Monthly Archives: October 2021

That Poole Boy

There wasn’t much to go on then
but I’m glad you were my friend

When I kept running
              you kept up with me
              you saved me.

You were music and love and humor
You were intrigue and guidance
You were the high-water mark
          when it felt like I was drowning

There wasn’t much to go on then,
but for a while
                 we made our own paths together
                        and those paths exploded into new routes
           had you not been there, mine may have ended.

                                                                                         You see
There wasn’t much to go on then
but there was you,
             and for that
I would go through it all again.

The Confederacy of Dunces

“I don’t need a doctorate to know
that your facts do not fit with what I think is right”

“The wealthy want what is best for us
why else would they have all the money we helped them earn?”

“The disenfranchised are the real threat
they would kill us all had we not taken all they owned!”

“Poor people are the dregs of life
and when I get rich I’ll put them all in their place.”

“Not everyone needs a living wage
that will just raise the prices for my family to live.”

“Racism died many years ago
we even allowed one of them to be president.”

“Healthcare is a service not a right
Why should I pay taxes for your healthy life style?”

“God gives every cell the right to life
and mothers who abort should be put to death for it.”

“We need religion back in our schools
or else the Jews and the Muslims will brainwash our children.”

“Climate change is a liberal hoax
everything will cool back down once all the ice caps melt”

“They’ve said this before and been censored
but I know they’re right, it’s all over the internet!”

Mannequins

Torn fabric
         threads scattered       to        the          wind
                    reaching out for others
                                 finding


                                                       nothing.



               but reaching

Reaching should be enough
           to overcome deep cuts
                        but it’s not anymore.

         Once we were confidently clothed,
                      but deep cuts make
                                                                    
                                                                    torn

                                                                                              Fabric

          and we are made naked and anxious
                    holding rags
                               acting like that’s going to
                                                                            keep
                                                                                   us
                                                                                     together

Bright Lights and Fast Cars

The infrastructure has collapsed
the time for recourse has elapsed
our hands caked in earthen blood stains
yet the great obelisk remains

The populations drop like flies
while survivors are lulled with lies
the brutal wrest from them the reins
yet the great obelisk remains

The world coddles the scavengers
with an ocean of cadavers
and a roving tempest of flames
yet the great obelisk remains

The soil glitters with fields of salt
cracked crystal sheets shattered with faults
diamond rain over the great plains
yet the great obelisk remains

The air itself breaks weaker bones
coercing dark and morbid tones
coursing out from the earth’s cold veins
yet the great obelisk remains

Victims of an exploited dream
a false sense of purpose and esteem
never to break these fiat chains
yet the great obelisk remains

Let us now reap what we have wrought
all of this will soon be forgot
as existence degrades and wanes
yet the great obelisk remains

Static

The screams
The screams!

They rise like plumes of smoke in the air
shifting sounds of ardent despair
Without words they speak of horrors
of maligned intent beyond comprehension
that sends the mind reeling
with images that want naught else but to break it.
Those who are fool enough to care
will find their heart in disrepair.

The screams!

Their relentless cacophony
permeates the night constantly.
They’ve drowned all pity in endless noise
the corpse of compassion floats amongst the hate
misery picks away at the flesh
leaving only bone to bleach in the sun.
We have but one comradery
to loathe them for their oddity

The screams.

Those souls that have seen the outside
ever in torment will reside.

The Topography

The landscape is painted white with the snow
all the foliage is hiding
waiting for warmer days
to be admired
once more

Once more
the world retires
but the fauna will stay
their food and their will subsiding
navigating a space where nothing grows
finding death, famine and men trading blows
blood stained snow from soldiers fighting

On countrymen were they
ordered to fire
once more
once more

Wrapped in barbed wire
pulled behind tanks to flay
skin from bone in painful dividing
their faces would never again be known
a violence beyond describing
this is the way they play

occupiers

Once more
once more
our times are dire
while we thrive in the fray
the world around us is ending
once more.

Termination

There are many drops such as these
down flights of acute angled stairs
in hollow bubbles beneath waves
in pregnant bass lines at night raves
the errant shoe from a shocked pair.

But, honestly, who cares?
shadows on walls in caves
mean nothing once outside
if that’s where you reside,
though I am not that brave.

I can’t be saved
not from this ride
not to displease
but no one sees
what they’ve denied

So not one soul decried
despite my expertise
when they dropped me out there
without even cab fair
rooted out like disease.