ModPo

Oh, I have tried to laugh the pain away, Let new flames brush my love-springs like a feather. But the old fever seizes me to-day, As sickness grips a soul in wretched weather. I have given up myself to every urge, With not a care of precious powers spent, Have bared my body to the strangest scourge, To soothe and deaden my heart's unhealing rent. But you have torn a nerve out of my frame, A gut that no physician can replace, And reft my life of happiness and aim. Oh what new purpose shall I now embrace? What substance hold, what lovely form pursue, When my thought burns through everything to you?

Trapped in a purgatory of their own conceit…   “The top of the pyramid – the organization is composed of Technologists who only pretend to have power, although they are only actors in the theater of mirrors.   When the mirror is broken they die, because the internal drive of their actions vanishes.”  – Svetislav Basara, The Cyclist Conspiracy Trapped in a purgatory of their own conceit… The web of lies they weave gets tighter and tighter in its deceit until it bottoms out - at a very low frequency - and implodes. It may be just a matter of perception – they can’t undo their wrongs for fear it’d undermine their perceived authority – an authority they think they require to stay in charge. Yet all the while, the more they talk, the more they lie, and the deeper down the hole they go. There’s nothing I need to go back to - nothing to re-litigate - nothing to defend - and certainly nothing to prove to the unworthy. Just wait… just wait and feed them ...

We closet the true face (opposite) We closet the face that frowns with truth It reveals our cheeks and opens our eyes This credit we demand from human sincerity with whole and healthy hearts we frown and mouth with single grossness. Why shouldn’t the world be ignorant in miscalculating all our happiness and joy? Yes, let them see us while we closet the true face. We frown, but o great Satan, our laughter to thee from placid souls descends. We cry, but oh the asphalt is lovely beneath our feet, and short the mile. But let the world remain in ignorance, We closet the true face. We Wear the Mask (original poem) by Paul Laurence Dunbar We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile And mouth with myriad subtleties, Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while      We wear the mask. We smile, but oh great Christ, o...