Mages Of The Mind
by Candida L Eittreim
Friday, February 17, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Dedicated to the ones who by day, play at the art of healing the psyche, and by night terrorize the weak and helpless.
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Daily you sit shuffling papers
offering vacuous smiles at those who trust you to ease their troubled psyches,
Whilst you... you dream endlessly of golf in Carmel.
Sneering behind your mask of compassion
you utter puerile sterile commentary
at the parade of puppets
droning on inanely of their little woes.
Your mind... enraptured by its self-perceived brilliance
wraps itself around the only thing you are capable of seeing
your pseudo- academic posturings
an act of beauty for a febrile mind,
That knows naught of humanity,
nor the meaning of love....
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| Reviewed by Jackie (Micke) Jinks |
3/9/2006 |
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I wouldn't spend one cotton-pickin cent with one of these "pseudo- academic posturers". Whenever I'm in a quandry, I can talk to my God and somehow the resolve is given to me. I DO like the "exposure" this poem brings to us! Blessings -
Micke |
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| Reviewed by Bobbi Duffy |
2/24/2006 |
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I could picture a psychiatrist sitting in his overlarge leather chair, nodding to a patient's soul wrenching utterances but not really hearing a word of the person's real pain. Great imagery and poem!
Bobbi |
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| Reviewed by . ignis |
2/17/2006 |
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These words seem to reflect the way of life of the occult preparing the way of death for ignorant souls. Many scholars in the realm of power that rules this world live concealed lives intermitting the one they allow their victims to observe on the stages where they prepare the doom of their audience that is cluless to the clue of their treacherous play. Words with a bite.
RAge
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