Category: Poetry

Our high parody burns while super-heroes play fiddle.
The hopeful rich wail with privilege, “This can’t be the middle!”.

As tensions between classes become ever more molten…
The proletariat seek safe spaces to revolt in.

Each siloed caste level’s armed & strapped with their safeties off.
While the bubbled entitled read through hard facts with a scoff.

Truth & perspective, conflated or switched into true lies.
Not knowing the difference is how democracy dies.

I pen this not to judge or to our divisions speak down.
Just trying to make sense of the senseless hate going round.

Many swords you handle in life cut with both their edges.
Some for life, some for death & some for trimming the hedges.

Most would use as plow shears; if neighbors weren’t armed to the teeth.
Whilst the world seems afire, peace is desired beneath.

Still, while we think in black & white, ignorant of spectrum…
We’ll be lost in hubris vain; without a single breadcrumb.

Seen from either side, a blade seems the ficklest of things.
It has no view or voice, its user’s wail is all it sings.

Yet, humans seek out edges; blind to the blood included.
In the name of new frontiers, we choose to be deluded.

The Gossamer Filament 
of a Space-Age militant; 
is a burden physically borne.

The galactic regiment’s 
murderous impenitent; 
are to mastery of mankind sworn.
-
The lie of freedom woven, 
at star map’s edges cloven; 
the truth of freedom’s what is owned.

Earth was colonized, then Mars…
sped ahead & mined the stars; 
absorbing everything we’ve known.
-
Hid by dark in blackest sea,
the augmented poor are free; 
still stamped with tech, but off the grids.

Moors where matter has no rules…
free to be villains or mules; 
just microns past where flags plant bids.
-
Atoms wild, like our old west, 
shorten life & shrink the best; 
but life yet lived where charts short out.

Defiant from birth to death,
radiation coats each breath;
though they’re drawn free without a doubt.
-
Killed by time or their equal,
not part of Earth: the sequel;
living’s rough & ruddy & cold.

They’ve no concept of aging,
nor military staging;
only sparks…brilliant, brief & bold.

I’m lost without you & I’m lost with you…maybe I’m just lost.
That’s the bravery of truth & maybe “lost” is what life costs.

Every person you love in the world is a ticking bomb.
Perpetually detonating each single chance of calm.

Sure as I am of the sum I feel, whenever I see you…
I’m equally aware, you & I will never add to two.

I see your life unfold in snaps like chapters in a book.
I’ve long since stopped submitting film for consideration’s look.

What I’ve lost, earned & made’s too precious to splay for the masses.
Words are all I’ll share with thee; writ upon digital glasses.

I can feel it again through the window pane…
The heat of your rays lost in winter & rain.

You’re burning the side of my face’s pale hide…
As, towards the surface, you fight freezing tide.

Surge past the gray palls as the final flake falls…
End my sentinel watch over live screen walls.

Get your rainbow of oils & golden foils.
Paint brilliant anew upon blank canvas soils.

Tease out warm beauty, your ultimate duty…
Maddeningly fecund, rotten & fruity.

Yes, weeks yet still cold as the season grows old;
But I can feel spring ride in on rays of gold.

I am contradiction incarnate.
Sapphire’s cold blue & hot blood garnet.

Conceived in fire & hewn from ice.
Frothed with anger & soulfully nice.

I bend to kiss every new forehead.
Poised for a gut kick for what is said.

Demanding of all, honesty-wise.
Yet, dare not steal my day-to-day lies.

Surely, I’m glad that I’m what you read.
Still, I’d write; so, I wouldn’t say “need”.

Every breath I take I host a killer.
This is not another gothic thriller.

Nature seems absurd & science cruel.
Brain & body in a constant duel.

My weathered mind’s survived torturous strife.
My body…cage & captor of my life.

Yet, still I rattle with rigor & rage.
Ever seeking weak spots; where, war I’ll wage.

All told, might just loosen bars for the next…
Still, I’m always free inside of my text.

Do you put in thoughtful effort; or is your effort afterthought?
No judgement or complaint…only you know what it is that you ought.

Do you know what it is to feel more tolerated than enjoyed.
How do you express your love in words & what tools have you employed?

Do you really listen at all; or do you just wait for your turn?
Listening remembers who they are & the things for which they yearn.

Do you plan new yous every year without a second of review?
How’d you play your part in recent past…maybe add that to the brew.

Best is only better when you make new effort all of the time.
Perhaps, reflect on your lesser moments; when singing “auld lang syne”.

“Camps” in rhetoric’s grimy air.
The few new safe do rightly scare.

What’s truly free when it’s parsed out?
Is gratis air breathed without clout?

We reclaim slurs they’ve always used.
Rebrand, disguise as drag; excused.

Tradecraft was how we had to live.
Spies for love without hearts to give.

Not much safer than we were then.
Viewed subversive by faith drunk men.

The Bible doesn’t have our backs.
They tout that god’s what D.C. lacks.

Zeal’s minority toxic rules.
Resist or flee; our lonely tools.

Can’t we ever stop cannibalizing…
Bombing & warring & terrorizing?

Harming each other with our ignorance…
Choosing the dark over deliverance.

Favoring blindness to any new light…
Hating ourselves & resenting our sight.

Pitted & pocked by resisting good sense…
Undernourished by stale indifference.

Consumed with beating illusory tides…
Rarely accepting that life has no sides.