Word of the Day Challenge #55-Untitled Poem

Howling at the moon

mange eaten dog

baying strength

snapping at rivals

sure

so very sure

of its place in the pack.

Alpha.

Believed to be.

Joker.

Even that is an insult.

To the Joker.

Manipulator.

Manipulated is more like.

Stroke that ego.

Play to its insecurities

puffed up pride

strut like a peacock

one has to wonder

what is it like to live in its world?

Throwing money around

rippling like water

talk so loud

inane mutterings

seriously

is he insane?

Narcissism.

Grandiose claims

of being bigger than any god

past

present

or

future.

Claims have been floated

of how popular he is

(was) 

leading the world anew

rebuilding

strengthening the walls

keeping out the riffraff

or so he claims.

Question? 

Over here:

lean forward

eager to spew

indoctrinated passive voice.

Loved by the man

adored by thousands of women

all children want to be his.

Yes

Yes

is there a question in this?

How did a man such as he

adored

desired

(maligned)

much maligned

by those who do not know

(do not understand)

how is it….. 

please do explain…..

he lost those millions 

had to be crowned 

by his peers

only now to implode?

Straighten from the podium

mouth slitted in rage

arm out

finger pointing

let’s go

it is time to leave.

Point has been made

flashed across the screen

even with no answer forthcoming.

Minds begin to stir

awakening from dubious air

time for change

it’s a’comin’.

©August 31/19

Picture via Pinterest

Word of the Day Challenge #54-Untitled Poem

***This poem is a continuation of Sister’s Shade and Bitter Spectre . Again these poems deal with sensitive issues.***

Flesh 

stretched taut over broken skull

eyes sunken

forever looking inward

escaping mirrored glare.

Life went down in a flash

fire burned 

she wanted to forget.

To run away.

Gaunt

sinew and muscle

consumed as fuel.

She huddles

invisible

hidden

hair over face

teeth cracked

decayed

falling out…..

broken

blackened

hurting in her head.

They ground her.

Keep her feeling pain.

Gashes in her arms

festering pus glows

never enough to kill herself

do any lasting harm.

She had luck.

Always found.

Always cradled.

Always…..

brought back from the brink of hell.

She tried.

Put herself in danger.

Ripped open her veins.

Drank to oblivion and beyond.

Took drugs and more.

Every time

she awoke to the same living nightmare.

One she knew well.

The view never changed.

Her eyes flutter open

pain ripping through anew

bending over her

face twisted in anguished wail

eyes blackened with rage

sister soul eater

her revenge…..

©August 30/19

Picture via Pinterest