Reflections..

 Flames dance ,reflections on the tarp wall,

Up and down they flow, little wisps of orange,

Squiggly worms and tongues,

Lit like pine needles floating down,

The sky remains alit, an  orange glow to the horizon,

Doughy and hopeless wanders our lives,

To be dead in a crackle, by a nuclear lamp,

We all... just Moths to the flames,

Singed bodies and doughy dead float down,

The river , no longer for water...

Fire inside is thirst, so intense,

Water cannot quench it,

Decayed souls elsewhere,

They dance to the tune of our deaths,

In this fire pit, Moths ,People all die,

The same end to us all !

Poem by Pc-3( 09/08/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: Re-reading fiction again

SPRKS IN CSF: Re-reading fiction again:  I am re- reading older books of fiction, so I can may be find ways to navigate life , without living in the presence of reality now . It ge...

Re-reading fiction again

 I am re- reading older books of fiction, so I can may be find ways to navigate life , without living in the presence of reality now . It gets me to just create a fantasy land that is more tolerable . I am now started re- reading ' the god of small things ; drawn to it after reading somewhere about the author.

My thought is, it gives me a pre-view sense for viewing the current realities as it gives me the awareness that similar things had been weathered in the past , by so many , and many came out un-scathed .Makes me wonder how my parents managed the news and changes in their time, how my grandparents managed it  in the uncertain tumultuous times that happened in  their lifetime . They all seemed to have navigated the uncertainties and did enough to impact the  political climate  in their own times , without crumbling, and seemingly without washing away their ethical beliefs... some times at a cost  as I recall where others questioned some of the losses due to sticking with honor and ethics . I have to say that those stories did have  an impact , hence I cannot forgo my principles either. 

so I choose fiction where fantasy may seem easier than this inability , the inability to do more for standing up to the tyrannical drama...  Reality that is a drama played out daily, occurring cyclically, blown in with the dawn each day...

by Pc-3 ( 08/31/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: Public Health

SPRKS IN CSF: Public Health:  I want my raw camel milk now, so I grow stronger .. I  can stand up to you Brucella,  Laugh in your  face , oh learned health... I glow and...

Public Health

 I want my raw camel milk now, so I grow stronger ..

I  can stand up to you Brucella,

 Laugh in your  face , oh learned health...

I glow and dance with you, undulant beautiful fevers,

Yey to me again, again  and yet again .. all you waeklings' who bow to pasteuer, 

Dare you to do what we did  centuries ago...all so natural 

But then again who decides what is health...

You measly public, just go with  raw eggs too,

If you live , you do , oh that short grandly healthy life... may be

So Short ... so who indeed  need any public health , 

Who needs health , for you the public, all weaklings...

Demise of my great life will never be bowing to Pasteuer or any such..

I run with the new Gods, so off you go to your puny sciences...

Ps:

Thoughts and prayers as usual , for the death of health , of public health..

Let the public enjoy lead and toxins  along with all the beautiful immune building cocci and bacilli.

 As they strive to breathe, to keep body with breath together...

As soul-less gods paint with the ever beautiful hogwash...

Poem by PC-3 (08/28/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: Words

SPRKS IN CSF: Words:  Words , they clasp meanings , un-knoweth to some, Deep in their souls, in words... there perchance knowledge rests, Yet lost to some ,their...

Words

 Words , they clasp meanings , un-knoweth to some,

Deep in their souls, in words... there perchance knowledge rests,

Yet lost to some ,theirs  just knowledge envy,

Darkness , theirs in the depths and spewing out,

Thus clouded the earth, the universe...

Withers away  to empty vacuous-ness...

Diction- wording, dictionary-vessel for words,

Truth, veracity...may be just words, maybe more,

Maybe more to some , may be to those with truth and honor in the souls...

Dictator- may be one who has diction, may just be one tyrant ,diction less,

May be  greedy with power, but in  vacuum,

Lost a chance to be gods, could have been if many eons ago,

Lost chance, so now just empty souls and greed for power,

Simply a tyrant, a despot ... to follow all those other  dictators ,

No chance for eternal life or some prayers to thee , like Gods , sadly...

Poem by Pc-3 (08/13/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: Japan-images, fuzzy yet may be clear

SPRKS IN CSF: Japan-images, fuzzy yet may be clear: As the dawn creeps along on the tail of fading darkness, I lay somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Some images come floating by again....

SPRKS IN CSF: Riding into the death

SPRKS IN CSF: Riding into the death:  The thunderstorm rolls in, slow , Oh methodic nature, Yes, nature at its best... Dark clouds -a shroud, sunlight peeking out ,  Lightning d...

Riding into the death

 The thunderstorm rolls in, slow , Oh methodic nature,

Yes, nature at its best...

Dark clouds -a shroud, sunlight peeking out , 

Lightning dance in the sky,

Booms  the thunder, closer,

Closer  it closes in, slow or fast its choice..

Power's  gone out , 

Time for candles , maybe,

May be its best to hide beside the shadows, 

Quiet...quietly riding into the death!

May be hide with the dark, all silent,

Maybe so... quietly ride into the death ,

Nature take over please, easier for us ,

Be gentle with our silent souls ,a bit,

As we quietly ride into our death , silent thus...

Poem by Pc-3 (07/30/2025)

GHOSTS

 The evening's slanted rays weaved their humid haze into tendrils . In those  ghostly wisps were memories that never got made...

Those stray shell casings that had dented time in a corridor , they had robbed the memories along with the lives that never even had a chance  for a grasp at life, nor for the memories to ever  form.

The pain that jostles  one awake in the ungodly hours of the night, just pulsates with the perpetuity of loss.

In the golden godly hours Robes deemed Bump stocks legal; in the corridors of virtue ,the shell casings stayed empty for they were emptied on life...lost lives... Still the Robes glistened in the gaslight, as they always did , may be more glowing with all that halo of power. There is consistency  in that glow of power.

Yet the memories could never form, they never stood a chance , never could they form from an erased life... 'Tragedy' the word lost its meaning when life itself became a caricature, of all the forms in us , of us , of humans , of the whole that could not even be .

However the  Robes , they changed forms, shapes, styles ,hue  and the gaslight added an edge of omniscience to those  robes.

Here in wandered the little ghosts, on the wispy rays of  the sun that sneaked in through a window , through some slanted shutters that failed to close out the light fully...They came in there and sat in the pews where sounds of a negation echoed , negation of their lost lives, negation of their 'being', as were their rights to being were dissected ,rarified and rendered into words. They do wander , wondering if any one will  remember or  ever take note , like so many ghosts who wander the land  on a ray of hope  in the mist, will you even know they exist?

The shell casings spew out more ghosts as bump stocks connect to its destiny, a destiny of destruction...

As shell casings rain on decimating even a small hope for life, all to evanescence into ghosts, ghost we are to be...

Just like those shell casings  echoes of  the gasping democracy mix in with the ghosts who wander here , as these robes swish and out comes  luminous words in the burning air as the gas lights glow bright again...

short story by Pc-3 ( 06/16/2024)

SPRKS IN CSF: student

SPRKS IN CSF: student: During dinner my eighth grader who usually do not like to read had a comment "I like Harry potter" He has been reading Harry potte...

student

During dinner my eighth grader who usually do not like to read had a comment "I like Harry potter" He has been reading Harry potter and the order of the Phoenix this summer. 

My quizzical look got him talking more... "Harry potter and the order of the Phoenix is like America "

It made me wonder if his education is all going in the wrong direction. May be reading is not good for him , especially it is clearly   ' too dangerous'  for his mind now . Better that he stop all this nonsense called reading fiction... may be it will stop the nonsense called learning ,growth .

Then there is math, all numbers and such , there is no stretching the clarity there , or take various sciences... they are all too much facts , not good for a young mind . I have to consider very specific curriculums, and take him out of the stupid school he goes to... and the library , another dangerous place where he gets to read all that science garbage . His growth is going too wild now, better be safe  when it comes to my son. He has  so much curiosity, that need to be directed away from all this science, learning and what not...

short story by Pc-3 (07/12/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: Three religions... The three monotheistic religio...

SPRKS IN CSF:  Three religions... The three monotheistic religio...:  Three religions...  The three monotheistic religions had started  their life in a region that had held human thoughts in where they all bre...

SPRKS IN CSF: The Day after tomorrow

SPRKS IN CSF: The Day after tomorrow: I saw this today once again and realized  its relevance today... I even wonder now if I saw our 'todays' ,which  was  a future from ...

The Day after tomorrow

I saw this today once again and realized  its relevance today... I even wonder now if I saw our 'todays' ,which  was  a future from when I first wrote this - I feel it was almost a premonition  of times from  , so far back . Hence I am posting it again...

 Yesterday I dreamt of the coming of spring,
Birds singing in the trees,
And flowers dancing in the sun;
     Today, I wake, and go to work.
 Carry my day in routines,
      Tomorrow I balk and stare,
  Into the day after,
  The day after tomorrow, I see,
   I see the future,
   I see it all crumble and shift,
   All my future children,
   Crumble into civilization's demise,
I see the day after tomorrow,
Rising into oblivion;
All life and time glide and lurch away,
All into the great oblivion, oblivious all still...
Into the day after tomorrows...
 

(poem by Pc3--01/30/2017)

I  post this again, as it seems so apt for our todays and tomorrows

SPRKS IN CSF: Anon

SPRKS IN CSF: Anon:  I read many by Anon... once my mind drew up the greatest writer- Anon, So many verses, so many stories , all by the great Anon, Today '...

Anon

 I read many by Anon... once my mind drew up the greatest writer- Anon,

So many verses, so many stories , all by the great Anon,

Today 'a - non' drives the world , criminal dreams of some non, 

On a whim from golden seats, a drawl here, a draw there,

Here there everywhere, but to where... this one is no great Anon, 

Just one gathering  criminals , may be for his ministries,

Just gathering , rolling in greed, unclear if a fart or a farthing ,

Both the hue of greed and hate , brain waves maybe always  slow waves,

Noise  never can equate to music, always lacks quality... noise-lost for all melody ,

A  non can never be an Anon ever , try as might with all might...

A poem by  Pc-3 ( 06/11/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: Anon

SPRKS IN CSF: Anon:  I read many by Anon... once my mind drew up the greatest writer- Anon, So many verses, so many stories , all by the great Anon, Today '...

SPRKS IN CSF: Pardons-for sale?

SPRKS IN CSF: Pardons-for sale?: Supreme court tolls loud, but who are you , To give a right to defile , God's own temple? Who indeed to get numbers up  , then again for...