Jade
In the void of my transitional mind,
the aimless scatter-shots of snapshot in kind
finding itheir way.through pokes in the brine.
Saran wrap bindings of biased memories, invent orys,
and tupper-ware leftovers tidings of dreams, kept palatable for the aroaming beasts.
I find the manipulations stirring like mercurial-gravy,
sardonical Last Suppers of my humanity at
the toppings station, insulting.
Where's the variety, where's the if there
is a will there's a way?
Where's the frikkin beef?
I heard that commercial say- (I agree,
where's our defense against the dark arts Teacher
or our non f'd with bandwith to have our say?
;My Atriuk-Consultants,
disappearing, through a buffet line
of suitors for my gun hand-as treason's malignant mercenary gland.
Stranger in a strange clan.
Now every thought is like a remembrance, a
severance to pay for it all.The tying to-me
in Gordian crossroads mocked silverly
by multi directional unabaiting winds
blowing adversarily.
Each pointing "this way you fail !"
"Every which way a noose !"
"This way you fall !"
Of on the loose this way dungeon echoes
a calling as dark corridor Shades
with no true form to call.
The past haunts, the future calls,
lost in the chaos urn, as time falls-
in diminished return,
for the base is nearly full to lay
as a squandored mound of time.
Like shooting stars across the sky,
my dreams flicker, then fade and die?
Searching for purpose, to see what sticks.
I fire all of my rounds at once
In this endless maze of day and night I pace
these walls, like those Demonic Shades,
who chant "hey Jude" and perform "Jude Law"
in Shakespearean play, "There's something about Mary...
whomever target to sway. Come wicked this way s.
But in the darkness, I find a kin-spark
guide in my self defense,
of cheerlead everence in reference to
hope belonging to everyone the same.
A torch in the deepening dark
to saber heroicly for my good name.
Iwill rise from the sullen ashes,
strong and brilliantly bright, aiimless no more,
faith in my sights.
Pull !
Let the scatter shot fall where it may,
I'll carve my path, come what may.
For in the chaos, I see the arts of strength,
the part I play,
I find beauty's confidence and vision
in the facets of my jaded heart,
that maybe I can help the World in some small but
contrite way.
Copyright ©
Jude Herrick
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