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Brian Elrix Poem
A teen aesthete
wanders to the soul bartering crossroads
down from where the bus let off.
Gathering weeds and stray flowers
of windblown cemetery seeds.
To make a shrine, self inspired,
at the wayside of God.
To lend by ritual, and evocation
the passage of their development
lonely and gifted.
Shrugging off the ubiquitous pack
and taking from within; magical finds
discovered during cherished playtimes.
Collected in a self-adorned shoe box.
Things gleaned from treasure hunts
and fantastic pursuits.
A cache of light:
cat's eye marbles, chandelier crystals,
blue, clear, and green, sea glass
rolled and shaped by cousin sands.
Dull till spit wetted, salt licked.
By wave defying bravery
a pluck of pebble or sunny glimmer.
Run to Mom for her glamor, and approval.
Brought home in playful pockets
from beaches and picnics.
Now artfully laid in tearful grief.
Creating a mosaic of introspection.
The last to set in place
a paint chipped, wooden, geometric
puzzle piece.
An icon of fractured lullabies.
A dream ending; bare feet,
wet pajamas, and a long car ride.
Copyright © Brian Elrix | Year Posted 2026
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Brian Elrix Poem
You were empowered by striving
for an ideal nature potential to another,
more intuitive, your inspired psyche.
A dualistic inner child.
A sister if you will,
or brother, of conscience.
The fragile critic of your ego
twinning being and discovery
wicker work woven into identity.
Jungian campfire archetypes
and coastal forest epiphany.
Dawns chorus, dew walkers
wise dumb, and moon guided.
Myth whisperers and sacred smoke diviners.
You have become one with the tribe of
Anthropologically informed Atheists.
Book readers and thought provocateurs,
engaged by the zeitgeist.
You don't want to play at the game?
You seek no comfort in their death cult.
For you the apocalypse is a shattered dream.
Reflecting their allegiance to delusional rapture,
while clutching self-fulfilling lists of disasters.
You are a threat to their device.
Enraging them by your very existence,
by networks of increasing number and influence.
An abuse they contend is their God's given to prevent.
Yet you persist? Offering humanitarian precepts
as the alternative for generations of:
genocide, war, and thought persecution.
Rebel defiance enforcing struggle and community.
Breaking through the concrete of their institutions.
Seeded in cracks of commitment and enlightenment.
Poet's words swept by love and dissent
across vast tracks of sterile pavement.
Copyright © Brian Elrix | Year Posted 2026
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Brian Elrix Poem
Mother, Mother?
Stand aside.
While we pass this cup among us.
Corruption of your love?
Our pity and sorrow overflow.
Who of us has not surrendered for a price,
for the security of loved ones?
Hands held forth for silver,
standing in line to kiss the lips of betrayal.
Our pioneer forefathers
hungry, ambitious, deadly.
Conquered new frontiers,
and labored in genocide.
Massacring 'the others',
while affirming their righteousness before God.
Guilt washed clean by baptismal water.
The garden is too wild, too natural
it must conform, must be tamed.
The fruit from the tree of knowledge
left to fall, forbidden.
We turned away from her.
Smashing statues in mob frenzy,
persecuting in the name
of a Hypatia hating patriarchy.
We abandon our once sacred trust
seeking dominion of a world
that can only love us in return.
The lamb that nuzzles the slaughter's hand.
The bride that lifts her veil to kiss
a misogynist man.
Copyright © Brian Elrix | Year Posted 2026
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Brian Elrix Poem
"Hallowed be her name, who's art is Earth".
She stood sheltered, a companion
to Maple, Alder and Willow.
A busy brook flowed
in accompaniment
to the chorus of bird song
perfect in her presence.
The patron had fulfilled her will
for a magical and protected place.
A peaceful tranquility
that celebrated her coming as a completion.
As though nature knew an absence
without her.
Through the sculptor's wielding
of her chisel and hammer
she conveyed the features, the stance
that would become her persona.
Her enkindling presence illuminating
the rough studio of her origin.
Where the vision that furrowed the brow;
informed the craft and art to reveal,
hands compliant, what slept within the stone.
Distraught by a midnight's harrowing
I come to her, seeking solace
from my existential crisis.
By sliver of silver moonlight.
My hand against her chest
her chill and my warmth flow.
Until languid, I lay upon the pedestal.
A reverent supplicant
in Pre-Raphaelite pose.
The brooks rhythmic gurgle and splash
benumbing my anguish, till words surface
intuitively, of blasphemy and beauty.
Copyright © Brian Elrix | Year Posted 2026
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Brian Elrix Poem
Now is the Aquarian Age and its predictable backlash
while America scares the hell into us.
Where culture wars of identity and recrimination
have become silos of information isolation.
Where critical thought and intellectualism
is targeted for finger pointing and 'woke' blaming.
They besmirch compassion under the rubric 'socialism'.
As though democratic socialism is, or has ever been, a bad thing?
Ask your Grandmother if she appreciates her pension?
Do you drive on roads and highways? Obey stop signs?
The inarticulate MAGA twenty first century pledge of allegiance
is fealty to a neo-fascism of religious and race intolerance.
That empowered imperial colonialism and historic xenophobia.
Superiority manifest by God determined righteousness.
Ancient Abrahamic systems that privileged the elite.
Requiring fealty of the conditioned masses
by willing submission, called faith.
Separation of religion and state is a constitutional bulwark.
That is by credence and convention historically obscured.
The prayer breakfast obligatory for success.
'In God we Trust' is stamped on every bag of donor funds
that lobby the integrity of statespersons and politicians.
This is the history of our humanity; this is what we face,
this is what we are up against, these are the powers manifest.
And now we are in a time of critical potential.
Where idealism confronts ignorance
administered by hate, and unexamined faith.
Where jingoism can be 'replaced' by compassionate humanism.
Liberating us from media forged manacles of corporate, state,
or religious indoctrination that still enforce their control.
We rise defiant throughout the world to the Age of Aquarius.
Articulate, and provocative.
Inspired by ideals of Global Unity,
and the 2.0 of humanity.
Copyright © Brian Elrix | Year Posted 2026
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