Skip to main content

Code of Justice (13th Violent Verse)


I had a reputation a long time ago, I stood up to violence, to myself.

Early on I was strong willed, unafraid to hurt another, bust down the door, carried to bad reputation, fast, strong, underscored in a way without me. Trolley tracks on the highway, across the street, barbed wire base, parking lot towers, shore patrol see me, stumbling hair lip, bloody, busted, black-eyed gusher, tears from four and twenty bucks.Strategic tallness, strong laughter, coolness, colors larger than me, beating me down.

Jokers off another ship, against the fence, leaning from going down, wailing on my ire, victimless crime, photo, rahhhhh! Captain says, serve and protect. Towering eyes, stop drop and run down the easement, ship's bugler summons me and you and the fenced in trolley getaway. Made it home late, made it to safety, Lucky Thirteen. Bordered by authority, flagship admiral returns to the scene of carnage.

She cries. Everyone cries ...up until the end.


© 2010 by mark prime


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........                  •HEAD-LINES•                           •RIP•     ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)---    There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God…    ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)---    Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God…    ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)---    I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...

Waiting for It

Why do they stay there, between war and peace? Sky’s tapestry doles out guns, bombs and rocks while flesh and bone swim away from the ache yet live on as the food for the murder of peace. Why do we hide from the truth as if it were an ogre while death makes a home inside their living and war dispatches a raven to their door, smirking with the teeth of empire? Why do we wait, stooped for another wink? The sky’s drapery has tossed down ample clues, peace is breathing in harmony with war. (Road-maps are useless to blind leaders.) Why do they hold there, hunched in the gloom? Hatred’s bird cackling with bereavement needs end. Are we not rightly dishonored when we fill its trough with blood? © 2007 mrp/thepoetryman