Posted on

A Pale Horse

Dystopia

They dance with the idea
it consumes them wholly
wrought from ancient fear
of what they thought was holy

The rich move them like pawns
and laugh at their red deeds
then a fearsome day soon dawns
and their anger makes us bleed

Lies and hunger and a sense
of loss and falling down
the talking heads talk nonsense
about their stolen crown

They follow blindly and with glee
they chant and curse and sing
they smash and kill and plea
for praise from a would-be king

The center holds for one last stand
the guardians beat back the horde
they will return as they had planned
to commit what some abhorred

Some bolder hand will hold their reins
the broken veil falls from our face
the death’s head move for sordid gains
a triumph of a darker grace

So thus our city on a hill
shining for those with lifted eyes
crumbles into rubble still
just a shambles in disguise

Posted on

Convictions

chilling

I collect, the withered soul-husk said,
my grievances, peeves, and spleen.
Some people yet live, others are dead,
but my dislikes are evergreen.

Are you never wrong, I asked hollow-eyes
for their mood I could not understand.
It is simple, they said, there is never surprise
for I make up my mind beforehand.

My collection of foes and adversaries
the dark-shadowed speaker opined,
is in lists and logs and cemetaries,
newer members are easy to find.

But what of your friends and relations,
I questioned the hard-hearted shell.
They said that folk’s feeble narrations
contradicted all they knew so so well.

There’s no need to excuse any whinery
from people or even hear them out.
If you have beliefs fully binary,
said the wraith-head, it removes any doubt.

I was going to ask about love,
and sympathy seasoned with trust.
To my horror, their eyes turned above,
and they thereupon fell into dust.

Posted on

Passages

Passages

What’s present is present
And past is past.

Too few todays
And less days
In the future.

So much sorrow
It’s hard to measure.

Posted on

Immolation

Immolation

This is a poem I never wanted to write.
Idiocy on display forces my hand.

This is how great nations die
Self-absorbed citizenry believing the hype
That their own person desires are more important than
The good of the nation as a whole
A failure of education
And of civility
The stupidity of wanting
Life without consequence
Talking heads spewing
And the gullible rolled up as fodder
by those taking and faking sides
The people act without knowing
Thermador, the Bonfire of the Vanities

Pray for a Phoenix rebirth