if they ever had a life…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2012

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

stress reaction…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2011

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

chains…

 

Modified Google Image

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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

board game…

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

fading…

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

options…

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

happy new year…

 

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

a proper plot….

 

Photograph by CWMartin

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!

armageddon…


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

let us tread down his life…

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