Falling into a dream apposed to their reality,
Living what seems to be the idea of their own personal fantasy,
The character they play is more than they are,
This egotistical deception steals their own heart,
Why is simple not enough? Why must they compare?,
What purpose does the mask hold? Why is it there?,
When innocence tried to hold on with all its might,
Until they realized that this world is just one big fight,
To steal away empathy, love, and compassion,
And driving them to replace love with deception,
Instead of digging through the rubble of a broken world,
Or holding the hand of the heartbroken until their wounds are healed,
Or taking the time to see under the behavior that has caused so much pain,
Having the love and patience not to leave them this way,
g a l e -
f o r c e
w i n d s
l a s h i n g
r i p p i n g
rooftops
walls,
c
o
l
l
a
p
s
e ~
r u b b l e tells the tale
there is beauty where i look
some days i need to look harder
i used to wake up and taste the promise
of wonder and magic in the air
now it's more of a daily struggle
maybe the connections have become rusty
perhaps life just wore me down
but optimism is truly worth the struggle
Beneath the Rubble
Unfinished artwork waits on the shelf,
Hidden between dark pages,
Scribbles on paper long to be free.
As a lover waits, it too waits,
For the breath of life,
Seasons pass without promise.
In the womb’s dark, an embryo craves,
Nourishment, life’s blood,
“Edit me,” it cries, “Color me crimson.”
Forget not,
A story to be told,
A poem promised,
Longing.
The sun’s rays cascade through the leaded windowpane,
You wake to the quiet space,
Between thought and being,
A stirring deep within the heart.
You pause, reach for the notebook,
Blow off the dust,
Gently turn the page,
Hope.
Pen in hand,
Flesh exposed.
Red blood appears,
Life.
A sigh of relief,
The long-lost lover arrives.
Structures crumbling under the weight of
the decisions made in haste
Beneath the rubble lies all the reasons it was
all laid to waste
The signs were seen but disregarded as mere
means to an end
The golden mean would've sufficed but extremes
prevailed once again
Lack of faith in what is seen lead to harder lessons
learned
Some fight hard for their destruction so their path
is truly earned
You can preach until the cows come home but many
won't give a second listen
I guess the slaughter is more enticing to their
inhumane animalism
We're cannibalistic in a sense with the way we come
for each other
We've been deceived to come against & to fight
one another
Everyone loses at the end of days if we're overcome
by the night
We're in the midst of the battle of all battles with
those that wish to force a fight
They say that all is fair in love & war and that
purple hearts are a blessing
All I see are the wounds that decorate us while we
endure convalescence
Open your eyes unto the message before you take
further steps
I implore you to be righteous in your ways so that
you avoid oversteps
If quite clean is this portrayal
For the Rouble quit betrayal...
We don't higher fly with trouble:
We remain The Trapped in a rubble
You can't be seeker of trouble
And of it not clinch a double?
Currency to hurt not Rouble
How long can you with joy bubble?
Now a mansion soon great Rubble
If you dare betray The Rouble
For life body heat might double,
For disguise more of your stubble;
Things shall still be much unstable,
Russia might not near her cable.
If damned clear is this portrayal
For the Rouble spare betrayal.
A man
tensely
tied to a
tired tempered tower.
With his mind
like a reticent
rutted rat
scurrying off
to cower
within the
crooked cryptic
corners of
reality.
But whose
heart is the
only hand
reaching out
of the rubble.
Still hanging
onto a
half hushed
howl of hope.
Life in our rubble
Repel red army
Fake news? Friends don't bomb children
Don't just survive, thrive.
575 howmanysyllables.com
Humans destroying human settlements.
This is an integral part of war.
The war of two neighboring governments!
You'll be forgiven for asking what for!
Beautiful buildings are hollow shells.
Tangled rubble lies all around;
There are no parks, streets or malls.
Everything's been razed to the ground!
Delicate women crying in the streets,
Children weaned from education!
Men want to see who the other defeats.
There's a destroying of all construction!
You'll be told this is politics.
Quarrels and issues between peoples.
Some would say semantics.
Pride based intractable squabbles!
An alien scanning planet Earth
Would see an interesting phenomenon:
A species that, when feeling wrath,
Destroys its dwellings with wild abandon!
haven broken bubble
start seeing all the rubble
People walking stumble
would they would complain
drove me crazy and insane
which way they remain
better leave alone
or be blown away by drone
had to set the tone
No one knows the rubble I’ve seen.
Nobody knows but DEEEshus.
I stop washing dishes and turn around.
My four-year-old is belting this out with gusto.
These dishes?
She nods.
Where did you learn it?
In church.
Okay.
Fred Flintstone
Felt tingles, down his funny bone,
While playing his golf ball, he lost control.
Barney cried foul, as it bounced off his elbow into the hole.
Barney Rubble
Was in deep trouble,
When the match referee, ignored his demand.
And Fred laughed out loud, when Barney's ball plugged in the sand.
9 / 11 / 2021.
Cellphone monologue
I’ve been driving, you know the road is no highway,
how taxing, skirting potholes, cajoling the new jalopy
will be there for a candle lit supper, come what may.
Out of the glare, jacarandas form a fragrant canopy
into the glow of passion driving down Love Boulevard
Oh my, your texts been erecting toll gates between us!
I need money to get through to you, road is barred.
Do you honestly believe I deserve to be treated thus?
Sometimes a man has to make do with his love ration.
But the once-sweet ferments, then love loses a mate
when the woman darts in and out for material fashion
though she knows full well her lover is no Bill Gates.
Hard to believe we used to be such a rhyming couple
my said inadequacy has made me reel under the rubble.
Devastation turned to joy
when searchers heard a muffled sound
and found a tiny, frightened boy
beneath the rubble on the ground.
He lay, unhurt, surrounded by
the storm's debris and clinging to
a blanket. He began to cry,
as did the entire rescue crew.
Still holding to that blanket, he
was lifted from the ruins while
nearby his grieving family,
though lying injured, soon would smile.
Like trinkets, trees and home were tossed
throughout the town, but on that day
of miracles, no lives were lost.
They'll rise, rebuild, rejoice, and pray.
October 20, 2020
entered in Craig Cornish's After the Hurricane Contest
I used to believe and understand
The sense that you no longer make
Pardon me and no offense
But I think you’ve had a psychic break
I’ve seen the light slowly fading
Dying in your once vibrant eyes
Beginning from when you let go
Into the maelstrom of lies
I wish I’d listened when Mother said
You’d bring me only grief and trouble
I felt so connected with you then
Upon our steaming heap of rubble
We made a pact to live our dream
United in a sacred vow
But I knew as soon as you met him
That things had changed somehow
August 23, 2020
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