Soledar and a salt mine
The mine is enormous can hide an army of Ukrainian soldiers
the thousands we thought had been killed on the battlefield
The winter is arriving late in this cursed land, no snow falls
The soil doesn’t freeze its soft embrace swallows tiger tanks.
From the salt mines, the ghost army arises in the quiet clamour
to vanquish the enemy, elated is the triumph of the deluded.
Flaring fire across the grassland, harvested grain burns bright
but ghosts are forever bloodless; the world is aghast, to see
their triumph thwarted; the magic of victory was but a dream.
Twin drops of sweat
perched on his brow
Salt mines
the butcher's
blood-soaked smock
reeking knife
poised...
feverish to finish
the lady's order
his tear-stained chop
wide of the mark
I am denied a resolute rest
for the stars and master moon lost their
battle with the invading dawn and
their royal king sun that shines through my lids.
Its relentless pet rays beams on me
that a cool refreshing sparkling drink
dries in my mouth and vapors my throat
sending beads of sweat round my body.
In the coolness of my vast salt mines
glaring out the window of despair
to all the wretched gone beings caught in scorch
whereto, short, I will gravely echo.
It governs this, my awaken life
under it, there is no place to hide
I am but a pawn on its chess board
I am under its command, its will.
For now I bide my time neath its day
and await the master moon's return
it will vanquish the royal king sun
and warrior stars will dot the sky.
Jointly, they will rule my restful night
assure that I will not be disturbed
for this part of my life, I am theirs
a balanced me, under their domains.
Date: 05/27/2019
This isn’t make believe
Where you get to act in movie scenes
It’s real life to me
Seems like you’re programmed to leave
You’ve been nothing but a struggle
You make it hard for me purposely
Stand back and let me float away
Let go of me so you can flea
I miss being loved endlessly
By the kind of man who needs me
You just play games
And dangle the key
Disconnected team alliance
Our flags wave different ways
Sets fire to her defiance
Nods your right, but her heart is a blaze
Suffocating from swallowing fights
Kill the noise that fills her head
Jumping safety to fall from new heights
Burning from things you said
Wounded from wondering
You’re different in the wrong ways
Storm made it’s way thundering
Maybe after all, you are just a phase
Dig deep for the soul you stole
She was broken before
But you had to keep poking holes
Now she’s no more than a chore
Needed to lose a little sanity
To find that the salt mines don’t sting that bad
Curse that damn chemistry
Now drink the gasoline like a nomad
Today I took some photos of yellow flowers
in a field that used to be a battle ground
The locals know little about it, but I think it had
to do with access to the salt mines, and to think
today we try to avoid salt, but back them salt was
a way of preserving food. But naturally the war was
not for commerce, soldiers fought to defend freedom
and they were given the spiel how brutal foes were.
Today it is about oil and we are given many accounts
yet we have many people like the “Sniper” whose
murderous conduct was made in the name of freedom,
when it was fought in the filthy black mass of horror, but
the photos I took showed a field of yellow flowers and
where the word coward is a compliment to those who have s
seen the amalgamation of dreams and the possible
The litter of chatter
On air pitter patter
Like the Galean on water:
The other one without the power
There is a desolateness here
Borders broken
By the commerce of men
Restructured by the twitter
Bringing anomie from the bitter
Knowing of self without fetter
To community and roots
Of anchored ancestry.
Fragments, fragments
Broken stones on jarring landscape
The superficial arguments
Making conditions
Of our dispossession easy
For robber baron twine
The fragile shrubs of history.
Pause
And listen where the minotaur
Make new catacombs
With mind dripping claws
The old heart is speaking so near
Descend the cloud of noise to hear
Or else we fritter, fritter
Away sun upon the salt mines glitter.
Her tears are real, clearly champagne and crystal,
delicately micro frozen upon her quiescent face;
transparent and invisible, deceives the naked eye,
there for fleeting instants, gone without a trace.
Although their authenticity may well provoke debate
it does not mean they are not truly there;
and though her circuits may be closed in insulating snow
it does not mean she cannot truly care.
What stands between her frailty and the fierce Siberian winds
that prowl perimeters of her heart and freeze
with the coldest chill of salt mines and the emptiest terrain
that brings armies of the hardest to their knees?
The promised blast from a slaughterhouse door upon her naked back
congeals the blood within her veins until it will not run;
emotions thus solidify to guard against the hurt
whilst she begs the thaw of body heat, the passion of the sun.
Yet all the fear and wonder of Winter's destitute domain,
wraps her up in solitude and sets her soul apart;
and she prays for someone with the patient, warmest scalpel kiss
to shear away the frost from her aching, ice-cream heart.