Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Chiming
.
from a tone
bravely accosting the silence
the stuttering steps
of apprehension
peal ceaselessly
in the gentle breeze
that wasn’t there
a moment ago
chiming a song
bounce by ricocheting
bounce
.
.
Wicked
.
the year was 2016
and before that
all the ones starting with 19
then hundreds more
even before those
don’t bother counting
people like to forget
pretend certain things didn’t happen
wash away the parts that don’t fit
the narrative
hidden
in the invective
couched clumsily
with infantile emotion
lipstick
pigs
a feint in intimidation
hacking out a slimy living
to this day
leaving the rest of the world
at a loss
to conceive
how the hell
the wicked
sleep
.
.
Flavors
.
my life
in flavors
is mostly plain
crunchy isn’t a flavor
but sometimes I feel like that
sour happens
more than I like to admit
vanilla
and just a little bit lemon-y
is not all that bad
but not close to accomplishing sweetness
sweet is the best, of course
chocolatey, too
almost always aligning with happy
which is totally cool
on the other hand
if cloudy describes a flavor
my life would recognize
precisely how that tastes
nutty seems appropriate
and a little salty I guess
then mellow
with a hint of some mint
occasionally carbon black
burned by flame
too many minutes too long
while on a really good day
it’s all hot-fudge malt
and a favorite song
never ending
never fading
living large
even after it’s gone
but the flavor of love
it tops them all
since it never ever runs out
and travels through space and time
all hearts, roses, & candy
blushes and winks
warmth
truth
reality
eternity
all of which
we get to season
to taste
.
.
Fatal Cosplay
.
Military madness
was killing my country
solitary sadness
comes over me
“Military Madness” by Graham Nash, from the album “Songs for Beginners” 1971
.
pretend soldiers
besmirching the reputation
of actual trained personnel
killing for sport
clueless about virtue
pawns of billionaires
warping reality
destroying law and order
ripping the life from people who care
cosplay wannabees
sick with infantile understanding
devoid of what matters most
puppets on despicable strings
flailing their emasculated control
at those who know better
who gives their order?
makes them throw smoke?
pull out their weapons
with hapless impunity
rendering despair
at their vile commander’s charge
heaping hypocrisy
on a pro-life mountain
mutilated morals
of indefensible times
what matters most
both a statement and question
oh where are the ghosts
of past, present, future
to rattle their chains
unwind the destruction
rewire the circuits
of basic humanity
reclaim some dignity
restore world order
life and liberty
freedom to be
noble communities
in love with real peace
highest ideals
protecting the weak
shoulders to the wheel
of learning how to feel
healing
not hurting
not playing along
to hide rich men’s crimes
cutting the strings
of evil task masters
make them pay
for their actions
put them on the front lines
stand up for real people
take off those damn masks
go home
sit down in the corner
now look what you’ve done
Jumbled
.
I am every mistake I’ve ever made
I am just what you make of me
our laughter is feeding energy to every single thing
what if we never heard the song that would become our favorite
would it change who we’ve become?
I can almost see far enough to understand
the lust lingering large in walls of sound
buried within the prose
if you are seeking access to my spending history
press one now
when we were swinging together
side by side in a previous life
I was the kid in somebody else’s drama
waiting for my bit part
to play out in the elegant design
saying those three old words
as if I’d always known
.
.
Relative Something 