Bag of Wind

At first it seemed to entertain
an idiot and his world.
People sat
glued to their televisions
watching 
laughing
sure he was a goon.
Behind the scenes
various acts play out
all designed
to ensure
success
not failure.
Stand
boasting of all you have
all you own…..
Your kept wives.
Your forgotten children.
You know no love.
You know not…..
compassion
sympathy
empathy
all you know
a confidence game
give them a show
fall they will
stars in their eyes.
When the first bomb exploded
you assured all you could handle
no one would dare attack again
for you are the greatest
they need to fear.
Scales begin to fall
truth becomes lies
lies become truth
infatuation dissolving
as the mask crumbles
with your childish tirades.
You are not the new god.
You are not the new hope.
You are not even a man
but a small child
whose parents never disciplined.
Tantrums and tirades
deceit and distortion
red faced
throw self to ground
screaming in rage
when everyone fails to play your way.
Your game.
Your rules.
Poor man
(not a man)
Poor boy
(play at war)
should we annihilate?
©Aug. 3/19
Picture via Pinterest

My Fault

I first saw him
standing along the shoreline
quiet contemplation
handsome brow
lean physique.
I slowly walked by
furtitive glances from beneath my lashes
wondering if he noticed me
at all?
I found the courage
the ability to say hello
though my voice cracked
my hands trembled
I stuttered over my tongue.
We talked
listened
heard the stories
each had to tell
so smart
intelligent
caring
he had me fooled.
Waters painted golden
blood red
by the setting sun
he turned to me
tender smile….
pushing me back
he ripped my clothing
telling me it was all my fault.
With tears on my cheeks
I stared beyond his heaving shoulder
my infatuation destroyed
savaged
murdered
as the misdeed went on.
Sept. 20/18
Photo by Kat J on Unsplash