Master deceiver
With no certain name to be
Soviets and their coding
In a massive espionage
Farewell’s dossier concealed
From their uncovering eyes
But still impending doom
From Cold War era gloom.
Weiss had his wording
Trickery at heart
Deep within his scheming
Game theory so well played
Who could ever know
What happened or not
Uncovering the uncoverable
A fruitless task to start.
Tag: master
Captain Black Gun (day 1371)
Never alone he traveled the Seven seas
In sound and perfect harmony
Like wisdom is a memory
Clear blue days were sanctimony.
For our strong Captain whose sea was his own,
We fought together – bonded right strong,
Aligned was his order at once to every cause,
Slave to the Master, Master of us all.
Lost in distances were clear mountain peaks
Of a land no longer home that we’d set off from,
Wives and lovers we’d taken on who
Intently listened for our great song carrying on.
With strength of a thousand men strong
Our ship broke mooring, the voyage was on.
All hands on deck looked forward, ho!
Minds focused intently on journey begun.
Land became imagination that coo’d our souls
Quietly to sleep, rocking to and fro.
To every morning, as we woke to clear day,
Cheap sailors rations to make us row.
Night to day and dark to dawn,
Feign attempts at moving on.
A sailors dream but lasts two days,
Quickly blown and torn away.
It’s here where brotherhood arises,
Amidst thick fog and setting horizons;
A common quest, through all disguises,
Men! Heave-ho! Booty and prizes!
Aye! To think the lot a mere bunch of sailors?
Ruddy men dancing with nightly fancies!
Whence stopped at port, may the best man win!
Captain Black Gun and his notorious escort.
Tis’ not all easy for the roughest of men
Amidst all deceit lives honesty then,
A Pirate’s code delivered in blood
Rests all accused deep below their judgment plank.
And as time comes for setting on,
Morning awaits, mooring long gone,
For silently creaking we steal away
Locked in our treaty of the great Pirate code.
Off again then, land locked lovers lament,
Open sea and sweet smelling air.
All becomes lost, save the fresh smell
Of a clear sunny day and wind in our hair.
So whenever you hear tell of a sailor’s ship
Sailing through the Seven seas at a magnificent clip,
Think to yourself of Captain Black Gun
And the legend that carries the Pirate code strong.
Burning Learning (day 1293)
You’re not a hero until you’ve carried, tall,
Souls of motherless children upon a back so bent;
Until weather pulls your burning heart,
And swarthes upon unkempt stars.
It’s here that builds a hero’s heart,
To link a master with learning’s start.
For now and then we think we are
Beyond the truth; not quite so far.
Take your truth and run it far,
Relive a thousand lives astart!
But don’t mistake a hero’s heart
For social injustice, as gone so far.
Take your ends and tie them tight!
The ride is long and plenty steep,
And all great wisdom is buried deep.
Get Out (day 1056)
I’m the rock
– Chief –
The Chief hip hop
Let be. Be
The 1-2-3
A hibby-hibby
The riggy rig real.
You. Don’t. Get.
You don’t get on.
The game, the play,
A blind Laid-ay.
Stippin, steppin
The nasty flip flop.
Cause I take,
A la boog.
Boogity wuug
Boogity wuug
Boogity shug wuug
LICK
Cause I’m the Chief.
The Master.
The rock-and-roll
Lock.
My lady,
– Get low –
My laid-ay says so.
And if you don’t,
You wont.
So take your talk,
And. Get. Out.
Dragons Flare (day 898)
Pull together last lights of madness’s laughter
Let lions roar, eagles soar, dragons flare
Left lingering will caution evil’s master
Covering naked sin with melodies gentle subtle layer
And a crying baby reverberating through halls desire
Victorious (day 619)
In all conditions
And the word was met
Out from the distance
Sprung one, and his net
And all through the forest
Then through the seas
Onward to habitats
And into the streets
From that day forth
Set out to the edge
Was the lot and their goals
He was a master
A master at a craft
One that spewed madness
And another out of stress
One that strews happiness
One with regret
For then one became
In his shelter of back trash
A champion of his craft
Living in amongst
The nature he was of
He walked on his coats
His suit heaven felt
His boat in the moor
To which he escaped
After the deed had been done;
Tracked and then captured
Tamed and then toweled
Dried like a mint
For tea was the score
Figure me this
Let me be your sprigot
You insectide of madness
You inhibitor of fleas
What then
Lost in a net of spiritual madness
Taken from all beings
Then figure me that
Standing proud
Was our gallant soldier
Basking in his glory
Basking in his gorgeousness
Waving his flag bloody proud
And smiling
Victorious
Love Me (day 582)
Perhaps it was when I let go of the past
That I stepped out from beneath the cloak
Beneath the warm resting place
So laid out with holy hay to please me
Those days in my memory fill this mind
With confusion and misunderstanding
No matter who I turn to in these days
They know not the turmoil I did feel
Of what I once was a true master
Now I look upon for no more
Not for lack of interest, true it not here
But for a displacement of my desires
I have moved on with passions
Into realms to you unknown
But this hardly make them
Any less of what I harboured inside
Please let me grow now
With the wings that you’ve given me
I’ve loved you for giving me them
Now love me for using them
Patrons (day 535)
We cross the landscape with skilled learning
Master artisans spend hours exemplifying
History teaches the little nuances of technicality
The subtle lines that weave in and out
Outlining [art] history books and large frescoes
That fill the minds of sleeping popes
And battling heroes that grace the walls
Of far off chapels and majestic temples
With sculptures that raise the hair
On the back of your neck as you gaze in wonder
Upward, towards the sky and beating sun
That pluralizes the definition of beauty
Nature, natural landscapes with perspective
And projections who Patrons can feel
They are deserved of glory within
The definition of beauty itself
Standing naked beside the patron saint
Who makes everything make sense.