the game of kings…

the game of kings

an
augmented reality
game
that uses
devices
devices
that overlay
the virtual experiences
of
kings
on top
of
the real
world
played
on
a multidimensional board
with
glass layers
each layer
containing game pieces
and
each side
representing
one
of the four corners
of
the world
the objective
is
to eventually
dominate
the whole world
through
power and wealth
kings
sit on the top layer
and
may move in any direction
but
cannot be viewed
by
any piece
at any level
thus
device screens
do not reveal
the location
of
any given king
kings
only determine
another king’s moves
by
the resulting effects
at
lower levels
the second level
is called
the legislative pitch
set with
ornately decorated
hollow pieces
that move
in
any direction
depending
on the ante
the king has made
for
any given piece
at
that level
however
antes
may be
secretly
made by other kings
thereby
altering
the movements
of
these mercenary pieces
the third lowest
level
holds a class
of
pieces
in the middle of
the game’s
social hierarchy
including
defenders
of
the crown
or
some
religious
or
political dogma
most importantly
this layer
contains
some queens
that when
properly moved
may be
to sacrificed
to
replace
more pieces
for
this layer
or
the lowest level
the lowest level
is comprised
of
what one could call
peasant pieces
used
to
develop wealth
for
the kings
and
are generally
considered by players
as
replaceable
as
for
the specific
rules
of engagement
they are
quite simple
win
at
any cost

madmen and mortals…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

such a fragile shell
that holds
this thing
called
life
with
the center
as
the soul
how
easily
life shatters
with
the slightest
force
so
it is surprising
how
man
willingly
discards
his most
precious gift
from
the gods
forfeiting
existence
for
the void of vanity
or
the illusion
of
allegiance
some merchants
will
without hesitation
sell the souls
of
others
no matter
the duration
of
their existence
young or old
matters not
as long as
there’s a profit
to be made
traffickers
of inhumanity
tossing aside
the broken lives
as if chaff
in the wind
so it is
that
so many
lives end
some
even before
they’ve begun
for
madmen
rarely see beyond
themselves

 

 

lesser men…

matryoshka

a game
of
cat and mouse
observed
by
buzzards
where
two
of
the same species
are
convinced
via
history
that
one
is
the lesser
but
both
have been
told
that
the other
is
the
lesser
so
in order
to
preserve
the
natural order
of
the universe
one
must be demeaned
and
destroyed
at
every
opportunity
and
to
the victor
nothing
but
more of the same
but
the
carcasses 
belong
to
the
buzzards
who
instigated
the
whole
damn thing
in
the
beginning

a dream we had…

a dream we had...

for a brief
moment in time
we believed
the
dream
could come true
that
our words
could save lives
and
change
the course
of history
but
after all these years
we are still
counting bodies
from
war
and
seeing
women
denied
the rights
to
their own bodies
love
one another
is still
really
just
the lyrics
of
a song
sang
by
a few folks
sipping martinis
at
the club house
a sentimental relic
of
college days
days
when
some of us
watched
our friends
being dragged off
by
the police
some
never
the same person
once returned
from
captivity
some souls
are
perishable
war
rape
and
police batons
can do that they say
just as bullets
can end
life
and when
the white sheets
are replaced
by
dark uniforms
of
blue
or
black
the murders
are
made justifiable
lynchings
without
ropes
nothing has changed
but once
we had
dreams

 

 

conversion disorders…

conversion disorders

what
is the line
between
cruelty
and
kindness
how is it
that
the same people
who are
offered blessings
by
some
are
easily murdered
by
others who
have
no compassion
in
their eyes
just
loathing
sadly
humans
see
what
they believe

 

 

and in the end…

and in the end...

the insanity
that
envelops
the
lust
for power
defies
definition
a madness
that
seeks
to
defy
death
but
death
will come
carrying with it
all
the lives
destroyed
by
one individual
an individual
who
sought
to
conquer
an invisible enemy
one
cloaked
in
the musky darkness
of
eternity
wearing damp robes
that
easily
extinguish
the
light of life
but
who’s
more than willing
to
offer
to
all
fools
a trojan horse
of
infinite power
and
untold wealth

sarcophagus…

sacophagus

a flattering façade
an appealing symbolic life
attracting treasure hunters
beneath the ceremonial wrapping
the rotting flesh of reality

 

 

a regrettable poisoning…

a regrettable poisoning

these things
do
sometimes
happen
and
have been
prescribed
as
an act
of
god
you know
that
old
god willing
stuff
like
god
gives a damn
about
what
happens
on
earth
given
duties
of
the universe
new
stars births
and
such
a more
appropriate criminal
is perhaps
humankind
those arbitrary atoms
bombarding
one another
unable
to control
even
minor reactions
with
one another
but
let’s set
guilt
aside
and
consider
the ingestion
of
poison
poison
clearly labelled
yet
taken
without reservation
so
who should
bear the burden
of
blame
those concocting
notorious
chemical compounds
of
death
or
those refusing
to
read
the labels
which is
just
another case
of
ignoring
the
handwriting
on
the wall
perhaps
we’ll need
another
burning bush
to
validate
the
obvious

 

 

but one voice…

but one voice...

can’t hear
own
thoughts
too much noise
trafficking
from
lies and hate
masking out
voices
in
pain
homeless dreams
some
wrapped
in
the currency
of
war
but
what
can
one voice
do
to rise
above
war’s cacophony
of
misery
though
a simple solution
one
could join
the choir
of
hope
sending forth
words
of
unwavering
belief
in tomorrow
that
grasps
the minds
of
social sinners
like
an old gospel hymn
swaying
the coldest heart
towards
redemption
or
offer up
such a sweet solo
of
truth
so
powerful
that
the walls
of
deception
crumble
into dust
revealing
all
that was hidden
that
my friend
is
what
one voice
can
do
so
rejoice

 

 

no hope orphanages..

MILITARY RELIEF EFFORTS IN HAITI

child of the dead
your name has been lost
soon you will forget
their touch
and
the warmth
of
their words
these muddy fields
and
makeshift tents
are
you new parents
but
they will not embrace you
nor
seek to feed you
now
you alone
must do those things
expect only
more
tears