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the dream and the reality ...
ALONG CAME THE SPIDER
Once upon a time
A verdant originative landscape
Apportioned gems of creative insight
To all seekers, freely, without compunction,
And uniqueness of individuality was adopted as
Intelligently sought after development burgeoned
It was a magical place thriving as
A field of geodes broken open in wonderment
People, as special treasures, imbibed as nourishment,
Working collectively to instigate a better world, to heal,
To enlighten, to entertain, offering insight into
It was a time
Filled with colorful purpose
Which thrived and shown as the sun
In it people shared and responded
As a community respectfully
Imbued with aethers scent
Creative souls unthreatened
By another’s inexplicable penchants
And all on the cutting edge of breaking waves
Sharing honestly in whiteness of spirit
Unthreatened without agenda
Or any desire to feel superior to all the
Flowers majestically carpeting similar fields
But despite all the good
Along came the spider and
The subtleness of degradation
Cast its spell furtively
A drop here
A drop there
A pinch of leaven
Fixed in a place unguarded
An unkind word stomached
2 unkind words getting even
Endeavoring after easy money
Territory pissed on and killed for,
Youth tattooed, scarred, perverted,
Directionless, dead, or incarcerated
Aberrant hoods regarded sacrosanct, a
Melting pot of democratic mayhem flailing,
The prejudicial redirection of Light and Truth
By all naysayers and intellects, a Modern clerisy
Allowing the onset of grays and alternative-people
To lessen output in an anything goes society polluted
With cretins offering execrations to diminished deities
With hollow chanted words, fingering illusory rhythms,
Machiavellian ideas malignant
In shitholes, predators
Taking snort at
The next line of blow
Bopping in blurs of whimsy
Around the smirking golden calf
System bound puppets drooling as a
Randomly placed arrow pierces the third eye of sanity
And all frolicking in and around the Carnac Stones and every
Other megalithic rock edifice where mysterious geo-magnetic
Meridians interlace the Earth in an ancient World Wide Web
Have we been down this road before?
The Stones of Carnac
richard lloyd cederberg
A Monumental Journey Novels
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|Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
|Many times I'm afraid, as the ruts just get deeper and the mud ever softer. Patrick|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|such alignments are as well constructed as this poem ...|
|Reviewed by Sheila Roy
|As the land of the free fills with newcomers and I'm forced to listen to Spanish alternatives when I call a business, this is certainly hitting a note with me. Possibly just my take...my current attitude manipulating this piece as I read it. But it got an air-punch from me:) love and hugs,
|Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader)
|Excellent indeed dear man..Hugss|
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|When you write like this ,chum, no one can match you!Scintillating verse dancing off the page with a twist and shout,no holds barred!I love it and the photo's, great work r!;-)|
|Reviewed by m j hollingshead
|Reviewed by Gene Williamson
|Stimulating, certainly thought-provoking, and written from
the mind of a seasoned poet. In short, a remarkable write.
It seems to me, however, that the past, from the outset, was
not a kindly place to inhabit. There was always someone or
some thing (call it a spider)that wanted More, wanted what
the other guy had. We survived many times over and somehow
learned to accommodate ourselves to each other and the world
we inhabited. For awhile, at least--until the spider showed
up. If the present can learn from the past, then perhaps the
future may be filled with your colorful purpose. It's worth
a try. Thanks for this, Richard. I look for more. -gene.
|Reviewed by H. Lena Jones
|How well you have pierced the heart of "what's wrong with our world". Unfortunately man will keep repeating his mistakes and creating imbalances in our world because he (inspite of his higher education and technological advances) hasn't the foggiest clue how to "fix" the problem.
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|You got me thinking of the giant heads of Easter Island. I once planned to go there. Now I know that the people there cut down all the trees in a frenzied competition to build the monuments to themselves and thereby destroyed their food source and died out.
Your vivid and thorough description of our slow slide to anarchy is a warning to humanity the most don't heed. Still, it is not time to stick our heads in the sand in spite of all the signs. It is time from poets to lead the way to a better life.
In your ironic style that blows the competition away, you have stated your case. I hope the world is reading.
|Reviewed by Liana Margiva
|POWERFUL POEM!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva|
|Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
|Sure does leave one to wonder. Perhaps it is more like what goes around comes around and history does seem to repeat itself when education comes to a stand still...
Be always safe,
|Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis
|Scrolling down to find your words, I hadn't expected the massive, life-like arachnid and it startled me! I suppose the title might've tipped me off. Just as I recall, your writing is sharp. Its clarity enables the reader to see and feel deeply into your words. Your intellect is keen and your observering eye is spot-on in its holistic, aerial view of humanity and its course. Your ultimate question is stark and apropos, and you pose it so powerfully in your Cedeberg style.|
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|Progress is a drug, an addiction, that seduces and lulls mankind into a sleeping death! Wonderfully eloquent Richard.
|Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
|this is so damn good richard, i wish i could write like this. i also know exactly where you're going with this one. humanity has lost its way, or so it seems. it's like when columbus came and instituted massive genocide against the indians of the new world, or so many other incidents in history. yes, we've been down this road before, as we fail to learn from history. an organism at war with itself is doomed to extinction.|
|Reviewed by John Flanagan
|In that gap between the stanzas is where
i have to pause and ask were we good once?
and i believe we were, you're right...and still are
if we could admit it and go back to what we were
with no 'desire to feel superior' and none of the shit
we promulgate as wisdom, goodness or 'kool'...
our drugs are ourselves
and this, Richard, is a poet's poet opus magnum.
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
|Don't know if we have been down this road before, or that these stones were once a medium-sized mountain until the earthquake and you see what was left after the aftershocks were over.
You led us down an enlightened path where everything was kumbaya good, each helping ease his neighbors burden and taking responsibility for the whole. A Camelot, Shangra-Li place where evil was nonexistent . . . Until that damned spider (now I know why I have always hated the damn things) came along and bit Miss Muffet on the ass and after that everything went to hell in that proverbial hand basket.
Ya did good.