Painting: "Free At Sea" by DJ Marshall All Images & Text
Copyrighted 2013
"There Once Was, . . . A Sea"
A sea which seemingly beckoned to thee. Sail away on me,
be free at sea. Visions of success, and the anticipation of a
cornucopia of good feelings would float through the mind. One
could hardly wait to raise sail and unwind.
Once at sea,. . . the near beaches seemed to be the place to
be. No longer free at sea, it felt like a tomb, imprisoning the desires,
for the warm bodies, and swim suits, of thee. The beach and warm
bodies would, for sure, be the place to feel free.
The warm bodies aged more and more with each year, a
reminder of the anchors forged by all on those sun filled beaches.
Promises, made by all, would not allow sails to bulge forth with
captured wind.
No longer were any free at sea, . . .nor were the beaches the
places to be. Only anchors clanging behind those who tried to
move forward, . . . and simply attempted to find one reason to
even be, - - - let alone ever dare, the big dare, to be free.
by DJ Marshall
Copyrighted 2013
"There Once Was, . . . A Sea"
A sea which seemingly beckoned to thee. Sail away on me,
be free at sea. Visions of success, and the anticipation of a
cornucopia of good feelings would float through the mind. One
could hardly wait to raise sail and unwind.
Once at sea,. . . the near beaches seemed to be the place to
be. No longer free at sea, it felt like a tomb, imprisoning the desires,
for the warm bodies, and swim suits, of thee. The beach and warm
bodies would, for sure, be the place to feel free.
The warm bodies aged more and more with each year, a
reminder of the anchors forged by all on those sun filled beaches.
Promises, made by all, would not allow sails to bulge forth with
captured wind.
No longer were any free at sea, . . .nor were the beaches the
places to be. Only anchors clanging behind those who tried to
move forward, . . . and simply attempted to find one reason to
even be, - - - let alone ever dare, the big dare, to be free.
by DJ Marshall
Painting: "Hunky Dory" by DJ Marshall
"Hunky Dory . . .?"
I think not, well perhaps the dory - - - though no aspect of
most lives, on, or off the beach. When, . . . when, would all in
society be able to eat a peach?
The lack of equality, and pressure on the downtrodden are
beyond belief, . . . there was no relief in the "Land of The Free". With each passing year, wealthy deceivers, create more and more laws which steal even the possibility of the vision of a beach, let alone the taste of eating a peach.
by DJ Marshall
"Hunky Dory . . .?"
I think not, well perhaps the dory - - - though no aspect of
most lives, on, or off the beach. When, . . . when, would all in
society be able to eat a peach?
The lack of equality, and pressure on the downtrodden are
beyond belief, . . . there was no relief in the "Land of The Free". With each passing year, wealthy deceivers, create more and more laws which steal even the possibility of the vision of a beach, let alone the taste of eating a peach.
by DJ Marshall
Painting: "Boring At The Mooring" by DJ Marshall
"Boring At The Mooring"
A place of safety and refuge, some constantly long for it.
Though, safety, is what causes the mooring, and simply being,
to be so boring. Large amounts of wealth attempt to purchase
the safety of the mooring, . . . as well as to flee the trap of the
boring.
Such conflict pushes back hard, . . . a harshness that tears
apart one's soul. Risks and thrills, insurance and holding back.
The only way to be is to go for it with the last fiber of one's being.
Safety and worry are the thieves of lifetimes. Indeed, thieves of the heart and soul.
One soul declared his solution. I'll tow the mooring behind me
as I go forth. The many declared him crazy and insane. Independent
thought, no matter how innocuous, was always frowned upon. He
was never allowed to live his life at all.
by DJ Marshall
"Boring At The Mooring"
A place of safety and refuge, some constantly long for it.
Though, safety, is what causes the mooring, and simply being,
to be so boring. Large amounts of wealth attempt to purchase
the safety of the mooring, . . . as well as to flee the trap of the
boring.
Such conflict pushes back hard, . . . a harshness that tears
apart one's soul. Risks and thrills, insurance and holding back.
The only way to be is to go for it with the last fiber of one's being.
Safety and worry are the thieves of lifetimes. Indeed, thieves of the heart and soul.
One soul declared his solution. I'll tow the mooring behind me
as I go forth. The many declared him crazy and insane. Independent
thought, no matter how innocuous, was always frowned upon. He
was never allowed to live his life at all.
by DJ Marshall
"Lost Soul" by David Johnson/Pen Name, Prints, hand signed & numbered by the artist DJ Marshall
{The painting "Lost Soul" was used on the cover of the novel, " Fantasies of an Active Mind " available on Amazon.com}
"Lost Souls ?"
A term many tried to use to label those they could not
understand. It has become their last foot hold in this realm
and land. A foot hold formed as a last stand against the ruse
of the wealthy, and partiers with tea, which were oh so
unhealthy for thee.
They will bring the truth and expose the ruse for all to see.
On Bing, on Google, . . . simply look things up. The truth in the
end will be better than drinking honey from a cup. And, soon,
all, not just the few, in society will be living it up.
by DJ Marshall
{The painting "Lost Soul" was used on the cover of the novel, " Fantasies of an Active Mind " available on Amazon.com}
"Lost Souls ?"
A term many tried to use to label those they could not
understand. It has become their last foot hold in this realm
and land. A foot hold formed as a last stand against the ruse
of the wealthy, and partiers with tea, which were oh so
unhealthy for thee.
They will bring the truth and expose the ruse for all to see.
On Bing, on Google, . . . simply look things up. The truth in the
end will be better than drinking honey from a cup. And, soon,
all, not just the few, in society will be living it up.
by DJ Marshall
Painting: "The Blue Bird of Apathy" by DJ Marshall
"The Blue Bird of Apathy"
Once there was a, . . . bird, a Blue Bird you see. It refused
to take action, thinking, they can't make me. Not the forces of
nature, nor those that try to draw me. It was happy to be, . . .in
a pure state of apathy you see.
One brave soul became obsessed with the hope of finding one
less apathetic than he. - - - On a country wide quest, of more than
30 years, he drew on spare napkins the image of thee. A mere
portrait of, "The Blue Bird of Apathy".
From Boston to New Jersey, Wyoming and beyond. To
Saskatchewan, the Yukon, - - - and Alaska he did yawn. Bartenders
posted the napkins with glee, . . . next to the first dollars, over the
cash register you see.
So look for in your travels this icon of apathy. Should you be
so fortunate to find one more apathetic than thee, you will have
found a little piece of me. And that it is so true, - - - how much
more fortunate could one possibly be?!
by DJ Marshall
"The Blue Bird of Apathy"
Once there was a, . . . bird, a Blue Bird you see. It refused
to take action, thinking, they can't make me. Not the forces of
nature, nor those that try to draw me. It was happy to be, . . .in
a pure state of apathy you see.
One brave soul became obsessed with the hope of finding one
less apathetic than he. - - - On a country wide quest, of more than
30 years, he drew on spare napkins the image of thee. A mere
portrait of, "The Blue Bird of Apathy".
From Boston to New Jersey, Wyoming and beyond. To
Saskatchewan, the Yukon, - - - and Alaska he did yawn. Bartenders
posted the napkins with glee, . . . next to the first dollars, over the
cash register you see.
So look for in your travels this icon of apathy. Should you be
so fortunate to find one more apathetic than thee, you will have
found a little piece of me. And that it is so true, - - - how much
more fortunate could one possibly be?!
by DJ Marshall
Painting: "The Black Bird of Apathy" by DJ Marshall
"The Ghost Like Flicker of Black Wings"
In the deep of the woods, where the essence of lives
past often sleep, there are ghost like flickers of black wings.
Wings which can be caught out of the corner of one's eye.
Each step forward on the moist moss, and attempts to form
conclusions in the mind, brings more fluttering and whispers
of black wings.
From the morning dew, clinging on the vines of poison
ivy, - - - to the tops of the mulberry, flickering wings do rise.
Rise with your settling on a perceived truth. With yellow,
sometimes white eyes, the Black Bird of Apathy lands on a
nearby branch, having a forceful inquisitive stare. It turns
its head from side to side, as if to challenge your new found
truths.
As you proceed to take the next step on the damp moss,
the whisper and flutter of wings convinces you - - - that the
truths that fit for the moment, are just as fleeting as the
vision of that black bird. Disappearing, on wing, through
dark and varying shadows of the mind - - - deep in the woods,
where the essence of lives from the past often sleep.
by DJ Marshall
"The Ghost Like Flicker of Black Wings"
In the deep of the woods, where the essence of lives
past often sleep, there are ghost like flickers of black wings.
Wings which can be caught out of the corner of one's eye.
Each step forward on the moist moss, and attempts to form
conclusions in the mind, brings more fluttering and whispers
of black wings.
From the morning dew, clinging on the vines of poison
ivy, - - - to the tops of the mulberry, flickering wings do rise.
Rise with your settling on a perceived truth. With yellow,
sometimes white eyes, the Black Bird of Apathy lands on a
nearby branch, having a forceful inquisitive stare. It turns
its head from side to side, as if to challenge your new found
truths.
As you proceed to take the next step on the damp moss,
the whisper and flutter of wings convinces you - - - that the
truths that fit for the moment, are just as fleeting as the
vision of that black bird. Disappearing, on wing, through
dark and varying shadows of the mind - - - deep in the woods,
where the essence of lives from the past often sleep.
by DJ Marshall
Painting: "The Green Bird of Apathy" by DJ Marshall
"It Is With Great Sadness . . . "
. . . and absolutely no envy from the Green Bird of Apathy,
that I put this forth. To this day humans still, . . . treat the world
environment as something that can produce wealth, not health.
. . . Treat fellow men as if they can be put into classes. If all men are created equal, - - - do you think the classifiers lost their glasses?
. . . Human dignity has no place, many of the wealthy will say
this to your face. They conspire to force one's to give birth, only
to treat the next generation as if they have no worth.
The proof is in the lack of decency and compassion put forth
in education and health. Only, . . . so the very few can maintain
a disgusting level of wealth. Service to the lord remains as phony
as can be. Anyone can see this, even in the eye of the Green Bird
of Apathy.
by DJ Marshall
"It Is With Great Sadness . . . "
. . . and absolutely no envy from the Green Bird of Apathy,
that I put this forth. To this day humans still, . . . treat the world
environment as something that can produce wealth, not health.
. . . Treat fellow men as if they can be put into classes. If all men are created equal, - - - do you think the classifiers lost their glasses?
. . . Human dignity has no place, many of the wealthy will say
this to your face. They conspire to force one's to give birth, only
to treat the next generation as if they have no worth.
The proof is in the lack of decency and compassion put forth
in education and health. Only, . . . so the very few can maintain
a disgusting level of wealth. Service to the lord remains as phony
as can be. Anyone can see this, even in the eye of the Green Bird
of Apathy.
by DJ Marshall
"Red Bird of Apathy" Painting by DJ Marshall
"To Be {a fool} Or Not To Be"
There once was a saying, "Better Dead Than Red". Obviously,
they've never seen nor contemplated "The Red Bird of Apathy" ,
perhaps they only lived in a "Red Voting State" ?
The phrase simply came out as a saying, meant to control the
masses, keep them toiling in degrading servitude, as a lifetime
passes.
In the name of Patriotism, . . . a pile of lies fed to all. The ruse of the
wealthy loaded on the backs of , "We The People."
The list of deceptions in their ruse is long. Odds of rising above
menial paying employment are astronomically long. One has a better chance of being hit by lightening, or winning the lottery, now that's frightening.
And let's not forget, the system is fundamentally designed- - - so
only a few at the top enjoy life, and the system cannot function
with out the minions living below in despair. If it wasn't so sad, it
would be comical, certainly not fair.
Its up to the strong to right these wrongs, and stop the wealthy
from deceiving thee. For , as you can see, the little red bird never
falls for a ruse, and is quite happy to be one of apathy. So, raise the
taxes on the rich as high as before - - - when all had a job and could
go to the grocery store.
If the wealthy and those partying with tea continue to disagree,
don't fall for their ruse. Just point them toward the Rio Grande. Allow
not one to hide, and make sure they stay on the other side.
by DJ Marshall
"To Be {a fool} Or Not To Be"
There once was a saying, "Better Dead Than Red". Obviously,
they've never seen nor contemplated "The Red Bird of Apathy" ,
perhaps they only lived in a "Red Voting State" ?
The phrase simply came out as a saying, meant to control the
masses, keep them toiling in degrading servitude, as a lifetime
passes.
In the name of Patriotism, . . . a pile of lies fed to all. The ruse of the
wealthy loaded on the backs of , "We The People."
The list of deceptions in their ruse is long. Odds of rising above
menial paying employment are astronomically long. One has a better chance of being hit by lightening, or winning the lottery, now that's frightening.
And let's not forget, the system is fundamentally designed- - - so
only a few at the top enjoy life, and the system cannot function
with out the minions living below in despair. If it wasn't so sad, it
would be comical, certainly not fair.
Its up to the strong to right these wrongs, and stop the wealthy
from deceiving thee. For , as you can see, the little red bird never
falls for a ruse, and is quite happy to be one of apathy. So, raise the
taxes on the rich as high as before - - - when all had a job and could
go to the grocery store.
If the wealthy and those partying with tea continue to disagree,
don't fall for their ruse. Just point them toward the Rio Grande. Allow
not one to hide, and make sure they stay on the other side.
by DJ Marshall
"Off To The Bahamas" Painting by DJ Marshall
"Off To The Bahamas", or "The Ugly Truth"
So did the masses all agree, . . . the truth was so ugly, most
could hardly see. They cried, all must gather their wealth - - - and
do whatever they could to flee.
We can not feed the hungry, or put a roof over their head - - - there
are far too many, and the few at the top wished they simply would all drop dead.
Their sails bulged forth, onward to the land who's banks concealed
their loot. Soon they could fondle their cash, hidden from society and their moral due, . . . and now the rest of society could be given the
boot. Even the wisest of owls couldn't seem to give, or come up with
a hoot.
There appeared to no longer be a need, in the minds of the masses,
to house, and stop the abuse of the young, or the elderly, as
time passes. The few felt the smell of their cash, and its feeling on
fingers, would cause the ugly truth to fade, like it had been buried
with a spade. The elderly be damned, the smell of cash is at hand.
Even a child's eye in the Bahamas exposes the truth, one can not
hide, nor run away from the ugly truth.
If this truth causes you pain, the only thing one can do, is create
a new truth, which is less ugly than the one before. Only then can
sails bulge forth, . . . with pleasure for all to adore.
by DJ Marshall
"Off To The Bahamas", or "The Ugly Truth"
So did the masses all agree, . . . the truth was so ugly, most
could hardly see. They cried, all must gather their wealth - - - and
do whatever they could to flee.
We can not feed the hungry, or put a roof over their head - - - there
are far too many, and the few at the top wished they simply would all drop dead.
Their sails bulged forth, onward to the land who's banks concealed
their loot. Soon they could fondle their cash, hidden from society and their moral due, . . . and now the rest of society could be given the
boot. Even the wisest of owls couldn't seem to give, or come up with
a hoot.
There appeared to no longer be a need, in the minds of the masses,
to house, and stop the abuse of the young, or the elderly, as
time passes. The few felt the smell of their cash, and its feeling on
fingers, would cause the ugly truth to fade, like it had been buried
with a spade. The elderly be damned, the smell of cash is at hand.
Even a child's eye in the Bahamas exposes the truth, one can not
hide, nor run away from the ugly truth.
If this truth causes you pain, the only thing one can do, is create
a new truth, which is less ugly than the one before. Only then can
sails bulge forth, . . . with pleasure for all to adore.
by DJ Marshall
"The Bridge" Painting by DJ Marshall
"Its The Bridge"
Has anyone seen the bridge? Its only a bridge, a bridge is just a
bridge by any other name. Simply, depending on the point of reference,
very profound words.
Jim Morrison found his bridge, when he broke on through to the
other side.
Others have been looking for their bridge. "Has anyone seen the
confounded bridge?" Perhaps, its in the realm of "The Houses of The
Holy".
Everyone's bridge is different, in looks, in feel, and in purpose.
A passageway, a place to sit and ponder, . . . an uninspired way to
get to the other side. Without thought, or purpose, a bridge is just
another passage to the other side of no where.
Robert Frost knew this, and his and my bridge was a perfect
peaceful place for ashes to be sprinkled. From there, down stream
- - - to a river, - - - to an ocean, to become perhaps part of some
phosphorescent algae, --- at night, in the Indian Ocean, caught in
the eye of a young child, destined to be the next Mahatma? Having
the memory of something glowing - - - which in turn inspires the ideas
that save humanity. Indeed, a very important passageway---
or simply a way to get to the other side of no where. You decide?
by DJ Marshall
All Images and Text Are Copyrighted 2013
