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       Adam's Earth, p.1

           Edward E. Rochon
Adam's Earth


  Edward E. Rochon

  * * * * *


  Adam's Earth

  Copyright © 2014 by Edward E. Rochon

  Thank you for downloading this eBook. This book may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, unless prior permission is given by the author.

  Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  Some Other Works by the Author

  Parody Parade

  Collected Poems I

  Golden Age Essays

  Golden Age Essays II

  Golden Age Essays III

  Reading Material

  * * * * *

  Table of Contents

  Title Page


  Father Adam

  Mother Eve

  The Great Sorrow

  Vindication by Ignorance

  Solomon's Error

  Land Eternal

  Hollywood Divine

  About the Author


  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust! Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me? Pimps and whores, witches and bitches, fraud and deception, lust blowing through the infernal grove, such is the state of planet Earth. When the wind blew over the darkened abyss, when all this came about, what light portended this? What burning apocalypse sanctioned this horror of flesh and mirth extracted out of pain like the extraction of an abscessed tooth? The relief of grief cannot justify this. Begone demon world of the possessed that makes folly an endeavor, grief the road to wisdom and wisdom a vice, and virtue folly.

  He who hates pain most, endures pain best. Let those who make a virtue of suffering go down to the pit. May they never rise again. Let them drink their virtue of vice to the dregs of the abyss forever. Back to Table of Contents

  Father Adam

  Father of mine, father of earth

  Through all the days of thy sad life

  A millennium or so's mirth

  Lost to time for sake of thy wife.

  Does it matter beyond the grave

  Forgiven or forgotten now?

  And was it just that you were brave

  Like fierce boars fighting for their sow?

  Tell me father true and sincere

  What was it like to live those years

  With thy traitor wife once so dear

  Company for a thousand years?

  To sin not but tainted by flesh

  Flesh shared, grief shared on woman's breast

  The suckled fount of thy death fresh

  On that dawn of thy birth, God's rest

  The day next, but your restless nights

  Fitful sleep, less deep than when she

  From thy breast, extracted delights

  God drew, for what true purpose, He?

  God's footprint, plain for men to see

  But his justice lost in deep fog

  The dark mist chills to the bone he

  Who ponders these things, this dark bog

  Where the hell hound howls in the night

  And the witch's curse plagues man still

  When men leery of the hound's bite

  Seek rest atop the fateful hill

  Back to Table of Contents

  Mother Eve

  Mother of life, source of seeing

  Tree of wisdom and tree of life

  Light a pyre; burn her dark being

  Truth burns the witch, burns the false wife

  What bitter irony is Eve

  The second count, even digit

  How odd she is, how cruel her weave

  Of death that makes the child fidget

  Uneasily upon her lap

  Her weary arms, her chafed teats' fire

  Portends a hell, as much as nap

  In cool of day and child's desire

  What life's in clay, none is there found

  The spirit breath reveals the source

  Not air but soul makes life abound

  There is the thought, and there the force

  Soul of my soul, kindred feeling

  Of life, not of death in the flesh

  For “the flesh availeth nothing”

  Said he at cost of blood and flesh

  Demon woman, dark succubus

  Suckle and die at wisdom's breast

  That truth may live in you and us

  Spit out the demon seed and rest

  Rest upon the golden bough pressed

  Low with the fruit of life that heals

  The serpent's poison seed though dressed

  In knowledge, fateful, souls he steals

  Through ignorance of truth and life

  Of light and hope and purity

  Where virtue dwells and where the knife

  Of the circumcised heart's city

  Glistens as Excalibur's lie

  Never did but poisoned apples

  Of malice deceived you and die

  And fortune lured you where grapples

  She-devils for your soul entombed

  In death's womb and your life consumed

  With grief and lust and the promise

  Of false hope and rebirth and this

  Life through deception, joy through fraud

  Without husband and without God

  And your spouse but a mere lapdog

  And God upended, just a great Dog

  Back to Table of Contents

  The Great Sorrow

  Man a stranger in his own world

  The nations demon possessed wraiths

  Children of the Whore whose unfurled

  Scarlet flag flies o'er many faiths

  That an innocent man is blamed

  In fury redder than that flag

  Of shame on the tower once named

  Babel where foolish masons drag

  Bricks and mortar still fired in shame

  Though shameless proud, insolent slaves

  Of harlotry and fraud rename

  Vices virtue honest men knaves

  Call sound logic superstition

  Delusion truth, truth delusion

  Found wealth on the poor's perdition

  And rule in state through confusion

  How the tormenters' stings and taunts

  Instill fretful confusion here

  Save for that certain truth that haunts

  Man's inner soul, the sad recourse

  Never forget to hate when comes

  The thug and priest and cur to whet

  Cruelty and perverted lust and sums

  Of greedy thirst for loot to bet

  On fortune's wheel of villainy

  It is no sin to hate the vile

  But is sin not to revile the

  Unjust foes with all thy fierce bile

  He who hates not, loves not

  Love the sinner, love sin

  Love the repentant heart

  That the just cause may win

  Unfurl the indignant heart high

  Of man in his glory unbowed

  With fraud and lies and heavy sigh

  Till judgment day rise like the cloud

  Made red with the light of daybreak

  Peels of thunder joyous and free

  From fear of God's wrath and to break

  Our shackles, lightening bolts strikes thee

  On shackled wrists and shackled feet

  Into shackled minds bolted shut

  By fear and ignorance replete

  With lust's allure and carnal rut

  Not that the world is free but just

  Freedom without justice is vice

  Just forbearance is apt lest lust

  Free itself with death as the price

  Back to Table of Contents

  Vindication by Ignorance

  I did a bad thing and I don't know why

  Did it in my youth and I don't know why

  Did some more bad things and I don't know why

  Thinking about it sometimes makes me sigh

  God did bad things to Job and Job don't know why

  God did lots of bad things to Job. Why? Why?

  God had a bet with the devil; that's why?

  Life is a game many say with a smile

  Life is a game many say with a sigh

  I think that might be why I did bad things

  I've thought that before, and the rule of things

  Is do on to others before they do...

  You know how it goes, golden rule of games

  And we must be one of the gang in games?

  It's not cruelty; it's just the way you play

  Except it is cruelty, the gang and games

  Then how could you believe that, errant knave?

  I was a kid, and some bad things aren't that...

  You know, bad; stealing a pair of pliers?

  Pliers lead to airplanes and killing too!

  Well you don't think of that, airplanes, killing

  When you steal the pliers; I'm ignorant

  You see; yes that's it, that more than willing

  To killing; it's chilling; what about God?

  Job said, “Why God, why, why, oh why allow this?”

  God said, “Shut up, you're ignorant, son of man.”

  And so God and I have the same excuse

  I'm ignorant excuses God and I

  Or does it? it does on my part says I

  I can't speak for God; he's smarter than me

  And I don't like the way the world is run

  But am too stupid to run it myself.

  Back to Table of Contents

  Solomon's Error

  Our tomes of errant verse portend the curse divine

  Pages turned but falling leaves for memory's fire

  Here and gone, wisdom turned to folly like fine wine

  To vinegar to cleanse the decay of death's mire

  The rotting bog preserving death or the grave

  Worm eaten dissolution and corroded stones

  Erasing monikers of the dead that engrave

  Our cities of the dead where dwell our rotting bones

  Not much memory does wisdom make its mark here

  Forgetfulness of error, vice and filth of mind

  Where truth as a flower takes root, a garden clear

  In the clearing of the mind set free to unwind

  A seine of lies, the tangled web of sweet deceit

  Turned bitter poison in its time like our fine wine

  Vinegar would be sweet by contrast when we meet

  At judgment day when our schemes and plots entwine

  About us as winding sheets and binding cords fit

  To our crimes and folly, prisoners of justice

  Shall we ever see light again but hell's surfeit

  Of burning refuse of trash, some hope of hospice?

  Let us listen up here and now, and leave the past

  Page of memory lost to time again and again

  To hear now rather than to read later aghast

  At past crimes, blind to present travesty and pain

  Better five apt truths now than hundreds of proverbs

  Germane to troubles not at hand from other lands

  This weariness the preacher knew but blind to curves

  On his winding journey took no heed of remands

  God placed on such misdeeds, he veered from the straight road

  His kingdom unraveled while the winding sheet wound

  About the souls of his court and people to goad

  The stubborn heart to turn back from perdition bound

  Back to Table of Contents

  Land Eternal

  Cheated of life and land, home and hearth and justice

  By corrupt tower builder, traitor to his own

  Hypocrite stepfather, orphan's curse, a hostess

  Of death your stepmother, better left on your own

  Cherokee nation, your own shamans' wiles deceive

  Weakened you, possessed you, left you weak and lame

  To wickedness profane, betrayed to demon Eve

  Possessed and so dispossessed of all but your name

  Lift your hand to the moon and behold your own hand

  Your shaman's lies will not change the vision there seen

  The hand of man and nothing more in any land

  The nations are demon possessed cursed and unseen

  Hiding behind blood spilled and flowing through your veins

  Brothers kill brothers, family the first suspects

  Of murder, and most theft the inside job points vanes

  In the winds of war and crime back where truth inspects

  As thick as heathens, as thick as thieves, evil winds

  Despoil the land for cruelty's sake and greed unbound

  By light of day, by dint of truth; for evil wins

  In darkness, till Adam's clarion calls resound

  Land eternal, eternal man return this land

  To man again and the vampire empire vanquish

  Life is not a game where umpires reign and remand

  The law is farce; just men reign here or we languish

  In cruel misery awaiting our violent end

  Whether by sword or slow poison or arrow's flight

  The straight road the evil one must perforce to bend

  Lest men take back this earth and he flee from our sight

  Back to Table of Contents

  Hollywood Divine

  Sophocles they say was the cheeriest man

  On the streets of Athens, fatal city

  Heathen wiles, fraud and lechery to fan

  The flames of lust and of depravity

  How the priests love fate, eternal too late

  Too late to hate, to resist, to abate

  The satyr lust, the symposium bait

  That enthralls men to the lie of vain fate

  Religion as a show, and sports events

  Curtails virtue behind the curtain veil

  Of dissimulation and so prevents

  Life as truth immanent and pure, a tale

  Well worth the telling and more worth the hearing

  Hollywood wizard's wand of ignorance

  Sex and violence to no purpose or thing

  Worth the telling much less worth forbearance

  Holy Wood, redwood, ancient of days past

  And future dreamer of dreams and visions

  Repelling the pest of vice as cedar

  Sanctified the holy apparitions

  Between the cherubim and mercy seat

  From dark clouds thunder peeled in betrothal

  As on Horeb: Why the threats and conceit

  Of chosen ones, chosen priests and offal?

  The veil is drawn, the curtain rent in twain

  The show ends the lesson begins anew

  Lest it be all in vain, prattle insane

  Speak to the man and not the crowd you knew

  Art is from the soul and soul speaks to soul

  Each soul makes the torrent crowd roar as waves

  Crashing against the rocks of the sea shoal

  The crowd is vain as the eye portal saves

  The artist from celebrity ashes

  Eyes without a face, Idol of disgrace

  Fans fires of fancy, hopeless backlashes

  Killing lover and beloved and the race

  Make your pay by bestowing grace at first

  On yourself, improving your worth to self

  A model of art to the artless thirst

  For self-worth by art for man's sake, not pelf

  Vampire city, tinsel town nightmare shame

  Music of crime, boulevard of deception

  Hooker-ville, cinematic pimp fame

  Sin no more, let life be your conception

bsp; Back to Table of Contents


  Other Works by the Author

  (Available online)

  Golden Age Essays

  Golden Age Essays II

  Golden Age Essays II

  About the Author

  Back to Title

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