Walking away towards forever land…

This is not a poetry corner moment, just a moment…


i kinda' look like her :o)

i kinda’ look like her :o)


Walking away towards forever land.

I’m looking,

just looking.

See the waterfall as it turns ways of creativity.

Striking the curiosity,

virtuosity movement gave me silence to believe

inwardly of hope
and love
and courage…

I’m looking for my loved one

who is going far away,

yet so close,

inwardly of hope
and love
and courage to muster the voice
above these tears.

I believe in such a moment,
to which I felt strongly in past years.

Yes, strongly felt.
Still looking,
somewhat searching closely
for that loved one who is nearing passing,
that one who is close to the forever land.

I just believed

only if you could see.



K.G. Bethlehem

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HAIKU — 10242014 (Friday Night Poetry Corner #49)


Petrified Forest

Good late evening everyone!
Welcome to another edition of Friday Night Poetry Corner #49. October is Haiku month so continuing on with theme here is a nice piece by Ron Evans called “Haiku-10242014.” I will say this if you love nature writings, you will like this one. Thanks for visit and when you have time, visit Randa Lane’s blog for more creative haiku from various poets.

Originally posted on Randa Lane - Haiku and More!:

Petrified Forest

Petrified Forest

petrified forest

how ineffably silent blows

the wind


© Copyright 2013-2014 Ron Evans

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Cries answered by no one (הזנחה)…

Servant of the One; a picture of madness.

Servant of the One; a picture of madness.

The coming of the demon,

It begs the question of who is the survival of this world. I under certain parts of nature. The reason beyond quiet moments and loud thoughts. The witness who see such evil in everyday routines. Near their homes.

Near their place of work.

At their homes.

At their work, and maybe their church.

If they believe in such things.
The coming of the demon, it has spoken, and I will deliver. Who am I you say?

No one of importance.

The master of giving looks so surprise to see me. It has the makings of the beautiful essay of lies. I would also inform the carrier of lies….

"They don't like me, I don't know why..."

“They don’t like me, I don’t know why…”

Thoughts of Perliuss Simms
Mental Illness is a condition that affects millions of people across the nation. The causes vary in which there are many gray areas than most. For example, trauma can be the main cause of mental illness. Heredity is another. Each individual person usually goes through an extensive assessment by a medial professional; one whose expert knowledge are in such areas. The recommendations can range from counseling to medication. Or more serious, hospitalization if one is deemed a threat to themselves and others in the community.

The passage I wrote above is from a fictional character of the book “Shadow Within A City” in which Perliuss Simms had a traumatic childhood. Not from a stereotypical variety of a rough upbringing in a low income area to which mainstream media carries like a badge of wisdom, but from a privilege one.

He was bullied unmercifully, and his parents did not listen or cared.

Bullying is a drain in our society. I fashion such actions of a coward in training but most of my venom is towards the parents. The ones who allow their child to become terrors and the others ones who ignored the victims. In such cases both sets of children are victims due to neglect of their parents. This is where the community comes in. Takes a village to raise a child right? How about at least we offer support and encouragement to such situations. The need for them to be address is what is lacking in uncontested bullying.

Now in the case of Periluss he transformed into a criminal monster who waited no more to be victimized, but inflicted pain to suspected aggressors. He became the aggressor to whom he hated when he was a child. He became the one that actually made him to what he was as an adult.

Almost pure evil.

This does not mean victims will become their perpetrator but we must look at unchecked cries for help even if we don’t physically hear them. If not someone else will—Gangs.

Or another–abusers. Like the ones who walk with demons eh?

It takes a village to raise a child, it takes a human being to empathize with their fellow human including a child.

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—-Excerpt from Astronomical Chapter 6

The void creates madness to the weak and and arrogant ones..

Good evening everyone…

Here is another post in an effort of show casing my newest book Astronomical©.  The passage below is a short read but takes a look at a sub-story of this anti utopia science fiction world.  Pay attention to Mury Te, the would be hero who currently is in another position in life…

A failure?

Your turn.




Chapter 6
“When it echoes, you really do hear echoes, if not—-something is very wrong with you….”


5 months prior, New Richmond, VA; Downtown Green Light District West


“I love the smell of fresh bread, God I miss eating good—-homemade pasties…”

Mury, the aloof rebel, roamed the darkened streets, hungry for a quick meal. It had been two days and all he had consumed were beef subs with plain chips and water. This fate was especially horrible due to him cutting beef out of his diet for five years now. Currently he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He was sick of it and so disgusted by his current situation that he pondered nightly about going back to a simple life. All of that was gone about a month ago due to his error of not killing Dr. Johnny Matferseed of the Happy Go Lucky Club. He was there on a cleaning job. The doctor was in his office. He had his chance but didn’t want to risk it. He decided only at the last minute that he would visit him again at night. Every Tuesday, he worked late and he would pay him one final visit. His facts were correct. The good doctor was there. It happened 4 days ago, a plan that was perfect to be carried out in full compliance. Additionally, the club was a front for the Nexus Jor but his identity was exposed, mainly betrayed by someone….

“Clar…,” mumbled Mury sorrowfully, eyes still water drenched like a passing rainstorm.

He wasn’t too sure but the X-Police knew everything about his operation. Everything down to his disguise, escape plans and his last evening with Clar. He assumed it was her and why not? She was the only one who knew of everything. He was angry and half broken at his state of affairs. He barely escaped from the hunting of the X-Police and more so, he was still being hunted to this day. His face was half burned by a mini explosion when he busted through the back door of the club. His left arm still tinged with numbness due to the exposed glass that greeted his arm through the chase. He just couldn’t remember where.

It all went so array. The plan and its greatness just failed without warning. His identification was new and made to fit his so called disguise. Even to regular eyes could it be called flawless? No one knew of the real him. He was just a janitor from the Northern Washington D.C. outer district. He even changed his looks and grew a full beard with a grayish tone. The first day on his new job was picture perfect. He was greeted by his supervisor and introduced to his co-workers. They were all friendly but a little bit too friendly, even for a job that paid low wages compared to others. The building was very nice. It was a corporate arms company in southern New Richmond. He was shocked to find out the bonus each employee would receive at the end of the year. War was great for business but even so for the lowly help.

Still, it didn’t stop him from his nightly activities. Each night after he got off from work, he would go to the local bar and meet up with a local informant who only went by the name “Timothy.” They would discuss the information they obtained through secretive means, mostly by the tracking of local arms bought and sold through the Happy Go Lucky Club. They would sit at the bar and talk in code. For instance, if they were to describe a missile, they would say, “A shipment of cleaning chemicals was messy.” If they would speak about stolen codes they used to hack into the computers, they would say “it was a hard order to process.” If their plans were a success, they would say, “The order was complete with mops included.” Even with these coded phrases they would talk like it was normal about sports or women who they thought were cute. It was all a lie, but a clever one even to the local X-Police who dubbed them, “The drunken boys of Richmond.” But what was even most clever was that they were never drunk. It was all a bit of acting which would have made a veteran thespian proud. The last night they met was a couple of days ago. It was the Tuesday that he picked up the local waitress to take home.

It all seemed like years ago. His nearly broken body was a result of an invasion that went wrong. As soon as he broke into the offices of the Happy Go Lucky Club, he was ambushed by several men in unknown uniforms. All of which had clubs and shock sticks that they used to beat him badly. He only escaped when he threw old time flash grenades that stunned the men while he threw himself through a close by window. His escape was a success, much to the disliking of his injured arm. Here he was, staring into a mirror at an abandoned studio in the lower green light section of New Richmond. He, at last, stopped wandering. The mission to check out the area again to finalize his escape was done. He made it back to his temporary hideout which dually served as an abandoned studio apartment. The room had broken wood and electronics all over the floor with a dusty bed inhabited by numerous bugs. His only choice was to sleep in the dingy tub located in the fowl smelling bathroom. To his delight, no bugs were seen in there. The lighting was equally horrible with only the street light as his only option. His face was scared but he didn’t care. He was alive for now which was a blessing in itself.

What he did remember from 4 days ago was what one of the unknown men spoke as they surrounded him. He only said, “A traitor given to us by another…..” Even if he didn’t say that he knew someone gave him up. He thought at first it was Timothy, but later he heard that he was killed the same night he was beaten. All his assumptions pointed at Clar, but why? Why would she betray him? It didn’t make sense, not even to a drunken pilot at a safe fly convention. His anger was now complete. He needed answers from her. He needed to know the truth. All the information he gathered most likely was a ruse. It was all too convenient. The gathering of X-Police and Nexus Jors at the Happy Go Lucky Club every Tuesday morning as well as the meetings between Dr. Johnny Maferseed and the local Mayor; all with direct links to the Federal Security Council. It was just too damn convenient. Maybe his undoubted plans for revenge clouded his judgment but now he knew for sure. They were now on to him and surely wanted to make an example out of him. A public display of court trials or a hidden murder, who knew? He stumbled on something that could expose the local and high governments but what was it?? At any rate, he must get out of town soon. He can’t continue hiding in New Richmond; soon the X-Police would catch up to him. His thoughts were ablaze. He couldn’t think of any way to get out without causing more murders. More fucking bodies to put on his conscience was the last thing he wanted to do…

For now at least.

He sat gently on an aged wooden auburn coffee table near the middle of the room. The green rug was very dirty. In fact, the dirt was so thick that the greenish tone almost appeared to be darkening. The street light was barely visible in this part of the room and mainly showed his feet. His eyes focused on the studio that was on the first floor of a nearly abandoned building. He saw shadows of people walking past and heard strange conversations of work among other things. Between minutes of glaring, he heard screeching cars from afar that were soon followed by sirens. This went on for nearly three hours. After five cigarettes had gone up in smoke, he was finally losing patience. He put out his sixth cigarette and groaned quietly, “Enough of this bullshit, I’m getting the fuck out.”




Thank you for taking the time to read this, hope you enjoyed it and any comment, criticism or not are well accepted.

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Suppressed Intelligence…

Originally posted on kgbethlehem:

The void creates madness to the weak and and arrogant ones..

Suppressed Intelligence: To maintain an equal intellect that corresponds with the everyday masses to create a more harmonic relationship in society to induce productivity in all societal segments while suppressing the urges of a deemed low segments of society to be advance in thinking and belief in the same qualities of people deem more advance than themselves.

—except from Astronomical

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17 October 2014 — #haiku (Friday Night Poetry Corner #48)



merging-galaxies_1083_600x450Welcome, welcome, welcome to another late but still the weekend of Friday Night Poetry Corner #48. Continuing with the Haiku theme for the month of October here is a joint that i believe you will like. This piece just dated October 17, 2014 by Cathy Tenzo with the theme of space. Just read it and let the images engulf you mind.

You imagination will thank you that…
Enjoy and visit this poet’s page from time to time.

Originally posted on Haiku Plate Special:

Milky Way
a field of smudge
amongst the stars

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“Complacency, apathy, never institutes change..”

-K. G. Bethlehem

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Haiku #38 (Friday Night Poetry Corner #47)



Greetings everyone, welcome to another edition of Friday Night Poetry Corner # 47. Haiku are the them for the entire month of October and I found this gem called Haiku #38 by the Poet call Annie. Please check out her page which holds more beautifully written pieces of this quiet yet soulful poetry…

Originally posted on Annie's Haiku:

in the apple blossom froth:
a full moon


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Friday Night Poetry Corner #46


Friday Night Poetry Corner #46


Here is an old poem of mines from 1993, more situational poetry I use to write a long time ago. It makes you wonder how far we came in the terms of relationships; and how much we need to strive to make them whole. If not well….

evil can happen…

How could love be a pretender and grace a sin to such a person. A monster.

Or did they became a monster during the course of the relationship?

I think such a person was this way for a very long time, relationship or not. Cruelty is a cowards way of showing power, commanding their will upon ones of are deemed weaker than them.

Good manners are virtues of the weak-minded they would say.

I say I hate them all the same.

Yes I hate them…

thanks for stopping by.
Witness of a domestic dispute©

was it fate that bought us here?
A man of words with too many beers
the woman’s voice wasn’t calm
feeling the wrath of the devil’s palm…

much love for those we see out front
the man’s mistake, the woman’s hunt
the child is somewhere near
without affection of any fear

the house looks so quiet but yet so dark
past stories of horror, to and fro
but can light escape the door?
Looking for the gates once more.

No news, no sounds, no people to watch
the man’s display of drunken upheaval
the woman’s cries made shame delight,
cause the child to commit to flight

I–t–think I knew why I was so sad
and why the neighbor’s hearts sunk so low
could it be the man’s death is the answer?
Could it be the woman’s action is the determinant?


-K.G. Bethlehem

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molecule. (Friday Night’s Poetry Corner #45)



People, people, people this joint here is an example of love at an early stage of being while forming your own person that shapes and shaping by the world. Great poem here called “Molecule” by Levi T. Visit this poet’s page and read other brilliant pieces. Welcome to another edition of Friday Night Poetry Corner #45!!

Originally posted on Relatively Poetic:

I am a molecule of water
attaching easily to all
I exist in states of matter
wherever I may fall

When you love with heat and fervor
I am vaporized, expanding
I fill with ease the greatest space
ever rising, never landing

When you dip to lukewarm temperatures
I condense, a splashing pool
I bathe you, and I mend you
become a liquid, clear and cool

And love, the times you turn away
send blasting chills of cold
I ache and turn to solid ice
and wait to melt, when you I’ll hold.

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