As tattered night surrenders to the morning
amidst a bruised and beaten sky.
The hazy heavens weep their misty warning
of love’s intent to pass me by.
The rain, symbolic of my sorrow,
defeats today and steals tomorrow.
Unyielding dreams assault my weary mind
with visions of my deep regret.
I’d reached accord but never had I signed
my name to play, though boards were set.
I leave the game of love intact,
unstung by honor, which I lacked.
I'm stuck in muddy grooves of flaws unbroken,
made by the tracks of time’s machine.
I’m choking on the chunks of words unspoken
allowing silence to demean.
So, safe in armored isolation,
I thus defy my reclamation.
"Why!' The 'why' is irrelevant!
The 'why' is counted for everything,
The Satanic stands for; to bid his.
His soul: aimed at the chaos of humanity.
His nectar is disparity, he harnesses.
He walks and breathes with fervency!
He stands for rebellion, unto which:
He grows bigger and stronger,
Against everything good!
He falsely informs love:
Whereas he is incapable of doing so.
He walks and breathes cunningly!'
Though I walk in the shadows of death;
I shall fear no evil doing unto me.
I am armored; I will be able to stand within.
My battle is hard; his chaos is so strong!
What's this I walk through?
He walks and breathes so cunningly!"
Armored with God, coffee, sunshine
in cold cruel world
Worry and strife
never really leave
They just change
direction and form
When one plant’s watered
another wilts
Your heart no longer safe
once torn
Trouble that’s papered
over with wealth
Set fire
by money and fame
Is a sadness you try
so hard to lose
Hiding re-armored
—and waits to reclaim
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2018)
Prayers descend like acid rain from
oligarch-soaked manchurians, stumping
for elected office, praising hybrid
demigods, passing out vouchers to the
peasants.
A slow rumbling-
part of the night-sounds-of-curfew;
descends like fire ants.
Cleaners of the guilt, hidden in plain faith,
unable or unwilling to walk, feign
blindness, darkness helps.
Cellphone towers only reflect scripted
light, as memories of real sunshine, fade
to black. A good cup of coffee is hard to
find, all the fine beans were swept away
early on, replaced by dancing bears,
politely ignored. Thunderclouds, imagined
in shapes of our founding fathers,
encourage the deluge, slowly ascending.
Underground-
a grim band-of-believers watch (again)
a pirated tape of their favorite '80's movie,
'They Live' from the fabled city called the
new capital in 'The Postman' Minneapolis..
while the tormented sounds of-
plows
scraping overhead, and
hydrants,
bellys full, feeding power washers,
cascade
over hardened
faces.
05/11/14
minneapolis
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Armored Nutschellz
Have you heard about Armored Nutschellz?
It’s undies that can take a punch
Developed for those family jewels
That you simply don’t want to get crunched
Each has multiple layers of “Kevlar”
The maker says they can resist
Multiple shots from a hand gun
You can test them out if you insist
The Army says they will be testing
These “Nutschellz” to see if they hold up
If they do then you can bet soldiers
Will be sporting their own loving cup
If they don’t then I pity the soldiers
Who willingly answered the calls
And let someone else take a shot at
The now defunked poor soldier’s balls
Uncle Mike
Another true story from your favorite Uncle
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