Illusion of Civility

the sentence of silence
so few dare to ponder

untold worlds so scarcely beheld

presumed to be something
altogether non-existent
if even regarded in any respect

a consequence foregone
not of their own doing

encountered, in most circumstances
thought only a burden

this, by the very ones
who had begotten their very existence

at best, ignored
at worst, and most typical, degraded
ridiculed
teased
bullied
harrassed
taunted
mocked
thought of as nothing
the list goes on
without end
as they are made to suffer
without further thought

taken only at face value
and that, of what merit?

living, breathing, feeling individuals
of infinite complexity
reduced to the confines
of our grave misperceptions

tucked away neatly in alternate circles
so that we might safely know not of their existence

shuffled away into quaint little busses
a vacuous vaunt to avail our insecurities
by insulting our peers

and them
were we ever thus made to withstand the affront of their presence

how callous and cruel could we possibly be?

and to dare think ourselves as being human

humanity begins in our wasteland of disregard

it is there where we will find
the base truth of our sympathy
empathy
compassion

these words offer nothing
but titular arrogance

ever so smitten
with our sculptures of charity

nary do any of us stand to comprehend
the scope of our blaringly blatant indiscretion

if such is the case
that even those closest related
are most guilty of all
in their failure to see
what their own eyes bear witness to

in its full scope

then what hope
if any
do we stand as a species?

our civilization
can only be gauged
by our treatment of those
not given a voice

subject to the mercy
of choices
made by those left to speak for them

and by this
i submit
our civility
is naught
but the grandest
of all our illusions

[image credit: Georges Barbier]

Nomenclature’s Foment

hearti(kin drama, us
tin)ctures of (christ
in era y)et fallen
through (eyes + words)

with garish ha(lo

ise* linkens**)
aglow, a(toms latin)ise (jasper

kerk au)spiciously entered
and soon (chronos fer)vidly
slaked with fla(sk nichol

as) (my valiant soul)
had no b(yas sy)mbolically

it wa(s a man, Thaluc
ero)s and (weird weekend’s) (ward

clever) was his (first secret

draft)ed on (a nam)eless shore

still, it was (just

joan) of arc (me)ekly swore
that’s when i r(ann

a cottage), by loo(ks

be th)at, as it was
moored by the gl(aur

o Ra, Phoen
ix)tles wou(n)d
round my gossamer neck

my sight was a mino(taur
using EMI*** ni)ctitation

with ab(ash, “do u glas)sify god?”

i said “no. but my ser(aph
rol in a)sp tear’s radius

a blasphemous vete(ran
a kelly) green worn beret

etched astrobl(eme kao****

fili)greed (flo

raw ora)tory s(marts)

with leimoti(v i shal

dutia)ble, as (the perilous
reading society)’s fortune(s

and stars blo g)usts wayward

revealing such a (finding
kan dee)motivate every (child
of cynicism) sleekly polished

with ban(jo lies
in tic)-tocked drea(ms
jade-li)ke dianthus lament (living
as tan ya)rrow (little bird learns

to fly)te is to flourish
in full-fledged swara(j
dub)bed ledge-leaped freedom

the pande(mick hughes) fill the sky
more ohm t(hann ahm

unroe)mantic fi(ni

cole ly on s)oot-laden kisse(s
d)ismantling ana(malic

I c I
afro st)reets of ol’ (georgia
park)ed neath an amarant(h owl

D.A. vies) ever
to capture the (olde pun

k)nowing that soon
this will all come to close

•Key•
*ise 異背 – alligator (Japanese)
**linkens – left [transitive] (German)
***EMI – Electro-Magnetic Interference
****kao 顔 – face (Japanese)
∞Bonus oddity – combining 異背 ise with kao 顔 transmorgriphies into 異背顔 [ise-gao], meaning “heterogeneous face”

[image credit: Louis Wain]

Summer’s Stay

it is only
by your hand

that i have ever known
of happiness

in the days
of verdant fleeing

further
than could fill the eye

it was you
and i
as nature

sprawling Rosy Fairy Lantern’s light
through Mustang Clovers
endless rows
arose Sierra Columbine
and Blazing Stars
of Indian Paintbrush
lingering
on the lake
along with Larkspur
and Lupine

still
i must confess
the scented prism
of your tresses

mesmerized
my waking dream

unfolding
a golden emergence

in shaded respite
the world would shrink
like boulders slow succumb
to sand

analyzing every aspect
quantum flecks
to speckled skies

all i ever cherished
lay beside me

in the squander
of youth

not a word
was left unheard

as brief
as summer’s stay

[image credit: Ansel Adams]

Transposing

holding on
with humbled heart
the hills succumbed
before me

raging
like the devil’s hearth
the earth
left drab and scorched

once
while perched
atop these peaks
a piece of me
quietly departed

unaware
until descent
the direness
of this spiraled dream

e’er i shall
endure its depths
as death reigns long
in sorrowed rain

this fallow ground
on which i stand
alluring
with its thoughts
impure

now conjuring
a new entreaty

beading
upon burdened brow

the briars
of ambrosia

tortured truths
remain
untouched

as tempest
tramples all terrain

and virtue
proven
unavailing

sovereignty
disavowed

our souls
denied
a savior

though Nature gasps
in ashen breaths

her song persists
transposed

[image credit: Milton Avery]

Stop or I Lop It

there should really be
some kind of
penis purgatory

for the expiation
of this appalling appendage

and its plethora
of perpetual perpetrations

imposing an impotence
permanent

for its presumed
omnipotence

propelled by a petulance
spurred by its misapprehension
of perceived deprivations
and supplantation
of its deepest paranoia
pending inconsequence
and subsequent need
for incessant placation
from people abound

i submit
that penis is synonymous
with the id of male ego

from pliable pink-tipped inadequacy

to piercing impale of pleasantries forgone

poking
and prodding
sans any apology

haplessly trodding
on that which it pleases
for self-validation
of urges capricious

a paragon
of base instant gratification

to which true compassion
opposes emphatically

no more pitching of tents
no more focal points fixed on dubious bulges
no more pencils in pockets
no more untoward questions
as to whether or not
they’re just happy to see us

no more furtive pocket pool
people can see what you’re doing there
unimpressed
and worse, terrified

no conquest-driven instantaneous detachment
metaphorically speaking
but don’t you dare think
that i won’t just detach it

no more of this daunting affront to humanity
“flaunting” the threat of barbarian legacy

no more judging scant leaflets
by filigreed covers

true power is only attained
through self-discipline
nothing is gained through tyranny
save for misery

only the weakest
feel compelled to subjugate

please cover that hideous thing up already
the neighbors will think you a despot irrelevant
vying for dominance

pitifully plying for lauding opinions
from cowed Stockholm audiences fast seeking exit

look, we all get it
you need to be worshipped

just try to remember
that nobody gives a shit

take your sexist expectations
home to your bed

ruminate long and hard
until this truth gets through to your heads

Preoccupation

to have arrived
is to die

I have since
surrounded myself
with cut-out cardboard
reconfigured with no particular preference

staples and tape

to ward off the hatred

a color completely devoid
of vindictiveness

the windowless model is quite suitable

for I have not the time
to look up
and ahead

I am far too caught-up
in this whole “being dead” thing

oh, what a dreadful façade

[image credit: Jan Toorop]