Step into the Rainbow by Colin R Brookfield (little red riding hood read aloud .TXT) 📖

mind entirely,

but not the one prone to enquiry.

Light to shed and things to find

in darker places of the mind.

 

One’s way will otherwise be blind,

the intrigues of another’s mind.

 

Objective Mind

The phase of man’s objective mind

is displayed by what he leaves behind.

Palæolithic man left scarce a thing

and less, by those pre-dating him.

 

Leaps of time into the future

found man a more creative creature.

His mind through time had grown a tool

to subjugate his world and rule

 

Wilted Dreams

Of fleeting youth that went amiss,

of fancies skipped from that and this,

of idle hopes that flit away,

of wastage mourned in latter day.

 

Some will Make their Mark

Some will make their mark

from what they have within,

whilst others ‘hitch their wagon’

to some others bid to win.

 

Some ‘don’t give a hoot’ for anything

come poverty or fame,

some choose the easy road and fail,

life’s winners then, they blame.

 

Some give time to serving others

that some exploit with no disdain.

Animals to some, are creatures to abuse

though deference to dumb creatures

is the road that others choose.

 

Social Sub-structures

Take a shortcut to nowhere,

get to nowhere very fast,

choose your special nowhere,

the choices, are vast.

 

Decide which one entices

and get the special deal,

get away from somewhere,

somewheres are too real.

 

Shortcuts are a business

for manipulating clients,

even those most circumspect

fall prey to this science.

 

Disinformation is its style,

it keeps the business sound

but of course it’s nothing new

it’s always been around.

 

There’s not a social structure,

not riddled from inception

nor a democratic label,

not more covert in deception.

 

A Young Soldiers Epitaph 1914-1918

With a foe all around, that freely marauders,

and limbs that refused to take his mind’s orders,

was a youth; with mind shocked to the edge of its borders.

Mud past his ankles in a foul smelling trench;

parched lips and throat, that no water could quench.

Field glasses only yesterday

brought the enemy so near,

many, quite as young as he;

their faces mirroring his fear.

And then it crossed his mind;

how many men on either side

were hounded till they volunteered

for a muddy trench in which to hide.

He remembered his home village,

a quiet and friendly place:

oh, how it soured at the break of war,

when he was labelled with disgrace.

He could see the bands still playing

and the posters everywhere,

and those that he’d respected,

that began to point and glare,

saying "Listen to me lad,

stay civilian if you dare,

and we will turn your life

into a living nightmare."

 

His liberty was signed away that day,

a liberty already lost,

to find himself with the game recruits,

that had no vision of the cost.

 

His thoughts stopped there,

and none came later:

All that marked his place,

was an ugly smoking crater.

 

 

A young soldier left the trenches,

and very soon was back

to the village where he used to live,

where they turned his good name black.

His mother’s cottage door stood open,

lots of people were inside,

and as he walked among them,

he heard their whisperings that lied.

"We shall miss him very much

he gave us so much pride

but why did he make the sacrifice,

to fight with soldiers side by side?"

 

A frown appeared upon his face,

for not a single one

had raised a head towards him,

as he put down his pack and gun.

 

His sad mother’s eyes stared through him,

as though he were not there:

the truth then dawned upon him;

it was more than he could bear.

 

Come on Jack, said a voice from the door,

there’s only heartbreak for you here

and turning round, saw a dear old friend,

who’d lost his life more than a year.

 

As they wandered out the gateway,

the old friend told the boy,

You have happiness and peace ahead,

that no-one can destroy.

 

Footnote:

Behind status, age and gender,

hide some so smugly safe,

with hearts that are not tender.

These charnel house purveyors,

from sidelines safely prattle;

driving others to unwanted battle.

 

Limbo Thoughts

A stranded thought, that were it so,

such thought alone is thought misspent,

a fruit left withered on the vine.

But thought that shared convictions force,

not stranded and immobile lies,

a union instead, whereby merit may,

its own momentum thus occasion.

 

Filial Blindness

Filial blindness kith and kin,

darker secrets kept within,

truth can touch a tender zone

when it arrives too close to home.

 

The Mischief Maker

The mischief maker

spreads the unjust guilt

to make advantage

in their favour tilt.

 

Fifty Voices

Fifty voices in accord

Fifty different reasons.

 

Nature’s Fruit

All those on Nature’s fruit that feeds,

is expected they attend her needs,

whilst all attend to this provision,

Nature makes no price revision.

 

Homo Proselytiser

A concept comes from an unknown place,

displays itself metaphysically in space.

 

A mind that acts to this suggestion

with probity not felt in question,

will systemise through its neurology

and interface its physiology.

 

Thus from a process introspective

abstracts manifest themselves objective.

 

He Neither Felt nor Cared

Swans collected in their hundred

upon the country mere,

autumn’s sun was weakening,

soon winter would be here.

Then without a warning,

a hunter from the shore

squeezed the trigger of his rifle:

a swan knew life, no more.

 

It lay upon the waters,

its head beneath a wing,

all the others crowded ‘round it

and did the selfsame thing.

 

So the hunter with the rifle

took a life he could have spared,

inflicting pain upon the rest

and neither felt nor cared.

 

Apologist

A protection from the real

through the unreal,

an avoidance

with which others have to deal.

 

Sometimes Consciously, Sometimes Not

Fallen demi-gods abound

in their cerebral seas,

the ‘mark of Cain’ upon them

through ways that they malfease.

 

Convictions are the seabed

they drop their anchors in,

specious ones are quicksands

from there the drifts begin.

 

These hazards in cerebral seas

with perfidious Stygian crews,

pirates of the inner waters

with wider ones to choose.

 

But these are only abstracts,

and abstracts that aren’t shared

are but hazards to their owners,

nothing else could be impaired.

 

But abstracts seek expression

in a wider sense

and manifest objective

converting thoughts into events.

 

Thus the tenuous Æolian seas

fall prey to the stygian crews

to maraud the wide objective world

for victims to abuse.

 

Priorities

Minds dimmed self-fettered light

unspurred to compass bright around,

and what prioritised, be deemed as less

to its fading shadowed edge is found.

 

Conscience Hath Its Dues

Think well the wounds to others giving,

for conscience keeps these wounds reliving.

Before the eyes past sins there hanging,

like chimeras in a dream haranguing.

 

Refractory Material

Young minds by older ones are moulded

to foster or curtail the potential there enfolded.

Eventually these minds are to their owners ceded

as refractory material, that to reshaping stay unheeded.

 

The Last Smile

Whilst looking at things in the way that they’re not,

the things that they are will not be forgot,

For the things that they’re not, may work for a while,

but the things that they are will have the last smile.

 

The Pendant Way

Stepping down whilst others sleep

into the caverns dark and deep,

where stars are not the ones we knew

nor moon that bathes the unknown view.

 

Where clouds we’ve known have never crept

upon this place and then have wept,

where music is the unknown tune,

its words the unremembered rune.

 

Fickle too, the way it wings

to hidden places, nameless things.

Upon the knowing, darkness smiles

despite its all uncovered wiles,

but shadows growl with all their might

‘pon those that enter cowed in fright.

 

Chimeras though, must earn their keep

that their appetites remain replete,

but the spectre of the darkness flees

when dawn’s contrary lights it sees,

to their hidden places they repair

or lose their charge as never there,

and come those eastern rising rays

the feet that came, retread their ways.

 

Then, those that must, in that diurnal bright

will make of it, a more infernal light,

and thus the pendant moon in sequence brings

that they re-meet of vengeful somniatory things.

 

Honey Pot Syndrome

There are very many bees

preferring different honey

with interests not upon

the type that’s sweet and runny.

 

There’s varied kinds of honey pots

not difficult to find,

though bees that seek to sample

mustn’t show they’re so inclined.

 

For a reason that’s unique

to every single bee

some will only rarely taste

whilst others fill with glee.

 

This leaves one to concede

that bees that do such roving

are something other than they seem

masqueraded in bees’ clothing.

 

Parallax

Separate views from separate places

falsifying Cynosures placement in the sky,

Cynosure in dextra and sinistra places,

Predetermined minds conditioning the eye.

 

Gambit

White knights of mythology

and nannied ideology,

the endless stream of deity

and its reliant laity.

 

Expected ones to purge our sin,

where on earth did this begin?

ideas designed for going wrong

on earth indeed is where they’re from.

 

Such second party intervention

is misdirecting our attention,

for what we do is what we are,

no White Knight comes from afar.

 

White Knights come from within,

that is where they’ve always been,

we also have a Black Knight

for harrying the White.

 

You and I control the two,

Black or White; it’s up to you.

Knights are often in disguise,

we therefore need discerning eyes.

 

But in the end we have free will,

deciding on the one to kill.

 

Whilst Minds Remain Adjunctive

Nature has her arsenal,

weapons of all kind,

for harrying her progeny,

lest they slip behind.

 

We owe a debt of gratitude

to her weapons - dog and cat,

and all the other carnivores

through time, kept skilled and fat.

 

They were major players

in shaping evolution,

Nature’s heresy of numbers

received their contribution.

 

Quality control, also was a feature,

encouraging the best to thrive,

those that didn’t make the grade

were seldom sanctioned to survive.

 

Carnivores had more to add

for they supplied the fear,

giving all intelligence

an evolutionary steer.

 

Nature’s creatures of the wild,

lest they became defunctive,

were performing to Her larger plan,

whilst minds remained adjunctive.

 

Had Nature never cleaned her stable,

plumped for short term woolly notions,

life’s varieties and qualities

would have suffered poison potions.

 

All forms of life are brief,

thus all are short time thinkers,

whilst Nature on the other hand

is not hindered by such blinkers.

Now should another plan arrive,

not of Nature’s derivation,

She’d simply watch it fall apart,

then re-affirm administration.

 

Door Openers

The good, bad and the careless,

a combination that’s relentless;

It is every nation’s mixture

at every level is this picture.

 

Wherever good gains upper hand,

a fatal flaw works to disband,

it edges order into grief,

whilst unconscious its mischief.

 

Only good see some in fellowkind,

excuse their sins for peace of mind.

Innocuous though they may seem,

their history is short of gleam.

 

Unending does such view bedevil,

social fabrics at every level.

Those with such unbalanced view,

their inner virtue they undo.

 

Door openers their historic roll,

exploiters, passports to their goal.

Karl Marx had unbalanced view,

Millions followed, bad empires grew.

 

Such concepts grounded in emotion,

is toying with a dangerous notion.

 

Counterfeit Reason

Hubris covert, sometimes not,

diverse in type and needs,

endemic to its species

on which it mainly feeds.

 

Covets creatures things or both,

incomplete when its alone,

for Monarchs without subjects

sit upon a futile throne.

 

Self apotheosis has both

large and lesser kinds,

though congruence with ability

elects the niche it finds.

 

Insinuation is its stratagem

when it feigns respectability,

the ingenuously blind oblige

their part in culpability.

 

Useful Tools

Faith in things not rationalised,

products of the mind unwise.

Keeping myths and faiths abrewing

follows history’s road to ruin.

 

Myth and faiths are “stock in trade”,

useful tools at the despot’s aid,

for tyranny doth constant leer

through history both far and near.

 

Aposteriori

Looking back in time two hundred years,

they had some strange uncivilised ideas.

But they looked back and did the same,

each generation makes this claim.

 

When our todays are yesteryears,

‘twill be the time our turn appears.

Thus a common and recurring theme

that time and change does not redeem.

 

This natural affinity for curious premises,

turns cause into folly and effect into nemesis.

 

These events are symptomatic

of a penchant for delusion

where cause and effect is deemed

an unwarranted intrusion.

 

Man’s psychology is littered

with these cloisters of futility,

whose antecedence claim the future

as a pawn for its utility.

 

The Covert Jungle

The creatures of the jungle

where everything is real,

nothing has delusions

lest it becomes a meal.

 

But, some forsook the real world,

they brought the jungle too,

dressed it in illusions

to project a better view.

 

Tailored their delusions

to cover every aspect,

every one contributed

even those most circumspect.

 

Some became so far detached

in victimising truth,

that error was their champion

more red in claw and tooth.

 

Then delusion had decided

that goodness was inherent

and the predatory were products

of the disciplining parent.

 

So the predator was treated

as though it were the prey

and the jungle held its breath

at the dawning of this day.

 

No Hyenas to be ravening,

now they were treated kind,

compassion shown to predators

makes them disinclined.

 

This act of transformation

for compassion to awaken,

made Hyenas very happy

that delusion was mistaken.

 

The years rolled into decades,

trouble didn’t shrink; it grew,

nurtured by delusion

that couldn’t change its view.

 

Repositories of Heart and Mind

Like attracts to like,

each to their own kind,

fraternal inward-looking worlds,

self attendingly aligned.

Thus congeries of minute worlds

on the macrocosmic face,

repositories of heart and mind

in a manufactured place.

 

The World to Which we Repair

Touch not our thoughts or our ideas

nor clutter your paradigm into our ears.

The shutters are up to stifle the flow

and keep out the voice that disturbs status quo.

 

We have our worlds to which we repair,

try bringing the real world to us if you dare.

 

Images of Deceit

Every image from the past can be deceitful,

each one has many functions it fulfils,

for images through time have many masters,

gaining potency derived from managed skills.

 

Images are used for swaying nations,

collectivising thoughts for channelled flow,

such images express a specious promise

and demand returns exceeding quid quo pro.

 

When Reality has Died

Nothing that’s within, is what