Our Contempt Unmasked

Our breath is atrocious, crowding the air, our teeth, fanged relics slanted, bent of intolerance and proud minds fetching the face of wretchedness with leaching maws of foaming hatred. We must find our contempt unmasked, find our repugnant and false-hearted wars most contemptible as we use our depraved dribble to spackle the holes we’ve put in love.

Tell me, oh mighty war, that they did not suffer? Tell me, oh potent combat, that they didn't needlessly die for our mantle and plot? Oh reckless courage, collateral death, are we set to fail love?

Humankind's blind grasp of truth is no more than a churning obituary held up to fading mirror...

Comments

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

read the poem

SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

read the poem

THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

read the poem

CONFESSION ZERO

Search This Blog