold for men who hold naught dear?

The Courage of the West has sunk
Beneath the Twilight of Our Times
Monsters have arisen thus
The Dawn of Morrow has resigned

I wish that I could say to you
That one man in a million lives
Yet I see no certain clues
I cannot to you such hope give

In absentia of ourselves…

THE ENEMY WHO LEADS YOU

And now for something completely different for First Verse. A political poem.

THE ENEMY WHO LEADS YOU

The enemy who leads you
Stained black with your blood
From poniard to vanguard
His plotting is thrust,
In counsel he’s clever
In Truth he’s foresworn
In trust he is shrewder
In craft than forborne,
His word is his measure
Though never a gauge
His promises guilt-bound
A thrice-gilded cage,
His skill brightly scheming
Adversarial bonds
True allies shall languish
Abandoned anon;

The one who commands you
Is not as you are
His mettle was tempered
A curved scimitar,
The suffering of others
The tyrant’s cold hand
Is given in fealty
To foreign demands,
If seals are thus issued
If agreements are made
The foe who now spends you
Will proffer no aid;

Command is elected
When Free Men take count
But no Virtue is granted
When deception does mount,
A man’s what a man is
Come first in his heart
If contrivance is motive
Then guile is his art –
Be wary of such men
Be warned of their aims
Wrapped in your losses
He’ll yet court his gains,
If you submit to his orders
If complicit in course
Then the Enemy who leads you
Will rule you by force.

THE SORCERER’S TONGUE

THE SORCERER’S TONGUE

The Sorcerer’s tongue an adder crawls
To slither through the hearts of men
A viper coiled in roils of lies
Seduces all with poisoned ends,
The Necromancer of the Age
Raising up deceit and death
From tombs and tomes by ruin lost
Has given form and stirred cold breath,
Enchantments webbed and eldritch spun
Like spiders creep across the mind
So even men who seem themselves
Are slaves to him, enthralled like kine,
Hades vast and oceans deep
Are hidden in his crafty art
The conjured word is as he speaks
A servant dim and set apart,
The warlock’s gloom – bespoken like a spell
Has snared the fool and baited traps
To line the road of Truth along which
Even brave men cannot make their maps,
The Waystaff of the Witch’s word
Has charmed the Wise with venoms dark
Bound in blood men sound in every other way
By sound of him fall all unnerved
Their manhood washed away in flood,
The alchemic base of rank and rot
Has made a potent portion of regret
Yet who still speaks of deeds begot
When dread by sorcery yet abets?
The Witch’s teat, the serpent’s tongue
Eidolons frozen in the soul
Glams and dictums (dicins) doom us all
Who should by wit the Witch atone,
We have fallen all and one
Under shrouds envoked by terms of fraud
Cultic does the lie allure
Guile the noose of little gods,
If we will not soon this wrong dispel
Cut out the tongue that binds us so
Then sorcery shall be our gaol
The price of prison be our soul.

THEY LONG…

They do not long conceal their face
With deceits framed on inner lies
Who seek to promulgate their aims
With patient work and longing sighs,

Their eyes reflective in their heart
Stare dead into the endless void
Of horrors spawned by theories vast
They would see true, not ere avoid,

The softer ones, the powdered plight
Those seeming meek with cunning tongue
Plan long into the moonless night
To write in blood what they’ve begun,

It does not matter that they bow
To Tyrant Chaos and his Reign
It matters only that they grow
The death inside with bitter pain,

‘Ware those long who wrap their face
With endless craft to gild their goals
Within them they have souls erased
They long the same to you enroll.

NEVER

This is a political and social poem about modern man

NEVER

I often wonder in my head
Just how naïve man can be
Especially of the modern kind
Whose ignorance is full and deep

History, replete with clues
As evidence of what will come
Makes no impression on his soul
To theory only he succumbs

A bed he’s built with his own hands
Covered it with wondrous lies
Sheeted it with foolishness
Then pissed it full of dreams at night

Of how he wished the world to be
Though never has it been as such
No matter to him, all will see
Never never mattered much

Reason tells him little now
His every fancy sophistry
Of how his hopes are truly deemed
Though spawned by phantom artistry

A little more, a little less
A tragic tale of absent jests
Nothing gained, and no one left
To even notice his behest (bequest?)

I often wonder in my heart
Just how simple man can be
Modern to his very bones
Object, abject, yet all agree

My how he wished his self-deceit
Could ever be what never was
Just one more time, then all will see
Never never matters much

IF YOU LIKE…

If you like Wyrdwend then you might also like my other blogs:

Launch Port – my business, career, capital, investment, and inventions blog

The Missal – my personal blog

Tome and Tomb – my gaming and hobbies blog

WHERE WERE YOU? – a poem on America

WHERE WERE YOU?

Where were you when the warnings wailed
A’ sleeping senseless in your bed?
Did you see the tyrants born
Or were you by then almost dead?

Did you rise when evil did
To aid the helpless Just and True?
Did you ward the Innocent
Or merely on your duty muse?

When your leaders (servants) took the crown
Did you then revolt like men?
Or did you cower satisfied
That others for you make amends?

What ancient wrongs did drive you on
To finally stand and take your feet?
Or did you bow and genuflect
In your subservience complete?

Why did you fight, why did you roar
Why did you fearless go to war?
Or on your bellies – witless worms
Choose to squirm, by all abhorred?

How did you come to be a slave
Mastered thus, so weak and soft?
Did your chains grow overnight
Or link by link, in forging oft?

Who are you, what will you be
What Champion, or mildly take?
There comes a day when all men must
Within their time decisions make,

Arise My Friends, be Brave Possessed
Comes every Free Man to his test
For if he will he can attest
That in his glory he is dressed,

But if you Free Men will not rise
Of fear and shame you are contrived
If you will bend to be deprived
Then other men shall own (spend) your lives.