Tic, Tic, Tic…

When values are charismatic
and thought becomes plutocratic,
participation is devoid.
Then hardship is systematic.
~
When this world seems dramatic
and our head’s full of static,
anger’s then employed.
And hate becomes pragmatic.
~
When life, it seems erratic
and joy becomes sporadic,
worry fills the void.
Then the gloom is traumatic.
~
When time itself is problematic
and the future’s enigmatic,
trust is then destroyed.
And solitude becomes symptomatic.
~
But when we are diplomatic
and compassion’s automatic,
violence we avoid.
Then love is democratic.

~*~
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Bursting at the Seems

The Holiday’s behind us,
a new year has begun.
The world it seems in turmoil,
why can’t we live as one.
~
The climate seemingly haywire,
continent’s now ablaze.
Glacier’s melting into the seas,
but to some it’s just a phase.
~
Leaders seem oblivious,
striving only for your vote.
Sycophants follow blindly,
getting screwed while they gloat.
~
War now seems inevitable,
missiles flying everywhere.
Pinheads pushing buttons,
could this be our final year?
~
Do I seem pessimistic,
or are things as they seem?
Maybe it’s time to wake up,
this ain’t no F’n dream.

~*~
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The Fragrance of Fickle Follies

Where jester’s king and knights a daze,
sunsets fade to a mushroom haze.
In castles walled the future’s stalled,
the heat of the moment is to forever scald.
~
When dollars found is sense lost,
we’re all to share the eventual cost.
For horizons lured never reached,
minds obstructed always breached.
~
Yet an open mind like and open gate,
frees the fears, ignorance and hate.
And whilst moats are filled from the waste within,
their funny stench is where their ends begin.

~*~
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Check, Please!

The writing’s on a wall that’s yet to exist.
An empire crumbles for the shallowest of tryst.
With ignorance and spite winning the day,
our sky overhead turns blue to gray.
~
Made up beliefs distort the goal,
wishing for heaven but digging a hole.
A nation’s torn and the world’s to follow.
Easy solutions are always hollow.
~
Arrogance shines when senses dulled.
Kings are spawned when pawns are lulled.
Rooked again by another’s sin,
digits lose but the commas win.
~
A billion reasons just a handful knows,
only time will tell how this story goes.
I hope someday to write a happy end,
when the traitor’s torn, then to mend.

~*~
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Spaceshots

A coal fired space force; I hear is in the works.
A test flight’s needed, let’s send some jerks.
It can be its creator with lil Mikey by his side.
I’ll gladly pack lunch for their long ride.
Cozy in their ark, endlessly they’ll float.
Lost in space, the pair can forever gloat.

~*~
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