Genocide

Sitting beneath the blinding lights
sweat beading upon his  brow
waiting
impatient
to spread the good word
of
hatred
intolerance
violence
tidbits to tear a world
a nation
a country
apart.
Venomous spittle
sprayed across the face
raging
foaming
lunatic
could someone turn his mic off?
Burgeoning fear can be felt
despair
angst
as his rhetoric
fans the flames
stirring up the masses
until
like a powder keg
kaboom!
Blood will run in rivers
cascading over concrete curbs
triumph for one
marks the genocide of many.
November 4/18
Photo by Dikaseva on Unsplash
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Chaos

Chaos.
Beautiful colors
gold
mauve
crimson
dance around my arching body.
Weaving my fingers
colored trendles pulled near
I make a tether
a leash
to keep me close
to Chaos.
With Chaos
I find reason
I find understanding
I find truth.
With Chaos
I cry
I rage
I forgive.
Chaos
rainbow colors
twisting
tying
pulling me close.
A lover of color and light.
Sept. 29/18
Photo by Petra Brýdlová on Unsplash

Subvert

**I submitted two poems to The New Yorker. This is one of the two. I obviously was rejected but I can say with pride I was rejected by The New Yorker.***
There is an evil rot within
leaching from the heart
any illusion
that there remains some good.
Time and time again
it has been proven
that society has become doomed
trading away
ethics
morals
basic humanity.
Twisting and subverting
with each falsehood told
embraced
with zeal
religious fevor
becoming the very demon
decried as the enemy.
We have failed.
We have lost our way.
One by one
we have been corrupted
by lies
by slight of hand
and the tears that are wept
fall between the cracks
in this desert land.
©Feb. 23/18
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

High Rent Girl

You be thinking….
thinking
you a high rent girl
waiting for a sugar daddy
or just a daddy
to pay your bills.
You spend your time
your money
on looking ferocious
ignoring those who need care…..
because to dance a dance
to catch a mate
or rather a protector
bill payer
just another man to milk.
You strut
saunter
think that you look hot
but darlin’ please
you look like a silly twat.
Be thinking you a high rent girl
that any man would be lucky to have you.
Honey hate to burst that bubble
you ain’t no high rent girl
only a low rent bitch.
Sept. 28/18
Photo by Mikail Duran on Unsplash

20/20

Looking back
it is easy to see
as they say
hindsight is 20/20.
I delighted in fire
flame
burning debris
still wonder
how I did not burn that place down?
Vicious words
pelting down
tearing
rending
piercing
exposed flesh.
I need time
time to adjust
to come to terms
with yet another aspect
of my past
my history.
Rage
inferior
tagged to be little
never was I important enough.
Looking back
I can finally see
veil torn from my eyes
the monster before me.
There was no love.
There was no pride in me.
I was superfluous
an afterthought
a child weaned on fear
disgrace
disregard
left to herself
her own care.
Heart torn
rent
beaten flat
left to defend
shield
armor myself
for yet another blow
another hit
another hurricane
blowing me apart.
Sept. 25/18

Spirits

Crimson lips
dipped in poison
whisper pious words.
Head bent forward
prayer of supplication
no need to fear.
Cross to bear
my own.
Hatred to shed
yours.
Unsure if I am able to go forward
without the abuse of your dead.
Walking amongst the forgotten
fingers trailing
whisping frost
disintergrating
from my warm touch.
Each spirit I stroke
echoes  a plea
‘let me go’.
I look to release them
from this plane.
Forgiveness is not required.
I see thickened strands
black shadows
acting as shackles
keeping them close to me.
With a single thought
I unlock each one
allowing the spirits to flee.
Sept. 7/18
Photo by Michael Weidner on Unsplash

Boogeyman

His shadow spreads
over bitter walls
skeletal fingers
creep along
scritching
scratching
he wants to come in.
Hidden under the covers
trying to ignore the fear
counting beneath your breath
please do not let him come near.
Each footstep
each creak of the floor
an indication that he is coming closer.
Mouth working
throat closing
your scream comes out
as a whispered no.
Terror holds you tight
an embrace you cannot escape from
the door slowly opens
as you squeeze your eyes shut.
Like a child
you are convinced
that if you cannot see him
He cannot see you.
Covers slowly pulled away
a low moaning hiss
fingers pressing
nay bruising into your flesh
as you struggle to awaken
away from this horror
towards the sunrise.
August 31/18
Picture via: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/804596289653185639/