in your moment of regret…

the tomb has been sealed
only a memory’s left
no words can be heard
no old promises fulfilled
as they say you had your chance

 

 

inconclusive bullet results…

here’s the point my friend
when you sleep with the devil 
the devil’s child’s spawned

 

 

discovered daydreamer..

when my dreams and thoughts
intersect during the day 
think not a madman
but one avoiding death’s stare
into his day’s existence

 

 

pro-lifers …

some folks won’t let go
of wanting or being in
a state owned harem

 

 

king george’s court…

there’s some confusion
’bout who when and where we are
this ain’t no england
and we ain’t no one’s subjects
but boston harbor’s still there

state of the nation…

it’s a police state
goose-stepping towards yesterday
corporate greed mandates
your share of national wealth
but it’s morally bankrupt

behavioral statistics…

an algorithm…
the illusion of freedom
preprogrammed humans

 

and then we were old…

just a short story
with multiple characters
that leaves you hanging
about the various plots
since it ends so abruptly

 

 

in a moment of weakness…

to thou
who cut the hole
in my paper cup
just as things
were looking up
sending me
tumbling down
with a thud
to
the ground
with a most
unpleasant sound
words from my lips
that
should not be heard
by man or beast
but nonetheless
they were uttered
and then
i saw
an old priest shudder
and
even a butterfly flutter
with wings changing
from
white
to
pink
oh that i could
recall
those words
but reverse blessings
do have their place
especially when they’re
in your face

the room…

we rent this space
occupying it briefly
but everything
in the room
is ours
from
the furnishings
to
random thoughts
even
the broken dreams
scattered
throughout
the years
are
ours
so it seems strange
that we cannot share
this
small space
with whom
we choose
those
who pretend
to be our landlords
keep insisting
that
their rules
must
be followed
rules
designed
for their pleasure
and
their pleasure
is
power over others
but
we
pay the rent