raised white…

pay no attention
to how mirrors color you
although you’ll be judged
by what pigment others see
pretend it’s not a factor

 

replicas…

wrapped in a comforter
of
memories
lying
in bed
head buried
in
pillows
of
what could have been
day passes
into
tomorrow’s night
when
nothing changes
outside
the world
ignores
all human tragedy
as if
watching
an old rerun
and
perhaps
that is the case
history
repeating
don quixotes
we all

 

the book of dying 3:4…

in death’s darkness comes the light
all is reveal the pain inflicted
the hands nailed the screams unheard
pleas for help denied and ignored

 

as children die…

from beneath the wall
streams of blood started flowing
passers-by looked down
then stepped over the warm blood
their evening meal was waiting

 

dividend check…

 

you
ignore
your part
in
the slaughter
for
you cannot
hear
the captive-bolt gun
nor
feel
the confinement
of
the chute
pressing
against
your
skin

 

diagnosis code r41.84…

now
i’m not saying
there’s
any truth
to this
but
when
i was young
the
old folks
talked about
being
born
with a veil
over
your eyes
meaning
you could
see
spirits
and such
but
i’ve
never
bought into
the
i see dead people
kind
of thought
but
i must admit
i did have
a few
things happen
that
well
rattled
my cage
but
being
an educated fellow
i knew that
any mental door
to
spirits
or
anything else
could be closed
employing
freud
or
some other
psychological guru’s
mumble-jumble
and
i could
become
like
everyone else
in
this nation
denying
the death
and
destruction
before me

 

cancellation of travel plans…

cancellation of travel plans

no angels
on high
proclaiming
what to star
to follow
nor
yellow brick road
leading to oz
just putrid city street
lined with vacant lots
vacant lots
planted with the cast-offs
of society
this is
the new way
found in every city
for mumbai
to chicago
ocean to ocean
waves of derelict souls
ignored
and brought
to the boiling point
when they
should’ve been kept
refrigerated
now
the rancid consequence
of ignorance
takes it toll
go ahead
call the police
they aren’t coming
these streets
are too
dangerous
for
armed men
best that
you
never arrive

holographic images…

holographic images

these children you see
homeless hungry and alone
are to be ignored
their fate is not yours
nor that of your dear children
no need to look up
finish your coffee
catch the downtown train to work
you’ll feel better then
we have really tried
to make them invisible
but their holograms
for moral reasons
reappear from time to time
not to worry friend
winter vacation
is at hand so forget them
have another drink
give us a moment
to erase their visual file
from your memory
they’re a hologram
nothing more than an image
that somehow can bleed

exposition park …

digital decoupage cwmartin

carefully
placed lies
on the edge
of
your reality
keep
your sanity
intact
but
leave you
balanced
between
heaven
and
hell
a no man’s land
for the soul
where
even the slightest
display of kindness
may result
in
unexpected
consequences
so
you’ve decided
it’s best not
to show
you care
staring
past
the starving children
on the street
while
eying
a new
ipod