caged humans with beasts devouring their souls once walked our streets as school children laughing with peers listening to teachers with the same wide-eyed dreams of tomorrow as all but soon so very soon those dreams became the rusty stairwells leading to rooms of decaying thought where prostitute hopes lying on beds of desperation festering with bedsore dreams were offered a new way of living with a simple price of one’s soul
it is so easy to let the darkness swallow hope the weight of despair seems impossible to lift and the darkness hides all the good the bad the living the dying all vanish in the darkness you don’t even have to ignore what’s going on it’s all hid in a dark veil of ignorance just sit quietly and wait for death like everyone else on the planet who has given in to apathy
hands pressed against a cold window frame staring into the darkness recalling those below ancient decks with manacled hands and feet the smell of rotting flesh the sound of rusted chains reverberating a legacy of pain and sorrow wondering now about the future of those bound to tenements asking if their chains are not the same rusted chains of despair that still grasp and cut deep into the skin of humanity drawing new blood that mingles with the dried blood of their forefathers a thought interrupted by the rattle of windows as a train passes on the edge of the have and have nots
fragmented promises lie on the road yesterday’s despairs such fine confetti for a parade of fools passing down narrow cobblestoned alleys of imagined liberties to a destination advertised by online chatrooms as the new eden where free apples are distributed by secret police for the consumption of weary travellers on this monopoly board road to freedom
her tears bleed into satin sheets open wounds of despair were hidden beneath airbrushed flesh but now with cameras gone lights off she is alone with her fears youth once her lover has left her with the lingering taste of fame upon her lips but youth has found a new starlet to caress so she is left alone in the night of day
so it ‘s outside your door waiting for you to open wide and let the new year in but you hesitate what if the new year shackles you to your old fears and your old despairs what if if you don’t open the door will you die or flow into the abyss or maybe purgatory where you’ll get out for good behavior maybe just maybe it really doesn’t matter what you do
rewind
set before them
the same table of despair
from last year
serve up
cotton candy promises
with multicolored layers of
slow recovery
increased employment
low interest rates
gradual withdrawal
place before them
a full plate of red herring
bowl games galore
entertaining news stories
of rescued dogs
from flooded hillsides
while homeless children
find only society’s coal
in their stockings
fill their glasses
with the sweet wine of delusion
so that they will make merry
while french kissing
under the mistletoe
humanity’s
corpse
where shall we place the grave
the one that will hold our hopes
shall we place it beside
the one for our dreams
or near the lies
we’ve been told
perhaps we shall place it here
within sight of our
yesterday’s sorrows
so we can visit
the hate
that was planted
and blossomed
with our despair
During the next few days, I will be on holiday…yes again…so I will be posting very few comments on your blogs…however I shall continue to post new poems here and hope that you will enjoy them. Until then, cheers!
dawning of the new day
let the battle drums
proclaim this day
that hope shall not be denied
today in the armor of truth
hope shall stand
before the gates of hell
and deny death
its rewards for deception
standing as a man
who will not bow before
the arrogance of inhumanity
nor bleed tears of despair
hope shall march into
the spiritual realm of evil
and free the tortured souls
lingering with self-doubt
on their crosses of fear
it shall raise its banner of faith
high in the air
regaining all that was lost
to spirits of greed
and hate
letting no man
nor beast
stand in its way
for this day
victory
will not be
a dream
This poem represents my second response to the third challenge series between Jade and I. This challenge is somewhat different in that the prompt is now an audio prompt. Each poet provides the other with five instrumental songs (so that the song’s words do not interefere with the poet’s) from which the poet is to write a poem. Jade has written her first response which can be found here.
like every
false god
before him
his words
were engraved
onto the obelisk
of his pride
a monument
of self-indulgence
placed
in the desert
of despair
where the sun
and winds
of truth
wore away
the words
leaving only
a bare stone
broken apart
by those
who followed
to pave
the road
beneath
our feet
