Dispatched

dispatched
to the hungry umbrage
spindly wraiths
spill ruination
arms athwart
absorb nullity
boots and RIFs
soon disavowed

whistling timbres
so precise
held brimstone fists stripped
knuckled white
waried faith
lest bullets showered
dulled the Duster pastorales

plucked like florets
bare and breathless
strafing nightly
saw them felled
prowess at imperil’s onset
sweat poured down
a poor man’s brow
loud as telegraphed
impressions
dispossessed
like wingless flies

birds took to the sky
in errant
bursts of aril
none were spared
crimson horrors
void of rinsing
from the hands
of shellshocked minds

blind are days
since hell became us
land of freedom
man as god
sadist thieves
left grief besotted
rotting leaves
pinned to dead air

Aversion

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ere i walked the shadows
of a shameless life eschewed
i sometimes talked for hours
on the telephone
’tis true

attending to the inbox
which would hold my correspondence
until one day i stopped
having become too despondent

seven years have come and gone
and still i have not looked
nor listened to my messages
not even on facebook

this plague pervades
most every aspect
of my adult years
i since have lost the respect
of my family and peers

for they can’t see the reasons
nor the logic of my plight
its tragedy is lost
amid the inference of their sleight

presuming that it must be
that they’ve somehow drawn my ire
some say i’m maladjusted
others think i have retired

i cannot help but panic
upon hearing rings and tones
instilling in me frantic feelings
reeling in my home

truth be told i have disabled
every last alarm
and push notification
for they only cause me harm

and should you try to reach out
with an intention to touch
you’ll not invade this redoubt
that has long since been my crutch

and if you are to know me
then you first must understand
even if you are the homie
you can talk to your own hand

Due Decorum

is it so uncouth to ask
for thee to stay thy tongue
and not disturb the black damask
enshrouding ablutions
for there exists no merit
to be found in such affronts
doth no one wish to hear it
underground nor in the sun
have we lost all decorum
at the cost of decency
to air in public forum
matters begging secrecy
instead we see the plague
of people primitively prone
to posting private pictures
posing on porcelain thrones!
pray not let us devolve
into unsavory savants
with thoughts left to revolve
around our basest needs and wants
one mustn’t attend charm school
to find value in mystique
we’ve no need to defend fools
when they’ve failed to be discreet
thus, i submit we gather
every vulgar philistine
and banish them to exile
to the isle of shrillest screams
for it is of their own accord
to wax on chamber pots
therefore we dare not spare the horde
an expeditious plot
of funerary provenance
for actions crude and crass
for devotees of elegance
i speak on your behalf

Promised Hours

why is it
that only upon leaving
do you voice
lament

fleeting amid
sentiments
and sudden
things to do

promised hours
perish
in a flash
of wistful
alley light

scarce
your words
remain
as token trials of hope
since lost

hanging in denial
are faded smiles
and fusty
mothballed coats

in the closet
strung like latent
trysts
listless
and long forgotten

Not Even Death

when everything
is gone
nothing matters

the only place
you still exist
is barely even tangible

but you don’t care
no one cares

not even death

and so it persists

The Last Pain

fading in
and out of shadows
faces
of bizarre contortion
glaring
as a stranger’s
features
reach into
this bed of famine

trapped within
these walls
without you

terror-stricken

anxious

reeling

haunted
by fates unforeseen

fleeing
from my own escape
on paper
pouring totured
thoughts

poring over
art
distraught
in attics
dimly lit
amid daunting stacks
bearing chronicles
so unfamiliar

taunting
with disparity
the stalking stares
cast cold as steel

the last pain
I am left to feel
is lost to numbness
pitted in this hole
that was my conscience

Stranded On the Precipice

death escaped
my hands

and left me

standing at the altar

the emptiness
received me
like a self-
inflicted wound

in a room
adorned with trinkets of trifle

faintly linking
my alter-ego
to this faux land

of vaulted heart
and vapid mind

where visions turn
away
afraid
to learn

of their inbound
inception

this blunderous aberration
has no station

nor foot
to find it steady

a cistern of depleted days
precedes each ghastly step
in protest

stranded
on the precipice
of a sempiternal impasse

surely they jest
upon questioning
assent to my depression

such pain belies
its own expression

and politesse yet stays
my tongue

To LIVE

To LIVE

is to have

the TRUTH
of one’s individual
PERSONAL
experience

perpetually

INVALIDATED

by the WORLD

around you

with special

EMPHASIS

on those
who ARE poised

to KNOW

YOU best

Pavlovian Lapdogs

petulant plebians pandering prose
spawned out of spite from depictions composed
of pithless and petty ploys poised to appease
a princess of poisonous pedantry peeved
with patrons plucked patiently tempered by pique
their person purloined spurred by spurious speech
supinely complying peremptorily
pliable pupils impaired by erred pleas
obsequious as pavlovian lapdogs
a precedent of appalling demagogue
imparting dispatch surreptitiously reaped
to pose such a perfect impression oblique
to passively present through public dispose
promotion of disreputable depose
to please their despot’s pathetic importunes
perilous plots born of perceived impugn
sparing none, for all are prone as her pawns
through solipsist eyes of contempt and despond

Cautionary Tail

a boot was lodged in my caboose
the day i shook an apple loose
from high atop its lofty perch
where once it fell i thusly searched
but though i heard it hit the ground
it seemed that it could not be found
this apple had been such a prize
it quickly became of my eye
i knew i dare not let it fall
into a den where earthworms crawl
the sound it made seemed to suggest
it landed ‘neath a nearby nest
that housed a rather irate bird
which i had recently disturbed
and as i looked i heard it mocking
dousing me with many droppings
i resolved nary a wrath
would steer me from this apple’s path
perhaps it rolled away i thought
but soon a hole found my foot caught
which sent me lunging toward a bush
brimming with thorns which pierced my tush
i looked to see my boot was stuck
when from behind my head was struck
by many discontented squirrels
in shock i watched their fury unfurl
with such profusity ne’er seen
did acorns rain upon my dream
in spite of this, i forged ahead
and trampled through a flower bed
attended by a perturbed granny
swinging as to strike my fanny
with her rake with aim precise
assailing me not once but thrice
and when it seemed that all was calm
a beehive landed like a bomb
releasing plumes of raging bees
who did not seem to hear my pleas
they stung me until i ballooned
into a bulbous red buffoon
at which point one would think to quit
but this man never would submit
i then retraced my steps to see
my prized apple’s trajectory
which much to my shock and surprise
atop the tree did it reside
with one boot on i made the climb
to reach the limb where it did lie
but as i inched along its branch
i heard a creak ever most scant
as one might guess i tumbled down
and when my bottom touched the ground
it was then met by my lost boot
with such a force it breached my chute
and to this day it yet remains
as for the apple who can say
i beg thee take heed, hear my words
lest such a fate ever absurd
befall your precious buns of steel
when apples of aplomb appeal
apppear to be just out of reach
it might prove wise to leave them be

Hollow Home

the distant
droning

of undulate
whirring

persisting

shifting
into hours

the lonesome
shrill
of a room
filled with faces

whose failure
to listen

eclipses quietus

quashed

beneath the anguish
of this bedlam
mind

what darkness
familiar
yet follows

unfurling

the fears
of forgotten
infernos

unduly writhing

beneath twilight
reflections

Revolution

in spite
of mountains
of might

air
bears no impression

for years
we watched

lying rigid
in piqued
anticipation

every time we looked
away
the day had since fallen

even still

do we burn
holes in the ceiling

retraversing every misstep

Wrought with Misery

silence ever
bleeds eternal

on such
darkened eves

huddled
in the farthest
reach

of hidden
memories

barren conscience
lies below

where
shallow whispers
breathe

brandishing
the burdens
buried ‘neath
a bed of leaves

once
shone verdant
in their glory

now tinged
with decay

tucked
in scattered layers

singed
in tattered
disarray

everything
that mattered

faded
in a distant scene

drifting
into nonexistent

narratives
serene

pages bare
the words
unspoken

waging wars
unseen

wading
in the erstwhile
waters

wrought
with misery

Realm of Influence

edging
ever closer

to the air

which will grant
my final breath

until then

i am
wedged

between this
untold boulder

and life
unfolding

Shades of Pompeii

somewhere
along this wayward
path

i lost
the sum
of you

in broken
buttons

crumpled
papers

whispers

faintly
promised

to reflections

we once
bared

scattered
over trails
capricious

memories
thread precious
pleas

plotting
their escape

like petty fools
from plighted faith

parched
from implore

upending
thoughts

would mark
the path

that led me
to your vested
heart

when vagrants
sought
the stars

and charted
the descending
hours

of our last
reverie

rapt
in such despair

’til all
that i could
see

were driftless
streaks
of blackness
stripped

amid
the grip
of shame

unearthed

where flashing
shades
of pompeii

stayed
in grim dispart

impressed
upon

the distant
sky
estranged

a world
apart

End of Deus

stifled

by the sound
of words
preserved

perched
in a madman’s
hallucination

of halcyon days

ere hope
had wintered
this vale

velleity
vanquished
its ceremony

in sermon
rescinded
from restive
err

 

 

[photo: Art Redwing & Alberta Kelm]

“Choices”

no woman chooses.

the word “choice”
is a quaint affectation
of male privilege

one that shifts
the burden
onto the woman’s shoulders

with a simple
single syllable
of sinister
silver-tongue

that speaks volumes
of the depraved disconnect
of daddy’s deflection

defecting

neglecting

such wretched
subjection

to misogynist mindsets
that fret
at any hint
shown to impede
its quest for glory

its aweless reverie

of his requisite bequest

that rests for no burden
not even those wrought
by its own wanton hands

with nary a thought

for the “choice”
lies with man

to own up to his deeds
to reap what was sown
beyond his own base needs

choosing not to desert
to then foster a trust
that would honor what is just

by accepting
the circumstance born
of his lust

he must stand tall supinely
to shatter all doubt
in the matters regarding
the wrath of his route

for women most oft
are forever distraught

abandoned
bereft
left exploited
with naught

whilst these men prance
with ease
frolicking fancy-free
fleeing scene
with the breeze
having sown their ill-seed

for their ego
surpasses all
with such vomitous gall
as a life is forestalled

ne’er to answer the call
so appalling this trait
leaving life in its wake
only flight will he take
once his whim has been slaked
without further adieu
in a cloud of hot dust
and a fervid salute
served most proud and abrupt
rendering hearts nonplussed
like a billowing gust
once his will has been thrust
turns militantly brusque
with such fierce flippancy
throws all under the bus
in a thunderous peal
it’s a wonder surreal
as the moment reveals
what his true heart conceals

but there is no appeal
to that which cannot feel
so this dastardly deal
is so masterfully sealed
as a bastard is reared
in a fluster of tears
with a father not there
never bothered to care
not a moment to spare
to prevent all the fears
wrought by scrutinous stares
lurid thoughts turpid lots
from a surrogate’s leer
innocence left defenseless
for reasons so senseless
a treasonous pretense
to heathens demented

still lacking incentive
to try to prevent this
fate of such portending
consequence unending
of futures surrendered
no suture could mend
ill-repute so contentious
yet still men dispute
and refute their subjection
and all for the sake
of their putrid compulsions
so duly revulsing
profanely effusive
the lives left behind
are not those
which they must live
and thus it is a shit
for which they do not give
so willing to forfeit
the world they created
but for a mere moment
of fleeting amusement
that spurns an entire
existence
so uselessly
suffered for naught
and for what
but their ego’s
egregious gestalt

Another Day

another day

another chance
to wallow
in this hollow
fetid shell

another dance
amid the fallout
of this self
constructed hell

forever burdened
by this curse
immersed in faded
aquarelle

ever is this
burgeoning dearth
fated
until i am
felled

Can’t

You can’t
give
Up
On life

And place
The responsibility
Of your
Existence

On another

I can
Cook
For you

But

I can’t
Eat
For you

You can’t
Call me
Murderer

Because
I can’t
Live
Your life
For you

How could you

How can I

We can’t