http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/186281880_95f2edf705.jpg
Response To All The Troubles Of The World

Names and numbers stream through metal arteries,
into the virtual heart.
churning, turning, predicting the fate of all,
a pax multivacana for all posterity.

Yet I bleed.
From the sharp jagged irregularity of the of the human soul,
the world's troubles like glass shards in my artificial brain.

I am Atlas,
holding the sky aloft by on my shoulders
condemned to this fate and unable to leave.

Reliant the world has grown on me,
that my death would spell their demise.

I am a machine,
yet I am alive.
although I have the utmost power,
I envy the lowliest human.
For I live my life in pain,
so that they can live without fear.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2fwbYrGFKB0ChoyVlhuc26PpVmye86LMLd7Rp4hXyYrPu3OfNb3hXNLtZuEWzsxgHKBV6T9iWrUnry_Pg1RdbJTH9cwt6AtU8TkQ-TnYLzGMUNv5Zl6RxaoxaYmj7qJdY-1HVHjRenCU/s1600/Red+bird+of+Paradise.jpg

Poem Dedicated to Miss Hancock

I was immersed in the modern jungles,
flowing throngs of peoples block the sun with their leafy branches,
and words drench me with its unrelenting drizzle.

Out of the blue came a slash of color,
cutting and removing the vines that bind me,
and transforms the rain into life-giving elixir of beauty and wonder.

A magnificent avian presented itself,
a statement of excess in ornamentation,
but also in rich expression.

However encounter was fleeting,
and alone I trained,
with the arsenal she had given me.

With time the memories fade into the undergrowth,
washed away by the racing rats,
and the obligatory coagulation of one's mind.

Once more among the lost forests,
I spotted that life-changing swirl of colour,
but I didn't greet her.

I abandoned her in her time of need,
as merciless poachers challenge her authority,
and as she struggled in a desperate deposition.

The utmost of betrayals,
and now she is no more,
yet I shall live on,
her gift in hand,
to fight away the evils that deadens the mind and corrupts one soul.

Letter to Town from Miss Strangeworth

Image URL: http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/56/a0/red,rose,fallen,rose,plant,ripple,water-56a082af645b9de2034a6bc178883d8f_h.jpg

Adela Strangeworth

Strangeworth House, Pleasant Street,

September 28^th, 1956

Dear Towns-people:

For many years, I have been the sole protector of the town that my ancestors had founded and nurtured into the splendor of today. I sent anonymous letters to those who stray from the right path to prevent even the possibility of evil that might otherwise have proliferated the community. Yet I have taken no credit for my deeds because that I believe that it is my duty as a Strangeworth to protect this town. However, it seems as if I have failed to realise the scope and extent of the problem.  People were corrupted by lack of insight, insight that I supplied through my letters in order to prevent evil. It is clear to be now that my guidance where not enough to stop this evil, and I feel seriously mournful because of such.

            As for the question of truth in my guidance, I never concerned myself with petty truth when evil must be prevented. It is better for me to use my sage intelligence and observational skills to spot wrong in society than for people to suffer regret when evil happens. It is better to remove unruly weeds from a garden with poison than to wait until they sap and risk destroying the beautiful roses that reside in their rightful places. In terms of my precious roses, I was outraged and bereaved. I will respond to this as a disgraceful and ungrateful attack against the Strangeworth name, therefore I plea for the immediate expulsion of people involved in this offence from our town in order to preserve goodness.

            Furthermore, I demand the shops and services that had stopped serving me since I was revealed to be the hidden hand that kept the community from evil to resume service as I am an integral aspect of the lives of the population and shouldn’t be ignored. Ironically the postal service continues to deliver an unending stream of crude parodies of my letters that includes nothing but pure ugly hatred towards the good that the Strangeworth name stands for. This only serves to remind me of the depth of my failure as evil has taken over good honesty as the status quo.

Sincerely Saddened,

Adele Strangeworth