Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Why Hate?

You accuse a poet of inciting hatred
Because he writes a vision of his world
Is like censuring a man reading a newspaper out loud
Of inciting dissidence, violence and catastrophe
Words used to express what you witness
Are not but a verbal photograph of your world



Challenge the reader to see
The world through your words
A poem is only a map to the wonders
Of the human experience

Scream out your epiphanies
Exclaim others transgressions
Bleat fervently your frustrations
Shout from the mountaintop
So that all may become aware

There is more to their
World than the repetitive beat
Of the mindless dribble
Ushering from the mouths
Of oligarchy scum and their minions

Are you so entrenched in your tribal self
That you are blind to truth and oppression? 
Would you ignore the one who reminds you?
Would you, Should you kill the messenger?

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Heat

One hot day just bleeds into another,
like so many slaughtered pigs on an assembly line of death.

The heat ladened evenings choke the mind,
suppressing the mechanism that forms intelligent thought.

Drops of sweat sneak down the back
like newly hatched spiderlings racing away from a cannibalistic parent.

The only sound in the ears; the beating of a heart, the labored breath and an occasional baritone growl from what seemed to be an infinitely empty stomach.

The day trudges on like a defeated army slogging its way through thickening mud.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Compensation

“Why would you do this?”

“You would never understand.”

“Try me”

“You haven’ the capacity.”

“How would you know? You don’t even know me.”

“Nor you me.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Yes, it does”

“But I have kids.”

“So did I.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“You should have thought of that earlier.”

“How could I have known?”

“Compassion”

“And you? Where is yours?”

“You stole it, like you stole my world.”

“Our father who art in heaven …”


“Forget it, he’s not listening anymore.”

Baby in a Drain Pipe

A throwaway generation
Disregards spirit for object
Wish for want, tooled from OCD
Life is an inconvenience, gets in the way of game time
Wisdom of experience forsaken for lulz and memes
Sunshine’s healthy glow traded for 40 inch electro-static discharge in 3D
Sexual elation thrown over for strap on battery operated behemoths and webcams
Intimacy given up for unlimited text plans
Soulless minds trapped in useless information contracts, aging like bad cheese
An infant’s wail echoes through a urban sewer mind
Total Extinction of a species is just an XBOX generation away.



Completed


I am astounded by
How you affect me
I am perplexed by
Those feelings given me
I am influenced by
How your words express
I am ingratiated by
Those smiles you present
I am invigorated by
How you have grown
I am emancipated by
Those words of proclamation
I am defined by
How you are succeeding

Heart Strings

Sweet breathe of life

Escapes my grasp so

Soured from vices of

Anguished dreams given rise

From troubled loves that

Tear at heart strings

Drawn taught and toneless

By life's brutal ballad