choices

Duplicity

~

I don’t like writing sad poetry.

It’s not a place I choose to see.

In my world of goodness, all are free,

where faces of children are full of glee.

Hope and happiness is how it should be.

~

Yet pencils ever dull in reality,

so I hone my points, turn’s the key.

Returning I do to the safety of fantasy.

I think that’s best, don’t you agree?

Or is everything escape in poetry?

~*~

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The Track Side of the World

~

Another sun rose on converging tracks

Shedding light on forgotten backs

Graffiti brightens weathered wood and stone

A world rushed past, discarded and alone

~

World’s seem endless, far and wide

Though tracks divide side by side

Yet other sides cannot exist

If they did it would be missed

~

What is missed remains unseen

As does the time and space between

This ride planned doesn’t go everywhere

The straight and narrow’s only halfway there

~

The other half depends on you

All’s seeking direction as we all do

Equals always parallel, horizons curve and bend

All paths end on point, our perch will depend

~*~

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Old: The New Gold

~*~

Titans rise from mounds of trash.

Soon is seen the survivalist stash.

A garbage economy flush in dirty cash.

The mind’s to waste, throats to slash.

~

Industries shuttered and our cities ablaze.

Fields untilled, nil remains to graze.

Warmth reeks, skies awash in the haze.

All’s left to dream of those good old days.

~*~

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Poetic Fiction

~

If you’re in no hurry to go

then I’m in no hurry to stay

I’ll pack up my belongings

and be out by the end of the day

.

You can’t ever keep a job

Or even wash the clothes

Our meals served at the drive-thru

That’s where the money goes

.

The few dollars that remain

Is always spent on ink

The few hours that we share

Always your time to think

.

You lock yourself in a room

There you laugh, scream and cry

While I long for the silence

When one of us will die

.

If not for crumpled notes

Our stove would be always cold

Your hot and chilled emotions

Once steamy have gotten old

.

We haven’t kissed in a week

There’s been no love for a year

I’ve now begun to wonder

If love was ever there

.

Now you say you wrote a poem

That all the world should see

It’s a poem of love and devotion

But this one’s just for me

.

If these words of passion

Are as true as you say

Rumpled sheets await

There’s no need to leave today

.

But if they’re not

as all other times before

My future will unfold

beyond your paper door

~*~

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Own Up

~

Children see a world through eyes that are our own

Blinded to other views until their eyes have grown

Knowledge then divides when education is on loan

Cooperation’s needed to set a civil tone

Problems fester when we all moan and groan

Productive solutions are forever unknown

Fearing that someone will cast the first stone

Waiting for others to throw the first bone

Passing on peace or a big steaming cone

Time’s now for grown-ups to show they’ve grown

Let’s save this place we all see as our own

~*~

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Warz

*

Some hearts warm, some cold,

yet all share a bloody thirst.

Circulating both love and hate,

who’s to shout or shoot first?

.

This darkness of man held in a hand,

yet the voice has never killed.

Though orders cried for more to die,

by others brave and skilled.

.

Organs strewn and heads hewn,

the victors’ lust begins.

Checks cashed then all gets smashed,

the big brass always wins

.

Mothers cry and babies die,

someone wins a pin.

The degree to which this hell’s risen,

is all an unforgiveable sin.

.

Some hearts warm and some are cold,

why can’t we try to neutralize?

Let’s build on our commonality,

returning joy to our children’s eyes.

~*~

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Details

The devil’s in the details
There’s enough to fill a book
Good or bad become a blur
The higher up you look

Faith adorned upon the sleeve
Or chained around a throat
Taking solace in salvation
While giving little note

Somewhere writ “thou shalt not kill”
This would seem to say it all
They’re simple words to live by
If only we’d heed the call

Or pick and choose words to use
Suffice to make a pennant
Rally around on sacred ground
Then rent it to a tenant

Swaddled in our presentation
Is a tolerance for damnation
Defending of a man-made notion
Is this vast imagined nation

With a patting of backs
Preserving of merit
We share the rounds
To spread the tenet

With finite time defining sin
Demanding of others penance
Then timeless regurgitations
Refining of the conscience

These details are the devil
There’s never enough to please
Yet bad and good become more clear
The deeper down one sees

~*~

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