Cross Purpose
At time's crossroads, Reason drowns
in rage, pain,
irradiated rain, treasonous air.
Weary of care, of punishing,
bottomless anger, of sobbing men
robbed of their right to give birth.
Taken from Mama's warmth, from
the cave, to play brave.
And it's ladies' choice as you squirm
in fool's corner.
Such a chore -- kissing at this
and that for a chance to score
the shame, the blame from stuck-out
tongues, the bloody laughter.
"I could bite off that little thing -- make
you squat to pee."
Wired to fight, at any cost,
because, of course, the Cross proclaims
"We're right. They are inherently wrong."
"Those below must be taught to obey
our superior tools, to be broken,
that we may ride."
Against our better fate, our race divided
along strict lines, by difference
nature devised to make us strong.
Final Will
If these be our final days, bleeding out into entropic end
No elite "may we?" can overrule life's yen
to feel fine
while yet there is fine to feel
Feast on the hoarded best; dance well past dawn
Deny requests of war or debt to waste this waning time
It's no thievery to claim our hours, free of robotic clocks,
take whatever's left as a chance to be real --
if the end is nigh, or not
Call and Response
Clinging to the stories we learned at tv's knee
Ensorcelled by those glittering stores lining every street
Sure that might has taken the ground defining rights
Cynically forsaken, belief in heroic knights
We aren't sheep to slaughter, although of bone and meat
Nor cattle to be ordered by our grades of beef
We're children, with our wonder obscured by others' dreams
Chastised not to blunder, to supplicate and bleed
To break from such enchantment, from thrall to All insane
First learn to break the viral binds, vitalize, reframe
Those who lose their souls to religion
Caught up in frames against their better angels
Might, if the spirit so o'ertakes their vision
Come to discern divisive righteousness's dangers
Speak in Peace
Useful communication requires common metaphor.
(Myths forged for tribal survival divide. )
When I feel alive, rooted yet wild, outside of frame
a twirling child, free of security derived from shame
able to rise beyond the schoolyard game of divisive naming
I see within my eyes distant seas and shores,
forest fae blinking in the haze,
journeys rending years into days.
Hear the whistling, touch the swollen fruit,
amazed -- counting down as I tumble.
How do I explain in this tongue we mumble,
barely getting through a random chat that
gives no exit wound to that ache beating inside
to grab a hand, touch your mind, bring to being?
Yet, why would you want to see what I am seeing?
It's only poetry; only curiosity; it's only
miracles of sand, twinkling, breath of fire
combusted glass, twisted into culture, class.
Beauty survives each blast, more adored for her
scars. Allured by her charms, may we doze
and stumble into sweeter reveries.
In sleep, relaxed, uncoiled core may cry in surprise
to be free, awaken realigned.
Speak friend and enter.
We have much to discuss.
At time's crossroads, Reason drowns
in rage, pain,
irradiated rain, treasonous air.
Weary of care, of punishing,
bottomless anger, of sobbing men
robbed of their right to give birth.
Taken from Mama's warmth, from
the cave, to play brave.
And it's ladies' choice as you squirm
in fool's corner.
Such a chore -- kissing at this
and that for a chance to score
the shame, the blame from stuck-out
tongues, the bloody laughter.
"I could bite off that little thing -- make
you squat to pee."
Wired to fight, at any cost,
because, of course, the Cross proclaims
"We're right. They are inherently wrong."
"Those below must be taught to obey
our superior tools, to be broken,
that we may ride."
Against our better fate, our race divided
along strict lines, by difference
nature devised to make us strong.
Final Will
If these be our final days, bleeding out into entropic end
No elite "may we?" can overrule life's yen
to feel fine
while yet there is fine to feel
Feast on the hoarded best; dance well past dawn
Deny requests of war or debt to waste this waning time
It's no thievery to claim our hours, free of robotic clocks,
take whatever's left as a chance to be real --
if the end is nigh, or not
Call and Response
Clinging to the stories we learned at tv's knee
Ensorcelled by those glittering stores lining every street
Sure that might has taken the ground defining rights
Cynically forsaken, belief in heroic knights
We aren't sheep to slaughter, although of bone and meat
Nor cattle to be ordered by our grades of beef
We're children, with our wonder obscured by others' dreams
Chastised not to blunder, to supplicate and bleed
To break from such enchantment, from thrall to All insane
First learn to break the viral binds, vitalize, reframe
Those who lose their souls to religion
Caught up in frames against their better angels
Might, if the spirit so o'ertakes their vision
Come to discern divisive righteousness's dangers
Speak in Peace
Useful communication requires common metaphor.
(Myths forged for tribal survival divide. )
When I feel alive, rooted yet wild, outside of frame
a twirling child, free of security derived from shame
able to rise beyond the schoolyard game of divisive naming
I see within my eyes distant seas and shores,
forest fae blinking in the haze,
journeys rending years into days.
Hear the whistling, touch the swollen fruit,
amazed -- counting down as I tumble.
How do I explain in this tongue we mumble,
barely getting through a random chat that
gives no exit wound to that ache beating inside
to grab a hand, touch your mind, bring to being?
Yet, why would you want to see what I am seeing?
It's only poetry; only curiosity; it's only
miracles of sand, twinkling, breath of fire
combusted glass, twisted into culture, class.
Beauty survives each blast, more adored for her
scars. Allured by her charms, may we doze
and stumble into sweeter reveries.
In sleep, relaxed, uncoiled core may cry in surprise
to be free, awaken realigned.
Speak friend and enter.
We have much to discuss.