“Destiny Sings Its Return” (A Poem)

by Martin Anton Smith

It Rises From The Black Abyss

No One Knows What It Is

Or From Which Void It Appeared

But It’s Mission Is Just


And You Sense It’s Fair

A Voice Inside Your Head Says

“I Am Looking For You”

Is That The Beast Or a Saviour?


It Circles The Skies & Lands

Its Tasks Are Due Today

It’s Looking for the Walking Dead

As It Approaches You From Above


From a Hazy Distance

You Ask Yourself

Am I The One?

The Answer Becomes Clear


The Beast Has Called Your Name

As the Beast Closes Its Jaws

It’s The Last Thing You Hear

A Crisp Clear Cracking Of Your Skull


But This Is Just The Beginning

For Your Life Was But a Shadow

Of a Hidden Realm All Around

Now You’re Finally a Soul Again


It’s a Sinking Sombre Feeling

That Your Life Was But A Joke

So Nothing Came Of Nothing

Under Your Friend The Beasts Yolk


Hiding In Your Inhuman Cocoon

You’ve Played The Wrong Hand

All Too Cool & Now Your Dead

Destiny Sings Its Return

“Earth The Darkness & Us”

Poem By Martin Anton Smth martinantonsmith@gmail.com

Earth Is an Inflation Of A Degradation,

Long Separated From Eden

The Inhabitants Forgot About It Entirely

They Worshipped The Degradation

As If It Was The Supreme Utopia

Rather Than The Slice Of Darkness It is.

In Doing So They Embraced The Darkness

Rather Than Resisting & Denouncing It

They Forgot Who They Were

And Became The Actors Of Lucifers Scripts

They Only Saw Their Mistakes

When They Met Their Maker

Oh How Surprised They Were

To Realise They’d Been Tricked

& Had Lived a Lie.

All For Lucifers Wicked Pleasure

The True Believers Weren’t So Stupid at All.

“Bread Wine & Shows”

by Martin Anton Smith

How Did They Make Slavery Legal?

They Gave Them Some Pocket Money

Reduced Their Hours

Gave Them A Couple of Weeks Off A Year

Allowed Them A “Weekend”

& Just Like The Ancient Roman Caesers’

Oiled Them

Pacified them

Distracted Them

With “Bread Wine & Shows”

And Finally

Like A Retired Roman Centurian

Who Had Now Done His One-Score Stint

They Allowed Them A Very Slim Chance

To Escape Their Bonded Servitude

Then In The 19th Century They Ditched The Term “Slavery”

Then Relabelled & Exchanged It

For the Word “Employee”

But Among The Shadowy Slave Masters

That Have Always Ruled This Un-Hallowed Orb

It’s Simply Called

“Sustainable Slavery”

But They Couldn’t Have Done It Without Us

Sleepwalking Down the Aisles & Amphitheaters

& Into The Bloody Colosseums

& We Did It All

For Just A Few

Crumbs Drops & Laughs

Of Those Three Hypnotising Secret Agents

“Bread, Wine, & Shows”

Woe Is We

The Eternally Hoodwinked Masses

We’ve Lasted Through The Ages

Fed With ‘More Of The Same’

Yes It’s True

Nothing Really Changes

In This Roman Empire

That We Still Call Home.

“Animal Food” (A Poem)

by Martin Anton Smith

Very Few People Will Ever Listen To You


Even Less Will Listen To Those


Who Have Something To Say


If You Have Nothing To Say


But Offer a Banquet


Of ‘Animal Food’


People Will Cram The Halls

And Gorge Themselves Silly


And Call You A ‘Genius’.

This Sir and Maddam

Is Our Planet

Earth

But I Ask You This:

What Did We Do Wrong..

To End Up Here?

Isn’t This A Fair Question?.

“Placeholder Buffoons” (A Poem)

by M A Smith

Living In A Daze

May Seem like Fun

But At Some Point

You’ll Face A Leadership Challenge

And Then Your Daze Will Expire

& A New Daze Will Begin

You Will Be Exiled With

Oodles Of Taxpayers Cash

And A Knighthood To Boot

These Are Presents

From The Bloodless Ones

To You

Oh, My Homely Actor

Thankyou Kindly

For Agreeing To Fill A Slot

And Go Through The Motions

Of The Pantomime

That Is

The Westminster Parliamentary System

Thanks Again

Don’t Call Us

We Will Call You

If Ever We Are Short

Of Placeholder Buffoons

& Silver-Plated Balloons.

Oh What’s That You Say?

Why Didn’t I Talk Of Uncle Sam?

Well, He Gets His Own Poem

As A Poet

Gentlemanly or Otherwise

Should Never

Mix His Drinks Or His Empires.

As It Always Leads to Regret

Humanity 101: When You Are Afraid Of What You Are & Why You’re Here (A Poem)

Why do we human beings on Earth recoil from what life is really about?

We were made to be more than animals, yet most do not see this.

We are worth more than chasing the social hierarchy slots & storing wealth like a squirrel does acorns.

Why do we concentrate on that that will not last over that that will?

Why will most of us never learn? Why do we fear to care about why we are here?

After all we’ve been through, why do we lack so much courage?

Is it because we fear the darkness in others or is it that we have embraced it in ourselves?

It makes no sense to cling to nothingness yet that’s what we do.

Isn’t It’s a scary thought to know you are trapped in an ego you can’t shake?

What is wisdom?

What is love?

Would you know it if you saw it?

Or would you reject it?

What’s behind the appearances of this world?

Are you afraid to think of these matters?

If you did, would you gain wisdom & know what Universal Love is?

Would your crippling neurosis’ all but melt away?

Why embrace your fears & stay living as an animal does?

There’s no winning in that.

Yet you fail to see that that is what you are doing.

Dare you release the shackles of conformity?

And find out why & what you’re here for?

It’s a Risk to attempt this,

But even more of a Risk to stay as you are.

A Clueless Animal,

Circling with madness,

Held in a cage,

That you’re blind to see.

Yet The Door Is Ajar

“Percy McWhirter: On the Margins Of Life?” (A Poem)

by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

Percy McWhirter Opened the Album

The Picture Was Rare

& Yes He Still Has His Hair!

What Has He Done?

This Lonely Bum,

To Have This Life,

Stocked With ‘Invisible Strife’

———–

He Has An Inner Ball

It Lives In His Chest

It Turns Rotates & Seeds

Enfolding Un-sprung Energy

Into His Private Cosmos

Where The light is still bound

———-

Still Waiting On a Flawed Theory

We Wait & Are Stood Up Again

And After The Grimness Fades

We Seek A New Appointment

We Wait & We Wait & We Wait

And We Are Stood Up Again

Then We Wonder

What’s Wrong With The World?

——-

When Making Life Rhyme

He Sounding Like A Hack

He Beckoned The Blind To Clap

He Gestured The Yellow To Yelp

He Left Their Delusions Unvanquished

And They Rewarded Him Richly

——–

Now An Old Man

His Kid Gloves Are Removed

He Sits By His Fireplace

With A Ledger In His Mind

He Turns His Last Blank Page

Scribbling “Regrets” To the Left

Scratching “Wins” To The Right

He Ponders The list

——–

The Divided Words

Collapse Into The Margins

The Chaff Is Now Separated

Yet The Wheat Seems Strangely Spare

A Creeping Nagging Fearful Feeling

Envelopes His Mind-Body & Soul.

“Have I Wasted My Entire Life?”

——

He Died Clutching The Ledger

They Had to Pry It Off His Hands

He Remained Upright By The Fireplace

& It’s Still Smouldering Coals

His Eyes Were Wide Open,

He Had A Look of Despair

A Fine Funeral Was Held

They Crammed In the Aisles

But Try As I May

I Can’t Remember A Word

Of What Old Percy McWhirter Once Said

( Writers Comment – Thanks For Reading “The Bonus Poem” Poem – The First Of Twenty Twenty Three. Yes It Is Shameless Filler, But It’s Only Function Was to Smash The Dreaded Lurgy – an Affliction If you will – That I have dubbed “The Dreaded Blank Pages In The New Year Syndrome”. It just roles off the tongue. M.A.S 09/01/2023)

(Writer”s Update # 2 – I Massively Updated & Improved The Poem – I’d like to think it is no longer “Filler”. I think Its’s Not Bad For The First Poem Of ’23 M.A.S 10/01/2023)

“Overcoming Early Year Writers’ Inertia & some biographical data & musings about life (a few thoughts about the page & me)

2022 was the second year of published work on this page, & the first full calendar year of posts (The page started posting in Feb 2021).

In order to keep writing during the dry creative spell that naturally occurs during summer (in southern hemisphere) I will write a really easy post about this blog page.

Last year was a good year for this page. The views/hits were up about 30% and the followers up about 50%.

I posted 62 Posts vs 58 in the prior year. Outside the numbers, the highlights of the top of my head were

  • I wrote about 7 short stories & I think I have enough now for an ebook
  • The Poems could also be put into an e-book.
  • I made progress on my Novella “Marcell Atkins the 21st Centuries Brain Chip Hacker” (then half way thru I got into writer’s block as I realised my idea to finish the book was ‘too stock’. But luckily, I think I now have a solution – the main character will turn to ‘the dark side’. This also sounds a bit ‘stock’ but trust me it is less ‘stock’ than the first idea train. So now I must try to finish that remaining 20 000 words or roughly 10 chapters. I’m dreading finishing it. I’m afraid that it’s really really crap. But I must force myself to finish it anyway. I’ll go by the adage “All turds can be polished, and today’s turd may be tomorrows fertilizer”.
  • I wrote a few good songs some were derived from some of the poems, although some were from scratch. This page isn’t a music page, but I thought I’d mention that.
  • The podcast associated with this page was fun, but traffic slowed to a crawl. I think this is because the podcast platform was free & I was supposed to “upgrade to a paid plan” but I didn’t. Or it was to “Whack” and so people dropped off listening. Either way it was great to start a podcast & I have almost hit 50 Episodes (I think we are at Ep 48).
  • Regarding my writing – I am wondering if my depressive ways are a positive or a negative. That dark cloud hovers but I fear that I might be making the world a “worse place” for putting darkness onto a page. If the answer is “Yes” then the only right thing to do is delete everything. That would be hard to do. This is why I realised a good strategy is to always add a “silver lining” of sorts to writing. Perhaps that’s enough to save the writing & my sorry ass.
  • I live in a small town where nothing happens. Of course, that can be good – as this can in theory help production of work due to the ‘lack of distractions’ – but after 6 years of being back here I am worried I have become like a giant elephant attached to a tiny peg in the ground. I want a real friend who also likes writing and flinging ideas around. Not being neurotypical it is very hard being surrounded by ‘normal people’ who only want to talk about house prices all the time.
  • You might want to know I am 45 years Old – I guess this makes me ‘young middle aged’ or an ‘old young person’. I think I have reverted to being 27 since the age of 35. Prior to 35 I tried to be ‘Normal’ & have a ‘career’ etc – this resulted in burn-out & my current state of awareness which is to shun that fake world of false material promises. It’s a lonely existence but at least I’m not living in a cubical battery hen room any more wondering why things never come together. I wouldn’t say I’m happy but for a depressive I think I’m happier than I was back then. I think my life is productive in its own way & I am more content. I think I have got to the point where I could in theory attain something really good with my work.
  • My life is now devoid of women & I am like a monk. This is because women around here don’t really like arty types, & there is no women my age who are into the ‘alternative scene’. If there are – they are more likely that not to be ‘flakes’ that are faking creativity. Oh well, just as well I had a vibrant party life when I was in my 20s & 30’s. It’s ok to be shunned into ‘forced romantic retirement’. I can survive & it is better than a series of insane girlfriends.
  • You might not know it but I lived in Australia from 2005-2016 – I returned to my home town & I feel like that old life in Melbourne is like a ghost that haunts me. Not because it was ‘bad’ but because it is an ‘entity’ that still exists in my mind. I miss a handful of people from those years, & I kinda regret not making some ‘smarter moves’ – ones that would have set me up better. I know regrets are bad, & admitting them is worse but that is the truth & truth is important & powerful on the page. Unfortunately, errors & bad choices in anyone’s past, especially while they are inexperienced in life’s ways – happen because they were always going to. An adult must accept learning comes with failure & vice versa. But early mistakes & their first cousin regret still make poor dinner guests – you accept them politely but this doesn’t mean they don’t annoy you & overstay their welcome. These things that annoy us are a part of our sentence as human beings on this planet. I am no different than anyone else.
  • The above point makes me think how ‘individuality’ is kind of a con – ultimately are we not programmed in only a handful of ways? There is a theory that there are only about 20 different types of people. But we like to think we are ‘one in a million’ – it’s an ego thing. Our parents, classmates, teachers & physical environment (for they are the most important) can only screw us up in a few different ways.
  • I spent 11 years of my 44 in Australia – & I feel at least 25% Australian (adding as an aside).
  • I am annoyed I do not get any feedback from viewers of my page – one day someone will email me at martinantonsmith@gmail.com & tell me either my page ‘sucks’ or “is good”. I’d actually be happy if someone messaged me & said my stuff ‘sucks’. It’s better to have you work insulted than totally ignored. Hopefully this year more followers will happen & more work done & more real-world events I will attend & this will happen.
  • You might be interested that my bike rides in the country help me attain well-being enough to have the motivation to write poems etc. I think arty people ignore their health too much as if it is independent of their ability & longevity to create work. No wonder arty types die early – you can’t ever fool your body’s thermodynamic properties – it needs negative entropy supplies to thrive. Being a ‘stick figure clad in black’ is favoured for an artist, followed a distant second by the ‘pudgy dishevelled look’ – but that’s confirmative bullshit. You can look healthy AND do great arty things. (Clive James is an example that springs to mind – he looked like a rugby player & was well known in the 80s – I struggle to think of other ‘healthy looking well known arty types, which underlines my point).
  • as a “P.s.” to the part where I was talking about “ghosts of the past” – I wonder if the people that haunt me are also haunted by me as well? Mutual hanting seems to be a welcomed thought but also pretty sad as it suggests both parties were never mature enough to tie close ends. We humans can’t handle rejection & it corrupts us no ends – we torture ourselves for it. how ridiculous that is. I’m trying to get better at that. Honesty & forgoing ego should be practised as we age. But I guess the question that revolves in my mind – “Am I a good or bad person” won’t die down any time soon. Sigh.
  • Thank you for reading – attached below is a pic of me taken only a day or two ago. Take care & I hope to write something good soon. (Ah it feels good to have written the first content of 2023! I will celebrate with a beer & 90’s Rock. By The way – I wrote a Poem just after I wrote this so this blog entry – so it doing it worked wonders – read it here if you like https://martinantonsmithart.wordpress.com/2023/01/09/percy-mcwhirter-on-the-margins-of-life// )

(Picture: Scruffy Scruffy Me in 2023)

“Deadbeats Lament” (A Poem)

by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

Sorry For Talking While You Were Interrupting

But When Push Comes To Shove You Shove Back

Yes, You Contributed A Lot

But You Took More than You Gave

Leaving Us All With Psychic Negative Equity

————————————

What’s That You Say? It’s Hard To Hear

When My Eardrums Ring A Deadbeats Lament

Am I A Human Or A Programmed Feeling?

But I Ended Up Painting, Not Walking

On That Derelict Ceiling

————————

The Psychiatrist’s Wet Dream That Never Leaves

I’m Surrounded By Kooks I Can’t Rebuff

Many Images Abound Through Broken Glass

My Life’s Full Of Cracks & Don’t Wander Backs

Are These The Unclean Spirits Of Frauds & Hacks?