first love never dies
its flames rage loose in the wind
ashes smolder still
as fire rampages untamed
scorching fragile hearts blue-black
This eulogy is glued-together CliffsNotes.
Summing up his eighty-two years.
Only the happy tones are used.
Nothing about the blackout drinking rampages.
The black and blue spouse and children.
That affair with the babysitter.
The push down the pregnant stairs.
The many sudden clacks and clangs
Those strange pangs in the darkness.
On this day, it's only the happy stuff being spewed.
The wonderful puffs of funeral parlor smoke.
The fabric of a superhero unveiled.
Many of us sitting here know the truth.
He was no superhero; he was a super monster-
A complete waste of cells and formaldehyde.
We wait patiently for this verbal charade to burn itself out.
Leonardo Da Vinci was not just a painter
He did much more ... and lives on
Michelangelo sculpted and suffered pain
As he painted the Sistine Chapel
Is a poet similar to path-breaking artists?
II
We all endured hurtful words, even from Father Figures
Or Mother figures (but we don't admit)
We hide our family demons, some are pastors, yes
But the cost to the planet and THE OTHER has to STOP
Get help, confess even to the authorities, HEAL THYSELF artists
III
If navel-gazers, and self lovers keep writing about "ME"
Then art and poetry will be divorced
Where will the artists of communist nations be, the holocaust?
There has to be balance, I pray you agree
When a TERRORIST rampages in our midst, by holocaust of one
Even a George Floyd, the role of the ARTIST in history meets TODAY
The gunfire rages
through the cracks
of neighborhood cages
as every fetid tenement ages
and voodoo economics suppress wages
of waitresses, cabbies and sages...
while the slick-shoe alderman engages
in taxing your turnip-blood in stages
and blue-jeaned billionaires decry outrages
of clothes-hanger abortions back-stages
and gang-banger rampages --
as this feckless dog-and-pony upstages
detonated death's tick-tock gauges
-
Today at six I tuned my television set
To gaze attentively... Propaganda they
All say and that today I could testify to
The spelt evil. The vision telegrammed.
To no avail the brother that was caught
In betwixt the shooting and rampages
Of the commuters was not screened...
Yet they say no to press censorship too
I later realised that I had no saying even
When terrorised by my own. So absurd
And my groans never impact the comrade
Even the commissar so reluctant to my plea.
A soft blush
creeps onto the face
awkward and timid
it attempts to convey
embarrassment, pleasure
in the most attractive way
it is shyly vain
almost unnoticeable -
does it even exist?
A hard blush
is an explosion of emotion
conveying the extremes
of anything
it spreads throughout the body
rampages the nerves
in itself
it is a profound expression
of the extremity of feeling
Black is the sound of a thunder storm
as it rampages across the landscape
the crack of thunder as lightening
flashes across the sky pitch black
Black is the feeling deep in your gut
when something disturbs and scares you
as you watch black shapes creep towards you
leaving you shaken and wanting to hide
Black is the heart full of despair
when a loved one is finally lost
either to death or relationship breakup
black is the grave that waits us all
written 12/01/2013
contest The Sound of Colour
Somebody please help me, I'm in great distress.
My wife is having her period and she has PMS.
One time she grabbed a television set and hit me in the head.
When I came out of my coma, I was amazed that I wasn't dead.
She goes on rampages and she screams and shouts.
I told her to shut up and she nearly scratched my eyes out.
This time of the month causes great stress.
Somebody please help me, she has PMS.
Bulldozers, drunk with gasoline
once again have scarred and maimed
a place, once green with grass and trees
Where we once heard the sound of breeze
and ghosts of children played their games
and were forced to leave their childhood memories
There trembles now an engine's roar,
that drowns the sounds of echoed glee
In trenched out holes, in broken trees
The big top guns....pour the concrete, build the towers
Ravage earth, take the power, then run- run- run
The dinosaurs raise their iron heads
Jaws dripping with loads of earth and grass
Like a gopher rampages through his halls
Forcing the small guys to their knees
One by one the disappearance of the land
And while the green world our grandfathers knew
Is gone in days, with every oak that falls
When this new invading presence someday is done
Has had his fill of dollar bills,
Then soon abandons one and all..
What will be our fate
Who will mourn, who will recall?
Will we stand up, change the course
Can we stop invading forces
Before it’s too late? Before we have lost it all?
________________________________________________________________
Love is a wicked seducer.
Shining as a golden temptation.
We extend our hearts,
Injecting the poison.
Its delightful effects of clouding the mind,
Smiting the heart,
And destroying self worth
Are merely magnificent.
Seen before it attacks, stupidity runs amok;
For to fight the cravings is an effort wasted,
As Love rampages through the blood,
Quickening.
Oh how it quickens,
Fueling desire of the soul,
Pounding of the heart,
Heated intoxication.
Don't call out;
No one will hear you,
Other than Love our friend,
There to betray you at the moment your guard is down.
There is a new rage that is taking
over the country,
Vigilantes going on rampages,
No one is immune from their acts
of passion,
They are making recompense
for imagined slights,
not really thinking about the
consequences or ruining
other peoples' lives,
The spurned are unleashing their
feelings everywhere,
Folks are no longer free to roam,
afraid to tackle life openly,
because a wicked wind may arrive
suddenly........
Death
Rampages
All things take their toll
Must we suffer so?
Always lamenting loss or change
Till we know not why we exist
Is it just to suffer?
Can we not see past the pain?
Eventually we must move on
Virtually dragging our minds out of the
Eternal darkness that drags us down into chaos
Nothing is worth the heart ache and the pain
That these dramatic events drag us into
Seize the opportunity to grow!
swift stream rampages
over the edge of boulders
that can't shout orders!
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