I …
saw a
person today …
mocking the murder of a good man -
making fun of a horrific death
that had played out before the eyes of children
on a sparkling bright, joyous day -
their pure memories, now defiled with blood …
I waited … and waited more
for I half expected the heavens to rend
and a bolt of lightning to strike
this person down …
that’s how egregious this was -
how utterly … disgusting
but all I saw was people celebrating and
cheering this blatant beast of a human
all I heard was the acrid, revolting
sound of derisive laughter …
and I realized then humanity had crossed
a new and remarkable line
where malice and animosity and intolerance -
where the precepts of HATRED -
have become something to celebrate
something … to be proud of …
my knees buckled, my spirit crumbled
and my broken heart wept
for what this new reality might mean to
the futures of my grandchildren
and the precious destiny
of their …
world.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )
For egregious war crimes against fellow Australians, on fifty seven counts' injecting bio-hazardous substances, false
Imprisionment, false information terrorisomg a whole
population, creating un-law.' Denying
Recourse to medical records to ascertain
Causes of death, and how funds were
Allocated, just a few events and actions
Here, all the best to Steven Spiers as
He gets his case together, which i feel
Hardly needed, as recent history corroborates all claims that will be brought.)
Gunfire,
Shots.
Screams.
Bloodshed.
Bodies.
Bodies.
Bodies.
Except one -
The shooter,
Who - was - white
The victims,
DEAD,
All the victims -
Black.
The police,
Arrive,
Ten - twenty minutes late.
The excuse -
Traffic,
There was no traffic that day,
They lied -
They didn’t care that Black life had been taken away
They arrived late,
Red and Black,
It was an egregious attack -
What was worse,
The faces of the police -
Stone cold -
Devoid.
The shooter was spared,
He was white after all,
They didn’t shoot -
In their words it would be ‘un-called’ for
The shooter lived,
The shooter - acquitted,
Why?
He was white -
And the victims Black
But obviously the courts did not say that,
They said he was mentally unwell - had a panic attack,
That it would be unfair for them to criminalise that -
After all this was his first offense, so he can’t be that bad,
Oh, also he has a family which means they need him back
The victims families saddened,
But not surprised - as history shows this has already happened
He formulated a delicate scheme,
So that he could obtain vital funds
From gullible, if friendly virtual persons
And spend his life in idle, useless pastimes.
In his egregious vanity, he concocted stories.
Thus, he would meditate on pulling strings
Of his listeners' consciences.
Insane in his delirium, he would meditate
His famous tales read newspapers for inspiration,
Send messages to all he judged to be ripe
For a monetary gift to help assuage his need:
Alas, not many took the bait.
Occasionally, someone would send
A miserable donation. Until he found
His haven in an old kindly woman who felt pity
And send him a thousand-dollar gift.
Profound words of thanks ensued.
He was courteous hoping to get more,
Inventing a lack of funds to rent his home.
FICTION?
My heart is a wasteland
Consuming all it holds
Lamenting, egregious, divine mine devours
Begging for flowers, bloom ensnared
in the midst of barren hands
My heart is a wasteland
Waiting for rainfall
over dry bones
A cold moonshine
illuminates desolate ruins—
what once led prosperity
My heart is a wasteland
Burning eternal flame
set ablaze by passerbys
Athirst for lush splendor
that once sheathed protection
How much more can one withstand
My heart is a wasteland!
All the love I have to give
dissolves into my pores,
crushing my bones
My heart is a wasteland
Written: November 17, 2025
****************
The night used to gargle with garrulous joy—
canorous crickets, a capacious choir
beneath the diaphanous veil of dusk.
Now, only the hissing of wires,
the gaseous hum of machines
careen through the cloudscape.
I prowl the porch at the moon’s behest,
a flaneur of vanished felicity,
searching for the fetching fipple-song
that once gamboled through the grass.
But the calyx is closed.
The petiole wilted.
The elixir of sound—evanesced.
Where once the heron slept
and the wisteria wore its tiara of dew,
now lies a threadbare hush,
a dismal hex of silence.
The garden, once gaudy with chirps,
It is a byzantine grave of elision.
Did we disassemble for too long?
Rake too deep?
Abase the earth with hubris
And flapdoodle dreams of dominion?
Did our egregious hunger
for luster and control
writhe the world into quiet?
Written: September 29, 2025, for contest sponsored by Tom Wood
***********
I) Sojourn of the Alabaster Mind
I careen through a world of chatoyant light,
Each step is a mirror of halcyon lore.
The pavonine sky and a chimera flight,
Projects sage shadows on an Elysian shore.
A clamor of atlas, a ductile tickle
Elixir of wonder, still need to fickle—
To pursue the penumbra, to not be blind,
And a sojourn for the alabaster mind.
II) The Necrotic Hour
I maunder across the clangor of despair,
A stertorous breath in the stygian gloom.
No nepenthe soothes within egregious snare,
Each cough is a pyrrhic echo in my room.
The airhead mocks my once-mellifluous breath
My Oculus dims in sudden fever death.
No eloquence lives in this loathsome abyss—
My nemesis: the sickness can't be sheer bliss.
Arbitrary patterns, be it said,
Behove a poet who has nought to say:
Consider if you will, the holy dread
Descending on him when he has to play
Egregious games of lexicon and sense:
Ferocious is his hunt for weighty meaning:
Garrulousness has no innate value - hence
Hermetic references, frantic gleaning,
Intemperate allusions all too often
Juxtaposed with useful phrases in a
Kulturkampf, with memes supposed to soften
Lacunae like the way we treated Jinna,
Matriculee of Lincoln’s Inn. No joke.
Nehru, Inner Temple. Things you learn!
Our planet is a stellar artichoke,
papaveraceous, as the Medes discern.
Damn it the planet’s on fire
Concerning..right down to the wire
Burning on its funeral pyre spire
I’m for turning.. where’s the messiah?
A heavenly choir…so we can aspire
That learning will finally inspire
An endless yearning desire
Of spurning this friendless quagmire
Discerning things are rather dire
Churning of the palaver and ire
Mother nature does surely tire
Should be the crier & trier
Of another returning frequent flyer
Corporate pariah..or so called high flier
Deranged global warming denier
You can tell its hotter...getting dryer
The climate’s changed.. you liar
Mining anything shining..find a buyer
All about earning..will just retire
With their bounty…a comfy county squire
Or dicey fiscal rascal friar
Got devious egregious previous & prior
Pampered dining on pricey lobster & samphire
Us out of luck..stuck in the muck & mire
Tampered temperatures soaring higher
But no ruck ..chuck the entire earth in the fryer
They’ve scampered…we’re hampered in the briar
Does appall …no truck with their gall…yet remain a complier
Insane what they pluck.. yet we all still call them “Sire”
i am an egregious creature
my hands carry the weight of my mothers grief
my legs tied down by the burden of my father's sins
my eyes hold unspoken truths
that even the heavenly father would not breach
i am the consequence of generations
bonded not of love
but of something worse
the human condition
or is it the beauty of living so freely in darkness?
this has created me
me a person
where hands have freely touched
eyes shamelessly roamed
searching for a redemption i cannot offer
a hope i cannot promise
i hold love of a thousand stars
exploding in the night sky
my mouth bears the scars of words unsaid
lies freely told
i love she who created me
just as much as i cannot bear the man who made me
my head cradles the truth of a child
please comment!!!
Why does doom feel so familiar
While happiness seems so far away?
How many times have you heard the supplications
Asking for help, or
Begging for mercy, from our suffering.
In this god-forsaken place,
Where we have been placed, to test our tenacity.
Here in this tent city, surrounded by the sounds of industry,
Talking to strangers, about predestined arrangements
Watching the birds fly and the bugs crawl beneath the canopy
In a seemingly parallel reality, I’ve come to suffer separation
From this place we call civilization, the noise of today
Is but tomorrow’s memory, wanting to steal my spirit away.
Just leave me be. Forget about me. Mind your own business.
Leave me out of the fray. I never asked it to be this way.
Criss-crossed with trespass, egregious behavior
Upon someone else’s path, invasive presence, vainglorious -
Self-interest that clashes with everything including itself.
Vibrating like a hive of invasive species
Eating away at the fabric of our being.
Loud, obnoxious, rude, concoctions, diseases for the masses
Please take me away from this insanity. Again,
I pray. ~psp
dr. (pi)
.
Perhaps you think I’m sitting here, amazed.
Egregious as the test you set me is,
the truth is, I am utterly unfazed.
Desultory, to me, this kind of quiz.
Of course I like a challenge. Don’t we all?
God’s chosen one? The lawyer. He gets his.
Concupiscence I’ll use (I have the gall):
attendant difficulties, I ignore.
Tough polysyllables? The merest squall
before the sunshine. What I most adore,
objectively, is playing with your mind:
you throw me junk, I somehow make it soar.
So do your worst. I thrive on rotten rind.
Opprobrium I effortlessly flout,
neglect embrace: contumely, leave behind.
The rancour’s like the Russians, put to rout,
or North Koreans, tied up, tamed and tazed.
You’ll try, but you will never catch me out.
Obtuse abuse..rude platitudes shout..
About alternative attitudes..generations..
Scream at different altitudes & latitudes..
Venerate mandarins sins..
Generate pernicious vicissitudes
Vicious avaricious machinations..
Celebrate nations chagrin…
Pander to propaganda spin..
AI garlanded reputations..
Cohorts in suits cavort in cahoots..
Kiss or diss..the abyss
Hiss of mis-information bliss..
Arrests..capitalist corporate conquests...detests protest..
Well got egregious prior & previous..
SO
Whatever your hue or world view..
We know what's wrong..doesn't belong
Deliriously daring to dream of derring do..
The meme..prime time you probably knew..
The Force..of course..
Is also seriously strong in you..
Indeed there are many good poems, here in rhyme and in
Prose.' In Haiku and Senryu ' Acrostic; who knows.? Also
There are some who, write comments while 'holding their own
Nose' we can think what we want.' We can write as we will!
Should there be a directive.? If so let it be of truth drawn
And out of (good-will) is there censorship.? Among the body.?
Not the hosts of this site.' Egregious evil should be negated
That is only right.' Yet to bring air to a subject be it soiled
Laundry.? Or foul capers.? Is the first step to health that
Must be addressed.' On screen or paper.' Who works here
Art? In the bright blaze of light.' Who would illuminate minds?
Be it by day or by the night.? Has reality no bearing? Or currency
To some minds? ( I read of good intentions ) yet some of the writers may as well be blind.' No one admits to censoring
Yet to cancel.? Its seems is sublime.' Those indeed get to pardon
Their own short-sighted-ness' moving along one un-democratic block at
A time.'
Esau, a fierce hunter; Jacob a Torah scholar
Isaac had to make a difficult decision
To blend Abraham’s kindness with
Jacob the scholar or with Esau’s strength…
Elderly Isaac's tears blinded him at length
For he’d made an egregious mistake
Choosing brute force over scholarship
His frail body began to shake… *
__________________________________
*See Genesis 27:33
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