this too shall pass…

this too shall pass

now
don’t take
this
personally
but
all your hopes and expectations
have
no foundation
in history
quite to the contrary
history suggests
that
your optimism
mirrors that
of
those
whose graves
we stand beside today

perhaps a fool’s anger…

perhaps a fool's anger

lay them
side-by-side
sons
and
daughters
of a nation’s pride
place them
in the empty grave
of reason
quench the thirst
of a love one’s sadness
with a communion cup
filled with the vinegar tears
of politicians
laced
with
the blood
of distorted history
come
call out the name
of
your
god
perhaps
there will be
a change
this
time

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an enactment in a common law legal system…

an enactment

the brown bag prophet
has
often told me
that
history
is
the ultimate
political revenge
since
few folks
ever question
what
they’ve been
conditioned
to believe
he says
the good guys
are
the winners
and
the evil forces
of darkness
are
the losers
no matter
how many
innocence
people were murdered
by
the good guys
for
the cause
of
commercial freedom
he adds
that’s why there’s
a statute of limitations
cuz
by the time
you figured out
the lie
there ain’t
a damn thing
you can
do
about it
‘cept
write another
unread poem

Any advertisement on this page that is not directly related to my publications ( see left hand column) is done so without my 

craven images…

copyright 2012 cwmartin

the memory
of you
has been
crated up
into a
plain
wooden box
and
placed
into storage
among
the other
famous
at-any-cost
crowd
your
victorious pose
now
face down
on a concrete floor
staring into
the abyss
of history
and
into the dust
that
defines
us
all

death by belief…

copyright cwmartin 2012

perceived history
provides
the license
to action
enslaved
becomes enslaver
persecuted
becomes persecutor
abused
becomes abuser
murdered
becomes murderer
and so
it is
ordained
and
recorded
throughout
time

pantiles….

digital decoupage cwmartin 2012

she had to defend
her version of history
overlapping lies
offered up to all
who did not recall the truth
a fictional past
provided daily
until the lies became stone
a shrine to self

 

 

 

Sharmishtha honored me with an award…the Amazing Blog…those who know me understand that I rarely accept awards for doing what I love..but this award came from a very special person with heartfelt sincerely…therefore I was not only honored to receive it but to pass it on to an author that continues to amaze me Claudia…so I pass it on to her…a person that I admire for her skills and ability to take the common place and turn it into poetic beauty.

a slight oversight…

Copyright by Original Artist/Google Image

roll out that large
national geographic map
hang it on any wall
throw a poison dart
here’s
what  you’ll find
no matter
where it lands
a country
county
city
or burg
with a mythological history
that excludes facts
of crimes committed
everybody’s
a good guy
except those
narrow minded individuals
who opposed us
us
being anybody
living within the sphere
of the dart’s poison
usually
the dart
lands on a history book
since poison
attracts poison
like magnets
but
that aside
most folks
fail to appreciate
the amount of creative writing
that went into producing
the historical facts
taught to our children
a steady diet of
s’mores  and sugar water
prescribed for weight loss
well it certainly works
on the minds of children
those little atrophied centers
of higher thought
bought those facts
as
real
so off they went
to fight for
well
whatever the history book
told them
they were fighting for

common history…

an unmarked grave
testament
to man’s frailty
and with
all the posturing
of mankind
this will be
his final posture
no one
will bring flowers
the tears
shed that day
will have dried
and been blown
into the sea
and
the dust
will be caught
upon the wind
and carried
into the fields
where new seeds
will be planted
grown
harvested
for the occupants
of tomorrow’s
unmarked
graves

slave auction…

 

stripped naked
every flaw
was revealed
every scar
of promises
not kept
every mark left
by history’s lash
was open for
evaluation
by the buyer
but the flaws
of the buyer
were not revealed
like the history
of a country
whose own flesh
remains cloaked
in a myth
of freedom