Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Story of the Last Breath

Here lies the last breath
Its shallow embrace
Haunted by the remnants
Of a former human
Particles lost in the wind
Mixing among the filth
Traces all but lost

The crosshairs of a sniper 
Speak to me in a way
That I will never be able 
To physically express
With life and death in hand
And the precise Extreme
And the extreme Precise

Can you make the judgement?
Will you silence a soul?
What right do you posses?
How can you justify action?
What makes a man a devil?
What makes a devil a man?
Do you know which is the last breath?

As a shallow exhale
Fills the void
Inhale
Life...

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

N Y C

Get the Fuck out of my way
Mutters the old vet
As snot freezes to his nose

Ge the Fuck out of my way
Shouts the accented Hindi
As traffic backs up one light down

Get the Fuck out of my way
Says the fat balding tourist
As giggling Asians crowd his pic

Get the Fuck out of my way
Warns the obnoxious gweedo
As his train leaves the station

And as a thousand feet crush
Their own Rubber tread on to
Pavement lined with shit and
Countless wrappers and old gum
With millions of hearts beating
Simultaneously in a
Second, and I feel the soul
Of a great and majestic town
Rush forward with carelessness
Heedless fearless Abandon

Thanks be
That I can be free
And eternally damned
With vendors foods spammed
And cardboard for sleep
And fine silk upon to weep
Thanks be
That I have my own tub of Not Yo Cheese!

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Shock and Awe

Smoke
Rise
Ashes
Fall
Boots
Stomp
Captive
Cries
Soldier
Dies


Thursday, January 15, 2009

Fallen

Come into my box!
Says the old beggar man
To the angel at his door
I cannot, please do not tempt me,
For I am Fallen, from World and Man
Says the old beggar man
Let me pick you up
And we shall fly together
Till the Sun sets no more
And the Angel points to charred nubs
Where once great wings had been
And points up into the air
Where filth has set the sun forever more
What have you done?
Says the old beggar man
To which the Angel replies
I could not let myself be guided
By fate and other's desire
And so I took the plunge
And fell beyond the reach of saints
Of lovers and of demons
Heaven help me cried the beggar
That I cannot do says the Angel
For I have decided to let it go
No, please do not cries the Beggar
What would you have me do
Shouts the Angel to all
You defile what I have given
You forsake what i tell you
You hate without remorse
I see no other option
Than to let you go your way
Says the old beggar man
Do as you wish, for i grant freedom
And mercy and justice and reprieve
Stay in my house
For it is sanctuary and home
Says the Angel without wings
Forgive me, for I have sinned

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Shooting at Nukes

So your government says today
That it ain't safe for your children to go outside and play
So you sit them down,
give them the talk,
That reality is too harsh
And TV's where its at
And an artificial glow fills their eyes
Too bad it ain't the sun.

So your government thought you knew
That your water is contaminated and will probably kill you
So you shut off your tap,
Open your nice cold fridge,
And crack the lid of a Dasani
Which is filled to the brim
With the same stuff you were about to ingest 
Just a few short moments ago.

So your government has some breaking news
That the reds are attacking, and it is not a good time to be blue. 
So you gather your children,
And huddle in your home,
Listening to passing jets
As they drop bombs
Onto the house of your neighbor just down the street,
Who was on vacation.

So your government has something to tell
That you need to be patient while they turn your life into a private hell
So you sit by your table,
Piles of taxes on your floor,
With red eyes and despair
And an empty bank account
And an empty fridge, house, garage, and no more time
To pay for your torture

So your government wants you to stay put
That even though life is hard, things will be much, much better
So you grab your gun,
Gather fellows and friends,
Run into the streets, torches alit!
The mob forms from all corners
The government can only shoot at nukes for so long,
before they all go off.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Leeerrrroyyyyy!

Poor poet
Never gets to know
That feeling that others get
When they read his poems
Only what they tell him,
And never the direct emotion
Poor poet only gets
the gift of giving
and never the gift of receiving
Oh well, says the poet
At least I have chicken!

Gods for a Second

With ice in our throats
And the pale moon in our eyes
With wind that tore life from our skin
And rock beneath our feet
We trekked to the top
To the Summit
To the Sunrise

As we crested the top our blood became the ice,
Our skin as pale as the moon
The wind became our private hell
And the rock sucked out any hope of heat
We stood there as statues
As warriors
And waited

The numb spread from every pore
Into our hearts did it seep
Into our very existence
Until our souls became hard and cold
We waited for saving grace
For an end to our watch
And froze

The dark did not lift
The cold did not break
The wind did not cease
Our vigil did not die
We knew we were close to victory
We knew we were not dead
Yet

We had climbed a mountain
We had woken in the dead of the night
We had assembled for splendor
We had not fallen yet
We were not about to give in
To surrender
To lose!

And the Sun crested
Our skin took on a healthy hue
Our eyes became golden orbs
Our souls broke free
And we were gods for a second
We climbed down
As victors