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Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH...
In this; the blistering wave, what is remembered but the last, the most recent detonation of everlasting war darkening even the most well lit sphere? That which calls down its subjects to deliver sermons on the back of the sun for a people that believe in faith more than themselves in the hearth of holiness that goes unchained? Anything less (or more)… A fire burns.
Everything is contaminated, dirty. Terror is the cable which straps the bomb, fear; its cart. The derelict move about, carrying on, as one-eyed kings and their henchmen, whose hands are honed into razors and whose hearts strike as drums echoing low the streets, chop the wooden throats of the guilty trees. In this sphere hope shrinks of its throbbing bravery.
“This is no way to live!” explodes the seers. “This is pure folly bathing in impure madness!” But not to any invisible deity or dream merchant, like children holding hands praying to escape the cynical hands of their fathers, the gods of youth safely hold them. The seers implore mankind, pleading that hope still flows with bright and igniting flesh retaining the power to bow humanity. Of this authority we lend our flesh for there is nothing else to save, the only course to lift us out, up from soiled failure, above the turgid shackles binding our feet to war.
O! Let this be our mission! Let it be our heartrending sermon running like rivers over our lips into the heart of every city, into the brightest lamppost- "War must be shackled and marched into the fire."
© 2008 mrp/tpm
Posted by Mark R. Prime head-lines on Jul 15, 2008
As Oil Firms Seek Drilling Access, Exports Set Record
The gush begins to throttle the boot-scratched soil, dark hour, the needle points upon his arm, half meth, half liquid gold. Stumbling, stinking, orgasmic in his reach he pushes for his pleasures profit- drill drill drill!
Missing Soldiers Found
Beneath a pocked sky of stars the soldier’s bodies lay; flat, twisted like her dreams. Nothing much left of their smiling, her grimace, two spent shells where the dew left its traces of the twin rivers. At last, with dull cadence they fly.
Iraq War Effects Missing from Coverage of Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac
When soldiers are silent, we pack their goods in sacks and mail them home. Bailed out of the raging quagmire they’re now free to move again, yet not past our eyes or able to pull the chute.
Wisconsin law: Gay couples can be imprisoned, fined $10,000
The march to freedom is riddled with effort and ennui. They come to the altar carrying the eagle’s prize, not as beasts, but as people, humans holding riches.
Living a Dead Dream
The people, we are ingesting hunger-born seed whose offspring tear at our flanks with the white teeth of dreams, biting into our flesh, canines of living’s deceased.
(The radio alarm blares...)
"Good morning, world. It’s time to rise and shine. Shake off those cobwebs. Sober up, feed the kids and head for work! Here’s a little something to help you along; the Revolutionary the one and only- Katy Perry with 'I Kissed a Girl'! Bang bang wakey wakey and change the world!
Posted by Mark R. Prime head-lines on Jul 7, 2008
Truck bomb kills 7 people near Baghdad
The surge is working, flew the eagle. The course is dead, soared the seven souls. O! The fetid nature of disagreement!
US escalating covert operations against Iran: report
Boom bam and a rat a tat tat listen for “war” inside of that a rat a tat boom boom bam! Cover thy ears, people of Iran... (America’s coming to free you)
Election May Tip High Court's Judicial Scales
Shroud these arbitrators in sacred vestments, cloak them in mystery, anoint with holy water and deliver this newfound land from its wickedness.
Army Study Blasts Post-Invasion Efforts in Iraq
The aftermath stumbles on unsteady legs. Neither the heart nor soul can end its drumming step. It doesn’t listen nor does it speak. It chooses not to live on the back of treason.
Obama Supporters Take His Name as Their Own
What’s in a name? Identity? Persuasion? History can inform us… if we listen. She can bring us beyond our labels "Blessing, the good” above the armor of our ancestors glinting silver fangs in the sky.
© 2008 mrp/tpm