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Ptsd Ii

How to stay sane in creeping madness with an alcohol haze sound of music not so much to dance as to seduce in herpes games while pedophiles play in the school yard and another recall of leaden toys or cars or red raw meat brings disease yet to be born, as an unspeakable ebola creeps across a continent of blackness unregistered in our collective racist psyche. Post white trauma within apartheid Louisiana stress to keep up a mindless cult of consumerism while neighbors die in overcrowded hospitals numbed to another mass shooting that deflects our mind from torture no torture doublespeak and the military industrial complex breeds addicts and paid assassins. On and on in our disorder we travel raising religious crutches to a defiled and defaced Creation with an Any God having the worst human attributes for revenge and self-righteous justification as daily the detritus of our suberbs spills garbage into an eternal landfill. Stop! Stop! We can't breathe anymore! its post traumatic stress disorder ... we are being ordered into disorder, herded into chaos and madness and all the troops have yet to come home to roost.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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Date: 8/15/2009 3:24:00 PM
Ruby, fantastic write. Powerful and right on target, so to speak. The last stanza slams the already too real into the the final point. Thanks for your comment on my Gossip poem. I was looking for your gossip poem when I saw the title of your poem. My Vietnam Significant Other is struggling with PTSD.. Thank you for sharing this.
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Book: Shattered Sighs