The Paragon of Hell

Our children die on the battlefields
In the wars despots declare.
Bloated, pompous leaders
Spewing hate from the space
Between clenched jaws.
The other side of the conflict
Sends it's children as well.
Children killing children
The paragon of hell.
Mother Earth weeps as she
Soaks up the blood of lost youth.
Ashes to ashes
The conflagration of innocence
Dust to dust
Our future slaughtered
For savagery's lust.

copyright 1/24/2012

A NATION OF CONSUMERS

Hedonistic
Materialistic
A nation of consumers
Rampant
Unnerving
Babies left starving
We buy
We devour
Mindless
Incessant
A nation of consumers
Unbridled
Aggressive
Babies left starving
Widgets and gadgets
Our glorious delight
Possessing an unfair share
A nation of consumers
Manipulated
Over-indulged
Insatiable
Babies left starving
The earth mourns
It is breaking
Drowning in gluttony
We live to consume
Conquest
Possess
A nation of consumers
Babies left starving.


copyright 1/24/2012

"To understand everything is to forgive everything." Buddah

The mental schism is daunting. I against I, yet who remains standing after such a battle? Hopefully, the better 'I'.

Irrational Epiphany

Emancipated from the box
Of rational thought
The irrational becomes an epiphany
Attainable Salvation.
Free of the confines
Of outdated modus of operandi
New synapses utilized
New pathways formed
A new journey forged
Alleviation.
The hell of the mundane
Capsized in uncharted waters
Seas of rejuvenation
Bring awareness
Bring peace
What lies ahead
Does not remember yesterday.

When we desire nothing, we have everything.

FISH IN A BARREL

The mating game
A perilous endeavor
The meek are slaughtered
Exalted, the clever
Slinky dresses, painful heels
The price we will pay
To compete and allure
And win affections.
Lined up like the inventory in a store
Wrapped in a pretty shell of beads and couture
The aim of this game
Can be likened to war.
Our intentions are fierce
For, the target is scarce.
We destroy the opponent
We injure and maim
We blasphemize and tarnish
With no conscience, no shame.
Our decadent, devious demise
The battlefield has been bloodied
The losers left lame.
And for what prize has this wrath been wrought?
Perhaps fortune...
Perhaps fame...
To marry well
Has wrought this hell.
Yes, oh yes, we are to blame.
For the psyches and spirits of our SISTERS have been slain.
At the end of the day
We are, as we remain
But fish in a barrel
The pawns of this game.