The Chloerination Of This World Poem by Paul Andrew Bourne

I sat beneath the heavens
in a garden of magnificent bliss
just contemplating what is
what is
in a pensive mood
seeking to understand everything,
I'm marveled by what is below the heavens
seeing its beauty, vanity and creation
that was weaved together with such precision and splendour
then my mind crosses to the other side
I observed a misery in man, simple yet so profound
people who obliterate others for the sake of vanity
could it be jealousy, could it be pride, could be it hatred
or is it money's prize
that makes them blossom into this selfish monster
I dreaded the answer
but it's craftsmanship of guile for the subtle -
to fool the elect,
to trample the innocent,
to kill the competitors
a witchcraft they hold lofty to their bosom
a feat with which they master so well
The ‘Chloerination' of this world -
bitterness for anything different and special
outside of their grasp


I sat beneath the heavens
in a garden of magnificent bliss
contemplating what is
what is
in a militant mood
seeking to understand everything,
why ‘The Chloerination of this world' has been
for so long
there was no answer
but a ghost brought reassurance
that life is a complex maize of everything including guile
I felt to its knees
I held the ghost in despair,
we tussled for I while
until it had become another day
I wanted answers
It wanted to disappear, I would have not of this
Our garments become tattered and spoilt
by the confrontation
he became hoarse,
but I wanted an answer
I had to interpret this act of viciousness
but the ghost disappear in the heavens
despite my cat like grasp


I sat beneath the heavens
in a garden of magnificent bliss
contemplating what is
what is
in a puzzled mood
seeking to understand everything,
yet knowing nothing
as The ‘Chloerination' of this world is a secret
that will never be told
but it is real,
a phantom of this world,
that will linger til there is newness