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| art by David Ho © |
the anti-crime lights at night
are emblematic : a systematic breakdown of society ...
a little by little, decorum and civil structure wane ...
no respite no retreat no reversing the damages caused
disbelief in the face of death and a mighty death at that
on hand to wring in the new dawn every day
a new year begins somewhere ...
the streetlights are cameras
and the speakers are echo cardiology agents
pause pulse rhythm un-trackers ...
there are no places
that seem out of place
when it comes to
streamlining information
into a bullet fast
two places at once
telekinetic beast ...
arch angels and demons rest
shoulder giants
wing feather
or leather
depends on
which side
of the west side's story
do you need to see yourself on ...
there are those among us
that still look to hook up with Tesla's ghost
despite the onslaught of indecency
and insolence masquerading
as a promising future
of free energy endless
zero carbon
radio communication
and file storage
zero population growth
abundant clean water
and sustainable food ...
but the humanist revolution
must start with the origin peoples
and it would seem in-congruent
to keep our entire species
on these bridges
of what the past
wrought in salt
and iron colonial
back ass-ward-ness
the infinite glory
of another side
kept just of reach
while alive
being dead
the key
to receiving
the golden ticket
civilized greed though
was the same then
as it is today
all promissory noted
baited and switched
dogmatic machinery
sacredness pieced
as journey politics
disguised philosophies
of the rising above
our petty selves
once we humans agreed upon
barter exchange rates
of equanimity
of material
and services rendered
thieves just funneled
money somewhere else
banks set up
a robber baron-clinicity
a mythology woven modernity
in storms
of graphical presentation
all to show you how
tall the pyramids
have become
hub nexus
Sumer kings
middle eastern ringed
caravan routes guarded
by a lucky grand master
a simple farmer probably
tending, herding whereabouts
of desert stored things
knowledge
that supersedes
information mostly
hidden assassins
in the dunes
at night making glass
and bread when night cools
the spoke sparse rocky earth
baked in daytime's hot dry air
there are places
rain knows about
but will rarely
shows us all
the ways to
is listening lost
but willing to find
one's self the way
of planetary re-birth
is the wide girth view
of shared plenty pantry
have us turning towards
what gives us light
in the market
at high noon
can we test a man's honesty
still with a lamp lit
when none
seem needed
to see or be seen ...
there are pockets rocket red glare sear the sworn
torn parted rams and ewes
salvation(s)
glitter speck caught
corner eyes
for a second the streets sting themselves
kettle bells and spells
the denizen sway patterns grow
everything in the sky
mimics what happens
under seas ...
to get at your womb perspectives
peer tunnel visions of you
storied forced on you looks
the how(s) you are
made to believe
in a future or knot
I chose the aluminum foil tailor
and started abdicating reality
a few whistle stops back there
I dare you to find only what you need
and burn the rest in your bonfire of vanity
my dream
was stitched
in time bends
nine tine nests
nitrogen enriched vessels
you never want to be born
by surfacing too fast
get shot past
your destination
most times
doing that
have to live
old man
of the mountains again
when a mayfly
born to die
on a hot June night
would have done fine
instead
EJR ©
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