|The P-Papers by Andrew Stergiou
Part I June 5th, 2005
For those with minds life is in need of explanation
Consideration and deliberation
One needs to explain matters in length and breadth
And if what you say is true
For your own sake in this existence
For even prison cells for the most part have dimensions
What diabolical fiend designs prison cells?
In that which can not be defined?
Without more where is it all going?
Does it have shape and form?
As one may suggest
Why issues are truly real issues?
When I raise no such issue
I ask not for such love unconditional
Nor without limits to be doled out
Without consideration of expense
In endless parcels of mail express
So why is all that an issue?
When it is not an issue for me
I never dreamt of having slaves
Nor idol worshiping minions
(Though some offered me such bribes and inducements)
And as I don't want to have you as a slave
Did you make it one for me?
Did you decide foe me? And if so why?
But as we are here, it is a fact
Do you like the fact?
As I wish to leave and I ask where we are are to go:
THAT IS AN ISSUE!
For if we do not act we will stay here
And as such
Do you want to keep things as they are?
Non-threatening, distant not too heavy nor too casual,
Light you are in no hurry to change matters
Nor as fatalistic as I
Nor as you once were you rush no further into them
If not how would you like to change them?
What are you fishing for?
What are you waiting for?
A miracle consisting of white puff
An army walking on water?
Nigh maybe more in some unknown nondescript abyss
As your lips are shut
Of the uncharted waters on unmapped shores in unseen lands
Of planets never visited that you speak of not
In words which you lie even to yourself as you say you'll decide
Youíll decide One day some day Soon Where I donít know
Some day some day soon waiting deciding ranting raving
In what has not been conceiving
As it has been neither defined nor measured in the slightest
As the description which could be all too frightening
As evil as some evil witches brew
In what is sown is what is reaped
As black as night and as sweet as honey
But nigh it is not that either
So what is it and what will it be or become
What is expected? When it is easier said in
Under the moderate influence of spirits
Tried by courts in absentia
Rather than in sobering moments of espresso
Doctor Livingston I presume means Cabernet
Wine means the mythological nectar of the Gods
TheP-Papers Part II June 6, 2005
Crabby cranky tired malingering in writing about the eyes and ewes the pen moved itself
Upon empty pages with glistening modern ink
Rather than thinking to depend in wait on lazy thoughts
Letters words and phrases before the author pronounced them
Appearing as a dunce that can do better than any writer
In a corner with effort many try but few succeed
In what one writes
Balanced as it was "so inadequate" so empty,
Unfulfilled and shallow unworthy devoid of meaning
Related to many things crying tears in rivers
Hidden in the ancient pastry of
Were a million annoyances
Complicated in unforgotten words
Lacking respect foul mouthed and dying was death
Sliding into the depths of some unknown precipice
Callously some cold fingers into a cavern
Hidden in a wall realizing limitations
As strange or stranger as strange can be
Feigning what is no stranger in fear
As most strange to self is neither the sum total nor some part
But strange itself as the essence undiscovered in metaphors
Self centered and fixed in fears
For which tiring there is a beating that is needed
Mad Bitch crying at the moon hidden in the forest
Rather than confront the light
Sullen shaded subtle shadows
Foul mouths stricken vindictively
In what is desired as hate in anger
But never found as such in caring
Universally Copyrighted, All Rights Reserved (copyright 1955-2006 Andrew Stergiou (aka Andreas) use at your own risk, contact for author's consent to fair use (fascists only have rights to drop dead, die, or be killed!)