He’s together now, they say,
turned out, free to walk the street;
adult child turned out to play
amid grey walls of concrete
streets strewn with disposed joys,
the stench of human fluids.
Bozos wave their lethal toys;
aging goths, pseudo druids,
faces lit by flashing screens.
promenading, zombie-dead
watch desperate dancing teens,
nature’s lemmings, AI lead.
He’s together now, He’s told,
so discharged, they need the bunk;
adult child thrown in the cold
amid barely walking drunk
searching, seeking that which numbs
the pain, soul-crushing shame.
Left to beg for others’ crumbs
he just has himself to blame
they say, go scare up some work.
he does, then try as he might
he’ll catcall some guy a jerk,
end up in another fight.
DISCHARGE
I care, I search, for that deserved retribution
A forgiveness that has for so long, been due
It is only right and fair that I might live again
Out of this vile place, and be declared sane
Nobody knows about me what is really true
If rejected once more I’ll find a final solution
Time marches on but the story doesn't change.
Innocent lives being taken by a person whose deranged..
Last weekend in Pa. it was our state police, one is still
critical, and the other is now deceased..
The unstable shooter is also now gone.
Will this ever stop? What keeps going so wrong?
This tragic story truly rings home for me.
I had a person with mental health struggles in my family.
Psychiatrists rely on the pharmaceutical industry and
prescribe new medications that alter patients' brain chemistry.
Family members are often leery to commit, because our mental
hospitals discharge the patient still unfit, and they are left to
deal with the brunt of it.
At home, these families struggle to keep things in control.
Many times that stress alone will take a major toll.
How many more peacekeepers?
How many more innocent lives is our society willing to sacrifice?
Throw away the thoughts that make
you sad, they will not exist if you leave
them behind, don't think of things
that will stop the light from shining
brighter.
Imagine how long it takes to hollow out a
log to make a vase out of bamboo shoots
in a corner of a dark cold room, surely
not worth the effort of making something
looking beautiful from the heart, but
the beauty of the effort is worth the beauty
that appears within.
Food for thought is food for the imagination
creator of majestic impossibilities possible
little bits of light to shine up a lonely spot
hiding away in your heart.
In case you stumble down the cliff of
memories you should have dismissed
many years back, now leave those
memories, the cliff is being worn down
by the waters of time.
It will now be perfect to give everything
and every one an honorable discharge
on command.
(Move on!)
Let's always be a winner!
Demonstrators in all riots
Aren’t at all full or half idiots:
Any fellow on Rich Diet
Most likely will remain quiet…
Idiots don’t fear Police Canister,
Whose contents are damned sinister.
Cops begin to consult Tear Gas
And vanish would even a lass;
For man fancies not Helpless Tear;
Once its source sights, to The Rear...
With Betrayers they remonstrate,
Against The Bizarre demonstrate:
Idiots don’t know when Auditors
Are Arranged Phony Monitors…
Your So-Called Idiots know the risks
In one playing too long corrupt disks:
Just The Accidental Discharge
That make rioters not in-charge;
Yet, those that voice it keep quiet:
You don’t Idiots meet in Riot.
Will Hicks was angry about rear ends
a sudden discharge cost him countless friends.
It made a stinky mess
causing him distess
until he started to wear Depends.
When a world dreams the next
three small wishes become one
each with the knowledge of the last
until the natal is surpassed
a first asks for a new day
demands existence to coalesce
against the tides of ignorance
combined with fears few admit
the second grasps rainbow tears
puts to sleep the tendencies
to look behind when progress asks
forward movement at long last
a final third belies the rest
for the progress thus attained
when the curtain falls to ground
the new is old in sad discharge.
Petals closed,
Pale colour,
Bending leaves,
Bound roots,
This season is not like others,
The drought, the cracking earth,
The war, the calamity,
Had all contributed to its sadness,
Others are even worse,
Pele-mêle,
Here and there,
Lying on the ground,
As though they had aggressively been,
De-rooted, cut off from their earthly warmth,
And suddenly an unexpected storm,
Poured from the sky, lightning,
A bolt of thunder and,
Torrent of rains,
Then back again, to life,
Petals invitingly open themselves,
Leaves standing up like a hound, vigilant dog's ears,
And roots vibrate as an early warning radar,
But still no smell, no scent,
A rose that does not smell, it is not worthy of the name.
Gigantic jets of
Transient luminous light
Atmospheric show
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature4.php
Your window
was very small.
Why did not you throw the dice?
Walk away
without a want?
I had no courage
to tell the lies,
to hold the secrets
of brave tears,
which failed to live in red-bricked house.
And a naked womb
protecting the fetus
from scars and curtains,
will find a anointed bed to sleep for eternity,
for delivering, a new star.
An anode will discharge
on a galactic light,
a message of the hungry
birds of prey.
Death wants its share of flesh.
SATISH VERMA
Your window
was very small.
Why did not you throw the dice?
Walk away
without a want?
I had no courage
to tell the lies,
to hold the secrets
of brave tears,
which failed to live in red-bricked house.
And a naked womb
protecting the fetus
from scars and curtains,
will find a anointed bed to sleep for eternity,
for delivering, a new star.
An anode will discharge
on a galactic light,
a message of the hungry
birds of prey.
Death wants its share of flesh.
SATISH VERMA
Your window
was very small.
Why did not you throw the dice?
Walk away
without a want?
I had no courage
to tell the lies,
to hold the secrets
of brave tears,
which failed to live in red-bricked house.
And a naked womb
protecting the fetus
from scars and curtains,
will find a anointed bed to sleep for eternity,
for delivering, a new star.
An anode will discharge
on a galactic light,
a message of the hungry
birds of prey.
Death wants its share of flesh.
SATISH VERMA
Your window
was very small.
Why did not you throw the dice?
Walk away
without a want?
I had no courage
to tell the lies,
to hold the secrets
of brave tears,
which failed to live in red-bricked house.
And a naked womb
protecting the fetus
from scars and curtains,
will find a anointed bed to sleep for eternity,
for delivering, a new star.
An anode will discharge
on a galactic light,
a message of the hungry
birds of prey.
Death wants its share of flesh.
SATISH VERMA
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