Time
Time passes so quickly, but unnoticed, until we’ve neared our three score years and ten,
Hence why we don’t give the thought to certain things that we should have ’till sometime ’round
then.
Yes, it’s sad but true, an oversight that in time we rue, and too often pay for,
And all because of distractions, attractions, that the hallmarks of foolishness bore.
First lost in the folly of youth, then shackled by those misdeeds, or, far too busy,
That is, caught up on pursuits that contribute little, or nothing, arguably.
Seasons of selfishness, petty behaviour — in other words, immaturity,
Moments that later haunt, miserably taunt, things we said or did injuriously.
Yes, discontented, wanting things too quickly, things we don’t need, shouldn’t want at all,
Rushing, striving, clawing, coveting, or just plain pleasure seeking, having a ball.
Often well-fed, adequately clothed and housed, and with all our faculties in tact,
Yet, still unhappy, restless, wanting more, better — oh, how childishly we act.
Such is how we waste precious seasons, moments that could’ve been, days, weeks, months and
years,
Then wonder where the time went, so unwisely spent, hence our regret, sadness and tears.
Yes, instead of living for the moment, unselfishly so, and worthily too,
We simply get sidetracked, lost in our hang-ups, caught up on issues, wrong we pursue.
Time and age have a way of sneaking up on us, hence why each day should be treasured,
And the use of our three score and ten quota carefully and thoughtfully measured.
Time seems long when we’re young — an illusion — for the bulk of our years lies ahead,
But not so when we’re looking back, and then, realizing how quickly those years have fled.
Time and opportunity squandered can lead to regret, sadness, trouble, tears and pain,
And even more so, our misdeeds, which choke and chain, fall on others like acid rain.
Thus, it’s better to guard each day, mind each word, each act, and live with our head held high,
Lest midst our declining years we encounter our worst fears, inwardly sigh or cry.
Yes, time passes so quickly, but unnoticed, ’till we’ve neared our three score years and ten,
And then, we rejoice looking back, or hang our head, the fodder of gossip and pen.
Yes, it’s sad but true, that more often we rue, misspent moments, days, weeks, months and years,
And instead of happy memories, are left with heartache and painful souvenirs.
By Lance Landall
Mind What You Say And Do
It’s sad that it can take almost a life-time before we’ve learnt, and then it’s often too late,
For the damage is done, our energy waning, and troubles and poor health lying in wait,
And we, very regretful, our back against the wall, and old father time ticking away,
All of which then seems to conspire against us, as if wanting to make us suffer and pay.
When all is said and done, it’s all about treating other folk well, and not causing them ill,
For come those twilight hours of our life, and amidst deep reflection, past wrongs may haunt and chill,
Yes, rather than the warmth of much happier memories, and deeds more noble and worthy,
We may feel cold draughts of restlessness and anxiety, and sleep may not come easily.
And we may also be forced to live with the baleful results of our callousness and folly,
Be that via personal scars, or scars we’ve inflicted on others, that shout at us daily,
For all that we do and say, results in something, be it minor or major, good or bad,
Which, amidst our final years, will leave past years looking beautifully or shamefully clad.
Or to put it another way, such will leave us selflessly clothed or selfishly exposed,
Our conscience clear or pricking, and we, thus either agitated or serenely composed,
For all that we leave behind, either remains behind, or catches up, eventually,
A fact that has borne the test of time — one that rather than later, is better learnt early.
By Lance Landall
Unfair Ripples
We need to remember that whenever we annoy, provoke, malign, upset or hurt someone,
That such can create a ripple effect, and hence why there's that need to watch what is said and done.
Sure we may well have cause to be cross with someone, for they may have treated us very poorly,
But how we respond to them, could somehow injure others, such as their partner or family.
We seldom stop to think of these unfair ripples that we may cause, and that we do in fact cause,
Yes, ripples that are both known and selfish, and over which, we would all do well to stop and pause.
For often those that we upset or injure, take it out on others, and just as thoughtlessly,
And thereby, they create another negative ripple — hence so much misery that we see.
Yes, for this world is full of people who are creating such ripples, ripples that needn’t be,
And that could be avoided, lessening so much disturbance in the pond of humanity.
A pond where stones far too often bounce, even affecting other folk indiscriminately,
For such ripples can affect whoever is in their path, given how they spread so easily.
Tell me...
Are you a ripple maker? Someone who is throwing stones into the pond of humanity,
And thereby adding to the lot that other folk have to bear, and all so very pointlessly?
Well, I pray that you’ll take on board what I have presented here, and leave those stones where they belong,
For such ripples weren't meant to be, and are the doings of the weak, not the doings of the strong.
By Lance Landall
It's Not Until Later
Some of us have done crazy and regretful things that we can’t believe we did do,
That is, now that many years have passed by, and that via wiser eyes we see anew.
Perhaps having grown up, perhaps having sorted ourselves out, and learnt the hard way,
But now, wishing it was all a bad dream, rather than the folly of yesterday.
It seems that when we’re in our youth, (even a little older), we’re somewhat blind,
And that it’s not until many years later that twenty twenty vision we find —
Figuratively speaking, that is — and then, like someone who has regained their sight,
We see what we didn’t before, and where there was darkness, now there’s revealing light.
Yes, light that shows the true nature and painful consequences of those self-centred deeds,
And oh, how we regret our foolishness, how our more pure and sensitive heart bleeds,
For not just we are left suffering, but whoever was on the receiving end,
Be they a spouse, a son or daughter, a family member, a stranger or a friend.
If only younger bodies had older heads, far less cause for regret there would be,
But no, it seems that it’s not until later that we finally or clearer see.
And when we do, it’s sometimes with utter disbelief, and terrible pangs of pain,
For certain things we did before, we wouldn’t dream of doing now — and can’t explain.
By Lance Landall
A Certain Regret
I’ve met some really lovely folk in my life, people who I thought were great, but didn’t fully appreciate,
And how I regret such, for now, having matured more, I’m better able to selflessly evaluate.
At the end of the day, how many truly lovely people come our way? — and why we should treasure them so,
For while many people are very nice, less are really lovely people, who truly care and real love show.
And yes, I’ve let a few of them down — wish I hadn’t — for how I wish they were still around given I’ve grown,
So regretful of the many foolish mistakes I’ve made on my journey, and unfortunate seeds I’ve sown.
I guess some of us take a little longer to mature, issues and selfishness getting in the way, sadly,
Or simply the failure to see what we would’ve been better to see, and now do, thanks to maturity.
Not that we ever reach a state that’s free of mistakes, but growth counts for a lot, and helps us far better see,
And oh, how much better we need to, for it’s that failure to see, or youthful blindness, that mars our journey.
And which can also mar someone else’s, or leave an unpleasant snapshot, a best forgotten memory,
All of which doesn't serve us well, and a budding relationship can kill, hence why it’s important to see.
Yes, such is the way it has been for many, who, just like me, didn’t appreciate some who came their way —
Well, not as much as they should’ve — or who somehow jiggered a friendship, which on both sides duly caused dismay.
And why I hope that in the years I have left, and in theirs too, more really lovely people will come along,
For such people I’m now able to appreciate more, and will respond accordingly, lest thing go wrong.
By Lance Landall
Moving On
Many who’ve been badly hurt, wounded by someone’s callous and selfish arrows, have no choice but to move on,
Leaving that certain someone behind, things hardly repairable, whatever they had well and truly gone.
They possibly having suffered beforehand, and here they are, having to remove themselves from further ill,
For were they to stay, and not prudence obey, they’d be forced to keep riding that miserable carousel.
The human heart can only take so much, and far less so, the heart of those who have suffered previously,
They often still dealing with weeping wounds that weren’t attended to — their battle in this case, even more lonely.
And midst such, finding themselves being fired at again, even more callous and selfish arrows coming their way,
And all because of those who cruelly abuse, be that mentally or physically, or who trust betray.
And hence why there comes a time in the life of many out there where moving on is a mere formality,
Something they’ve no choice but to do, for remaining would ensure a far worse outcome — yes, greater injury.
And such they can’t afford, and what’s the point where there’s no gain? — simply more anxiety, misery and pain,
That day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year, hope, joy and happiness will drain.
No, it’s sad but true, that moving on is the only sound option for many, they having done what they could,
For were they to stay, more ill would come their way, and in some cases, serious consequences the likelihood.
And why for many, only moving on can provide a way out, usher in a new day, and healing too,
Whereby someone new is even found, someone who only right seeks to do, their love being genuine and true.
By Lance Landall
Love Yourself? — Who Told You That?
The truth is, that it’s not about loving ourselves, but all about learning to accept ourselves as we are,
Our worth being in our very existence, and not in our loving ourselves — which, to be honest, is quite bazaar.
And another truth is, that contrary to what’s being hollered, self love is today’s plague on society,
Even the Bible condemning those who’re “lovers of themselves,” such love being narcissism, and thus unhealthy.
The “love yourself” gospel is simply repackaged New Age mumbo-jumbo fuelling current introspection,
Such being an injurious preoccupation with one’s self, with its pity party, pampering connection.
It’s time we forgot about ourselves, and lost ourselves in others, the truth being that we love ourselves too much,
Hence our selfish indulgences, our looking after number one, that vanity that has folk in its clutch.
Even our partaking of food is oft done in order to make ourselves feel better-cum-sooth our feelings,
And oh, how we spoil ourselves-cum-treat ourselves, and consider our own interests more in all our dealings.
Yes, it’s not that we don’t love ourselves, (for we clearly do and far too much), but that we simply fail to see
That our worth is based on our very existence — and that acceptance, and not loving ourselves, is the key.
Our birth is a miracle in itself, our value beyond pricing, and we, a link in humanity,
Not the chain itself, but a precious link, our worth no less or more than others — so skip pop psychology —
Such being where that “love yourself” gospel derived from, such appealing to our natural selfish tendencies,
And why it’s been grabbed so fast — and wrongly — for when we love ourselves, it’s more ourselves that we seek to please.
By Lance Landall
When Silence Descends
(Dedicated to the hearing impaired)
This world’s full of many who have suffered at its hands, and amongst them, those whose hearing has suffered injury,
And thus they not able to enjoy anymore what most take for granted, and even put at risk, foolishly.
Oh, how hard such is to deal with, life seemingly shutting them out, for so much is experienced via one's ears,
And then there’s tinnitus — twenty four seven — noises that can rob of peace and sleep, drive one crazy, bring to tears.
Oh yes, the noises often worse than the hearing loss, constant and loud, like hundreds of cicadas in a tree,
Or like a jug on the boil, a flushing urinal, a leaking air hose — permanent tension —no break, no mercy.
On one hand, the inability to hear what one used to, and on the other, an insane cacophony,
Sirens, hisses, bells, hums, even what sounds like an unintelligible radio station — yes, misery.
Hence why many become like hermits, withdrawing from society, they irritable, angry, tired and stressed,
And often feeling unable to cope, and adding to such, others’ seeming lack of thought-cum-disinterest.
Yes, it’s the same old story: Until folk suffer from such too, they don’t show the thought they should, even get annoyed,
Fed up with that — “Sorry, what was that again?” — when a little more volume or clarity they could’ve employed.
Then there’s Hyperacusis, hearing damage that leaves one hypersensitive to noises, let alone one's loss,
For oddly, both can go together, and tinnitus with them, hence those folk who’re carrying such a dreadful cross.
Yes, they struggling to cope, and even depressed — people who shouldn’t be subjected to insensitivity,
For hearing loss can be a heavy burden, a serious loss, it affecting one's life considerably.
And as for hearing aids, they’re hardly like one's natural hearing, only go so far, and have their issues too,
Though in many cases they’re a blessing, but a mixed one — and who can afford such, pursue such an avenue?
And no, they don’t work for all, especially those who’ve as good as no hearing at all, and need a miracle,
For all they know is silence — complete silence — they seemingly in solitary confinement, tragically.
So please, mind how you go.
By Lance Landall
Why Am I So Cranky?
Well, I dare say you would be too, if you lived with noise twenty-four-seven, and dreadfully so,
Yes, a maddening cacophony within your ears-cum-head that cruelly refuses to go.
A din that grows when it’s exposed to more noisy situations, or some sudden loudish sound,
And that an already tense, tiring, distressing and depressing affliction is sure to compound.
And that affliction? Tinnitus! Something that many would refer to as hellish, a nightmare,
Such worse when things are quiet, such worse when exposed to noises — a racket-cum-commotion in each ear.
Oh, the misery, and why it can drive folk crazy — and sometimes, I’m sure quite literally,
And hence why I’m so cranky, for there’s nothing that I can do, which just raises the anxiety.
So please, I really would like your understanding — some leeway here — your overlooking some things,
For every day within my ears-cum-head there are hums, hisses, bells, sirens, cicadas and rings.
In fact, an orchestra, but not as commonly heard, for there’s no melody, no harmony,
But rather, a bedlam of sound, a heavy metal band on steroids torturing evilly.
Yes, a heartless enemy, and there, every single moment of every single night and day,
Such being like a punishment for some unimaginable crime — so there, imprisoned I stay.
Yes, a shocking life sentence — well, from its beginnings, that is — and therefore, no release in sight,
And why that merciless cacophony continues to harass me each day and sleepless night.
Don’t damage your ears!
By Lance Landall
The Ninety-Nine Percent
Today we’re hearing from those who call themselves The Ninety-Nine Percent, and to be frank, they’re hardly far from wrong,
For the wealth-cum-power of a few has been manipulating and controlling this old Earth for far too long.
Not that such should've been at all, for no one person or group should be riding roughshod over humanity,
And hence those strong voices of The Ninety-Nine Percent who are calling for an end to such criminality.
Ever since the beginning of this Earth’s history, there have been those who have sought to dominate and control,
And who, if they had their deluded and villainous way, would stamp all over humanity as a whole.
Such is why power should always be dispersed as widely as possible, and not placed in the hands of a few,
And why each nation shouldn’t be somehow tied to another, or to them all, as New World Orders seek to do.
However....
Danger can even lie in people power-cum-the voice of the majority, who, just as deludedly
Can trample on their dissenters too — the minority — which once again shouts tyranny and stupidity.
Hence why freedom of expression and civil-religious liberty-cum-human rights, should be untouchable,
For any who tinker with such, or trample on such, soon bring about ill-cum-that old historic carousel.
At the end of the day, all who seek freedom from tyranny and want a better way, must be above reproach,
That is, they mustn’t be willing to violate what they shouldn't in order to bring about change, lest they encroach,
That being, on the rights of others, for two wrongs don’t make a right, but rather, holler hypocrisy and folly,
For no matter who’s wanting what, “The end justifies the means” is where it all comes undone, eventually.
Thus, until “The end justifies the means” approach is dead and buried, there’s little hope of true peace and harmony,
For such a flawed approach has been used over and over again — and yes, by those on both sides, tragically.
The only way ahead lies in the complete repudiation of anything that violates human rights,
A path that’s free of selfishness, indifference and destructiveness — we not just voices, but bright and pure lights.
The way of The Ninety-Nine Percent needs to be transparent, a path where no one is thought a minority,
But rather, where all are treated with the same thought, care and respect, even should they think and act differently.
In other words, all must be free to walk according to their conscience, providing they don’t act violently,
For the way ahead must be free of any action that causes grief to any member of humanity.
Yes, protestors have come and gone — often midst destructiveness and lawlessness — they behaving just like their foe,
That is, they attempting to achieve their ends by acts from which many wrongs also flow.
For fighting fire with fire has never extinguished the flames of oppression, violence, hatred and bigotry,
But rather, has fuelled such, or left coal quietly smouldering away only to flare up again, insanely.
By Lance Landall
To Those Who're Well-off
We, the less well-off, and many of us poor, don’t begrudge you your wealth, for wealth isn’t bad in itself, and,
Nor its legitimate accumulation, given that wealth can build on itself, which we quite understand.
But what we don’t like is, you flaunting your wealth — rubbing it in our anxious and tired faces, effectively,
For such can really rankle given all our hardships, our unintended predicament financially.
Yes, the sheer indulgence we see, so bankrupt morally, for such ignores the struggles that we’re going through,
Struggles that could be eased, even solved, and why we would appreciate a little thought and fairness from you.
After all, our ranks are swelling, and the gap between the rich and poor is growing — yes, faster by the day,
Which will only lead to greater unrest and injury all-round, rather than usher in a better day.
And especially when such an air of superiority comes from that same well-off territory,
As wealth hardly equates to superiority — and those who act so, simply insult humanity —
For all are equal, all worthy of Earth’s bounties, food, clothing, a home, health, happiness and security,
And this, regardless of their race, their religion or gender — nobody treated better or differently.
Yes, it’s time that snobbery ended, and those well-off cliques, which we, the less well-off, find offensive and unkind,
For such unfairly stigmatises, leaves us out in the cold — though we’re oft better and even more refined.
Oh yes, for many who’re wealthy live lives of debauchery, just selfishly and senselessly waste money,
Money that could ease the burdens of many, restore health, save lives, and rescue others from dire poverty.
Yes, we the less well-off, don’t begrudge you your wealth, for it’s not money that’s the problem, but how such is spent,
Or hoarded, (Scrooge McDuck like), for that which is wasted or hoarded, so much misery and pain could prevent.
Sure it’s your money, but where’s your heart, given wealth doesn't automatically equate to nobleness,
For greater generosity is found amongst the less well-off, who given what they see, hate greediness.
And here, greediness is another word for pure indulgence — a crime when so many are in need on Earth,
They struggling, suffering, and even dying, midst that money that you who’re well-off, waste on pleasure and mirth.
Yes, many of us going without a humble cottage, while many of you live in homes that just shout pride,
Homes that go far beyond anyone’s need, and the rest you display, which widens that glaring and foul divide.
In other words, that huge gulf between those who have and those who don’t have, one thats stench grows stronger by the day,
For it’s a gulf that allows many to live like kings while others are left to suffer and fall by the way.
A gulf that shouldn’t be, but that sadly is, and all because of that selfish “Me and mine” mentality,
Which worships at an exclusive temple, bows before an image that’s detached, heartless, shallow and empty.
By Lance Landall
A Funny Kind Of Love
We like to think that we’re generous, but the truth is, that our generosity oft only goes so far,
In other words, it’s cruelly selective, usually a case of: “Depending on who other folk are.”
Yes, we hardly give until it hurts, nor in every way, and when it comes to others, we’re very choosy,
Which not only shows some flaw in us, but suggests a corrupted form of giving, which others oft can see.
Too many of us have a notebook mentality, a heartless tick the box list, which many hardly meet,
Or perhaps there are some we won’t help again — no second chance, sort of thing — hence our legalistic retreat.
Yes, too bad some folk regret the way they once behaved after getting some help from us — having grown and learnt —
But aren’t going to get that help that they need again, even though we can afford to once again get burnt.
So they don’t get such, and we spend what we could’ve given on what? More selfish wants as opposed to real needs?
Whilst patting ourselves on the back over others we’ve helped, which oft amounts to self-serving selective deeds.
Yes, on the one hand we’re generous and kind, and on the other, selective, hardnosed and even petty,
And we think that we’re pretty good people — well, dream on, I say — though it’s time that we all faced reality.
The truth of the matter is, that we so often whine whilst giving — in other words, we give reluctantly,
And in many cases, no doubt, in order to appease our conscience, though Scrooge-like — just enough, miserly.
Yes, we’re great ones for fooling ourselves, but others aren’t so fooled, they knowing our good deeds are more a veneer,
For when push comes to shove, it’s seen we’ve a funny kind of love — and sad to say, such is more common than rare.
By Lance Landall
For Crying Out Loud, Just Give!
Yes, just give! — and when you’ve given, give again, and while you’re at it, throw that hardnosed pen and notebook away,
Remembering that true charity sees the need and not the cause — and oh, how many are in need today.
Be they those who’re starving in far away lands, a neighbour, relation, friend or stranger — and give without end —
Yes, even until it hurts, rather than adding icing to your cake, or some thoughtless indulgence defend.
Well, I mean to say, consider how much money folk generally waste, they buying what they hardly need,
While others battle poverty, die some horrid death, or really struggle, and often thanks to others’ greed.
And where not plain greed, others “I want this,” or, “I want that too,” list, and this, when they have enough already,
But oh no, they want a spa pool, a Mercedes, a flash looking house, or is it a conservatory?
Meantime, folk bleed, the strain oft ending marriages and splitting families — and thus plaguing society —
For many who’ve not enough oft turn to crime, or somehow suffer emotionally or physically,
And yes, many of them are angry at the injustice of such, which others could ease or end so easily,
But no, they continue to add to their comforts, even thinking that they’re hard done by, ridiculously.
Yes, too many who have enough think that they haven’t enough, and have no idea how the other half live,
In other words, what its really like to go without, all thanks to those who so selfishly refuse to give.
Or who give so little compared to what they could give, thus thereby even ensuring that others won’t live,
And who therefore have innocent blood on their self-serving hands, and why I say: For crying out loud, just give!
By Lance Landall
The following poem contains Christian references.
2012 They Say
There have always been those who have attached significance to some date, be that correctly or incorrectly,
And yes, 2012 is one such date, and why two very important things I would like to clarify:
The Mayan Long Count calendar is not a prophetic calendar, and as far as things go biblically,
The Bible states that no one knows the date of Christ’s return, nor the date of Earth’s fate apocalyptically…
The latter two occurring at the same time, by the way — a date that even angels don’t know, apparently.
Thus, if the latter two did occur in 2012, such would simply be a lucky guess, quite clearly,
Though if the error filled date setting of the past is anything to go by, such seems rather unlikely.
Yes, certain things may well occur in 2012, for going by the Bible, and its accuracy,
The likes of calamities, pestilence, famines, wars, violence and lawlessness will occur more frequency…
And it even says that a tyrannical religious-political power will control humanity.
Hence why one could argue…
That it’s surely better to live rightly and find that there isn’t a God, and that the Bible is incorrect,
Than to live wrongfully, (out of sync with God’s will), and find that there is a God, and that the Bible is correct.
And at the end of the day, hope counts for a lot, and those principles and beliefs found in Christianity,
For the flip side is, “Why bother doing what's right, for what’s the point?" — a “Dog eat dog” and “Who cares?” society…
And there goes accountability.
Well, regardless of what lies ahead, joy and peace is found in doing good to others, and keeping our conscience clear,
And though we will not be free of troubles and suffering, much of such, via the right attitude, we’ll elsewhere steer.
And when all is said and done, what will be will be — and hey, when has anybody benefited from worry?
So meantime, let us lovingly do whatever we can to improve and ease the sad lot of humanity.
By Lance Landall
The following poem contains Christian references.
Beware The Eckhart Tolles
(Re Eckhart Tolle — Author of A New Earth)
Yes, beware of the likes of the Eckhart Tolles who are popping up everywhere today, unsurprisingly,
For we’re living in a time where anything goes, where anything’s embraced, folk having lost their way, sadly.
A time when many are confused and are running after this and that, their feet no longer firm on the ground,
And hence why opportunists — many in the form of New Age gurus-cum-spiritual teachers — abound.
Yes, it’s all been seen before, and therefore, is hardly due the title New Age, for it’s ages old, actually,
And such deluded or deliberate charlatans having long been proven to be just that, and rightly.
In other words, yogis, swamis, mystics, psychics — call them what you will — who’re raking in heaps of money,
And all because so many are caught up in the so-called “New spirituality,” Eckhart Tolle folly.
Now, I’m not knocking the man, but just his version of New Age mumbo-jumbo that’s doing the rounds today,
Such being the outcome of an unhappy childhood, his seeking some mystical healing — oh, how people stray —
For there’s no such thing, but rather, a learning to live with our injuries, a refocusing of our thoughts,
And not an emptying of the mind, for thoughts are meant to constantly come and go, which medical science supports.
In fact, once we empty our mind of thoughts, we expose our mind to hypnotic influences we can’t control,
Such meaning: Any outside force could fill that vacuum with what it wants to say, thus misleading some poor soul.
But regardless of such a grave danger, we hardly need the added confusion of New Age mysticism;
Its sources being one’s imagination, the occult, Eastern religions and primitive paganism.
And yes, some Christianity thrown in as well — a right old potpourri — or, Christianity-cum-such,
As many Christians have mixed such with their Christian beliefs and practices, though their Bible conveys, “Don’t touch!”
For this New spirituality-cum-New Age concoction is far from sound, a fusion of confusions,
A subtle and not so subtle blend of truth and error spread by the Eckhart Tolles nursing their delusions.
Yes, we live in a world where the enlightened aren’t so enlightened, a world where foxes guard the hens, where
Soldiers
shame their flag, where Christians shame their Lord, where leaders lie,
fudge, plot, fiddle, fornicate and wrongly steer,
Where men hide behind religion, where some seek to rule the world, where the truthful are oft tagged as liars, where
Liars are oft saying they’re not so, and where fiction, fantasy, falsehood and heresy are held more dear.
Yes, we live in a time when Christians have exchanged their trust in God for trust in man, (turning to arms as well),
A time in which morals have been traded for lust, discipline for appetite, and some say, Heaven for hell.
Yes, a time in which principles have been exchanged for opportunities, standards for convenience, and,
Where billions are spent on sheer indulgence while others live in abject poverty, and die, though close at hand.
Thus, it’s no surprise that people are confused, and are chasing this and that — answers being right under their nose —
For when sense, wisdom, fact and truth are exchanged for fiction, fantasy, error and nonsense, that’s how it goes.
We’re meant to live with the realities of life, and to work within them, and not go chasing the mystical,
And nor go exchanging the tried and true for some New Age gobble-de-gook-cum-flawed and experimental.
By Lance Landall
Don't Doubt Your Worth
Sometimes we can feel like a nobody, lost within the great sea of humanity,
A grain of sand pushed and pulled by life’s tides, or shoved by waves of insensitivity.
Or perhaps a leaf, one that’s detached and floating aimlessly, adrift on a cool breeze,
One caught in some melancholy Autumn, concerned that fate’s careless rake might cruelly seize.
Yes, sometimes life can leave us feeling left out, that we don’t fit in, and we feel alone,
Lost in caverns of introspection, where we wrestle fretfully, and inwardly groan.
Or we struggle to find our way through the maze of past mistakes, regret nipping our heels,
And we wonder — yes, we often wonder — is there anyone else who just like us feels?
A nobody, a grain of sand, a leaf, an after thought possibly, or last resort,
Someone who hardly figures in the mind of others, a vessel that’s without a port.
Yes, somebody just like us, aching inside, wanting to be noticed, or even heard,
Who’s seemingly destined to go it alone, others nodding but not saying a word.
And yet, our value is just as great, and our place on this earth just as necessary,
Thus, regardless of how we may feel, we have an important place in humanity,
For every beach relies on every grain of sand, and each leaf has its place on each tree,
Thus, should our time on earth expire, so much the worse for our absence this world would be.
By Lance Landall
Don't Doubt Your Place
Don’t be fazed by film stars, pop stars, presidents, kings or popes, nor consider yourself any less,
For they’re just as human as you are, and no greater, despite their position, power or success.
Yes, they too, have to attend that little room where one is humbled, and they too, become elderly,
For they’re just as mortal as you, simply have a different function, are known far more publicly.
And hence why I’d never pay homage to one who’s as earthly as me, though I’d still act politely,
Aware that some have a certain role to play, a certain authority, responsibility.
But that they are also no greater, nor have been given a different body or brain to me,
And hence are thus my equal, and there to serve too, not to lord it over me, or humanity.
History’s littered with ambitious, deluded fools, propelled by delusions of grandeur — their own,
Yes, wanting to make their mark, and boy, they sure do, terribly so, dictating from their self made throne.
Others strut like egotistic peacocks, lapping up the attention, basking in their own glory,
Only to suffer the same fate as anyone else — lost looks, old age, a plot in a cemetery.
Meantime, amidst their power play, or love affair with the limelight, they act as if they’re more worthy,
When in fact, they’re often less so, given that their acts or behaviour work more injuriously.
And those who could be deemed as worthy, and even greater, are humbly lost within society,
Where they quietly leave behind a better legacy — selflessly, and even unconsciously.
By Lance Landall
Don't Bottle Things Up
It never pays to bottle things up, but rather, to express ourselves freely, and thus get things off our chest,
For what’s bottled up can ferment, and in time explode — the results being anyone’s guess, and not for the best.
Yes, such acting like a poison within us, a boil that hasn’t been lanced, which can only but lead to ill,
Not just physically and emotionally, but also causing some relationship to go downhill.
Yes, it’s always better to say what we honestly think, to say what’s bothering us, for when we hold back
Such can create a toxic frustration, one needful of release, lest we blow our top, have a heart attack.
At the end of the day, there’s nothing worse than us feeling unable to express our upset, or feelings,
Such being the root of so much tension, anger, illness and ill feeling, from which even worse usually springs.
Hence why we should always let folk say what they think, tell us what’s bothering them, we showing maturity,
We nobly taking such on the chin like adults, accepting their constructive criticism graciously.
And thus learning and growing from such, whilst meantime freeing that safety valve of theirs that’s too often left stuck,
(Thereby allowing a dangerous pressure to build, ensuring that sometime, somewhere, things will run amuck).
As with most things, there’s always a downside, for what folk say can hurt, but that’s better than greater ill, surely,
For when folk don’t have an outlet for their pent-up feelings, they oft turn to what can hurt us more severely.
Or they take it out on society in some way, we having indirectly opened that baleful door,
For we might have prevented such had we let them have their say — and a way to deal with their beef, sought to explore.
Yes, oft the problem lies with us — it’s us at fault — or it’s our inability to take things on the chin,
We responding poorly, even adding to the problem, they then left feeling more aggrieved-cum-worse within.
Hence why we should always let folk have their say — pleasant or not — we always responding with maturity,
Remembering that such shows strength, and so does expressing yourself — saying what you think — but with integrity.
By Lance Landall
By the way: Such is another good reason why we should guard freedom of expression very jealously.
