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Cautionary Tales (Head-Lines - Friday, May 20th)

(Hadron Collider from engadget)

Was Roswell 'Flying Saucer' Mystery a Soviet Plot?
There are limits to a thickening plot even where aliens rise.

Their skin had my attention as it glided by my befuddled gaze, passed by in solemnity, large eyes, without panic. They landed with a warning, a kind message for a self-destructing world.

Doomsdays: Dubious and Deferred
The endurance of the tick tock grumbles near me, marking off a cautionary demise. Three, two… One minute out. The racket of the car horn, the driver crashing fists through time.

Mummy Had Earliest Case of Heart Disease
Kings wrapped in golden hearts called out to sleepy sentinels nodding their walk along the turret, “Be vigilant! Protect your king!”

Silence…

Syrian troops 'kill 30 protesters after Friday prayers’
Love untaken still floats with fondness. Lethal bullets pierce proper affections. Prayers not flown, sink in sorrow. Murder given away flies deeper.

Israel's Netanyahu rejects Obama proposal on borders
Proposals are meant to be broken like the glass that holds the ax. They know rejection more than I. Desire. Dread. Deceit. Genocide.


© 2011 by mark prime

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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
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Per Plex Ed

            PER+PLEX-ED When you haven’t heard the truth in so long, when you do, it rings a most familiar s ong. That’s the human song, the truth rolling out exactly when it should.      (If a truth is told and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound only to the one that spoke it?)    Yes, but our ears aren’t strong enough to hear it.     [a perplexed silence] © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
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