Hi welcome to DISSENTERS VOICE - I am Pete the Poet I post my poems and those of other poets I like, and info about poets, writers, songwriters etc.
The aim of this blog is to present the reader with works and actions of dissenting voices who expose, for example the psychopathic nature of transnational companies and institutions - to reveal their true nature i.e - non-life.
I am supporter of Peace issues, orgs and people. I explore matters related to the Paranormal, the Afterlife, Mediums and Psychic Healing. I am active in exposing the government and media propaganda and publish counter narratives based on facts and scientific research. We don't need politics or religion, just ourselves - take your personal responsibility and RESIST DEFY AND DO NOT COMPLY
Looking nervously through the trees at you Complicates the way I want to look Walking along wooded paths too Unnerves the way I want to be But it doesn’t need to be this way Though does it? But it seems to be anyway.
Treading on dried out twigs that snap I stride an uneven path, with no map. Skipping over muddy puddles I splash My trouser leg wet with the dripping. My hurry is slowed by muddy softness I am trying to make the right progress.
But the conditions prevent me forging ahead If I lose my balance I will fall instead I’d be sitting in dark and dirty water Not laughing but cursing the course I took I look out for you in warm earnest I don’t want to miss the look of you.
I will persist in the search for you. For no matter what complications arise You are worth every new sunrise In time I will ignore the intrusive trees I will see you in all your glory The very you are meant to be seen.
It is so easy to judge But the thought never enters my mind I prefer to let my compassion take over Understanding and patience I find Is preferable, it leads to inner peace.
I believe that good hearts sometimes Choose poor methods or so it seems I pray that whatever is hurting gets better, All you need is a good progress to catch you, May the dark thoughts exit your mind.
Slay the overthinking let its blood ooze Stab the doubt through the heart, lose The confusion that has dominated Be the phoenix rising up into light May peace, calmness fill your life.
Look at all the lonely houses in rows of sorrow, Waiting, in drizzle and darkness, for a better tomorrow. For some it will never come and they die sitting alone, Some are luckier, they strike gold, no longer on their own.
Like some dismal punishment for a crime they never committed, Sitting in prison lounges, waiting for the ground committal. You’d never know them as you passed them along the street, The lonely souls off to see no one they will never meet.
the music guaranteed to annoy and prevent relaxation I spoke to two lizards who grinned impassively and left without uttering a sound the party music peeled off my remaining peacefulness wrought iron action was needed so I threw up.
The lively party wreaked of pitter patter talk of high principled brows; books were favourite areas of attack obscure authors were a delicacy strange how unknown phrases and ideas suddenly become significant after four glasses of wine after hours of tedium.
In the shape of pretentious pen pushing the hilarious stories are confetti but the shallow drift of conversation is worth defeating I’m here to have a good time.
Standing out in front Caring not of what lies behind Is like taking a dagger By the blade
Pushing it in to the hilt Inside somehow Releasing hot embers every now And again.
Don’t go deep into the need for religion Don’t ride the roller coaster of submission Keep the head high Shoulders straight back
Because you have to try And have it melted down Before it captures you Turns you into a religious clown.
Don’t turn on the taps of gushing Christianity Keep the faith Purify the understanding of spirit By living – breathing – loving.
Sanctifty ye not the eternal flame Don’t cast the love into useless blame Render the lost path of Christian fame An obsolete and reckless game.
For spirit is no picnic – ‘tis no game But we’re all the same You are there to shake the tree of life Give the cross to the devil.
Who invented that? Make all false words Reach into the gloom Make your heart skip to the moon.
For in the skipping You are really living For living is the way Of the eternal spirit.
Take it and ram it down the ideals Of false saints, render the hapless Cosy minded souls an icy blast Remind them love costs the universe an eternity.
Live it love is the second nature That resides in all of us for sure Give it as you walk side by side With the one we k now as Jesus.
Make it as he will give you his hands With the love that spans this world Explore it you become a medium Not enslaved to continuous oblivion.
Wonder at it as your life will enter The final phase in colour in love An eternity dancing its last When the music was nearly over.
The scented shelf fell into a golden levee Strong enough to melt the mind We pranced our hearts out really We asked for more than a drink.
“I’m pretty, but sordid, I think.” But all the words merged in an endless dream Our lives became a constant swim between Reality – make believe – reality again.
Please let me see the sun again Let the words blow away Gazing at the ravine bottom He jumped into a certain space.
Don’t go down the rabbit hole to follow someone’s else’s agenda, stand back from the entrance. Remember you have your plan to follow whole and mighty in its own way, sturdy too.
Keep away from those of persuasion Who do not have your best interests To the fore, but instead want to control, Be not seduced into the fake improbable Keep your distance, be your own person.
Shun those who present charm through lies Get yourself away and give them only smiles Your time is precious and it is your own Plotters want to steal your time, your home They have purposes you would never guess.
Don’t go down the gaping rabbit hole Steel yourself and tell them just to go You don’t need them these planners of doom you have your own life to lead, there’s no room for rabbits who go after your life essence.
Hey there, I am living in a jar Does that mean we are all far Away in some other cupboard In the dark of the closed door? Try as I might I cannot prise It open not without some aid Try as I might I look for some But I can see help it was not made For me – in abject sadness I put aside all notions of escape I continue to live inside this jar I can’t remember how I came here! try as I might the memory has disappeared It’s been scratched from inside my soul I lean upon the glass looking outwards Is this where I pray for a change Have I been waiting for a cue or what? I am on my knees, hands clasped Wishing I was no longer imprisoned Inside my own head where splinters grow From past smashed glass, why don’t they go? I don’t want them they slow my progress They poison my new life, it is not necessary Nor wanted, nor needed nor desired by me. Living in a jar is no picnic It destroys love before it is born And sucks my life until I am worn. Is this compulsory punishment For something I have not even done? No matter for I have punished myself Roughly about a thousand times over. I am not satisfied unless I inflict pain Upon myself in every possible way I take out my heart and slice it into thin Pieces and feed it to the birds and fishes, I take out my brain and chop it into squares Give them to the local dogs home, I take my eyes and squash them. For I no longer need any of these parts Living in a jar. Living in a jar, I can’t talk to anyone And they can’t hear me anyway, There is no phone nor microphone Anyway what can I say living the way I do Away from everyone and everything If I could speak what would I talk about? How I hate living in a jar, no doubt!
Sitting at home listening to old records The almighty thunder gathering Strength
But reggae is soothin’ The dancin’ ‘n’ groovin’ Is slidin’ yo’ back on down Yo’ face the music ‘n’ beat hits you right
Selecting a song listening to old records The crashing storm nears, at lengths
The Blues ‘n’ truckin’ cool Because da rhythm is blue No cotton pickin’ dude Is gonna grab my blues Unless the beat gets you right
Collecting old tunes listening to old records The clattering thunderclaps are almost overhead
The Jazz picks up ‘n’ slides ‘n’ weaves Sax, trumpet, drums and reeds You feeling hot, you gotta trot The sax is blowin’ its nose Got no time to give a pose Because the beat gone done it right.
DISSENTERS VOICE 