Poem

If heavy reigns are lightly seized

When foolishness is often pleased

Where calloused hands have found and squeezed

There Sorrow goes, a plague unleashed.

If work and toil are always eased

When idle wants are swift appeased

Where honest men are mocked and teased

Then Sorrow comes, dark flood released. 

If noble walls have been besieged 

When tyrants rule with minds diseased

Where brokenness has been bequeathed 

Here Sorrow stays, and lives, and breeds. 

You'll Never Know, I'll Never Tell

                                                              If you do not know

                                                              From the very first

                                                               If you cannot see

                                                          Whence comes my thirst

                                               Then to you I'll ever wear thickening shell

                                                      You'll never know, I'll never tell. 

                                                              I'm an open book

                                                            But you cannot read

                                                               I walk my way

                                                             And pay no heed

                                               To game, or knave, or beckoning spell

                                                   You'll never know, I'll never tell. 

                                                           You cannot see me

                                                      Though I stand unadorned

                                                       They long since gave up

                                                         Worshiped or scorned

                                                  What am I truly? Harmless or fell,

                                                     You'll never know. I'll never tell. 

Untitled

In the night

In the dark

When you dream

All is stark

And the curtain parts at last

In the place

Where you are

You hear a voice

So bizarre

It's guttural cloying words

You wish for warmth

And relief

Still you dodge

Phantom teeth

And you quail in the clinging mist

You seek escape

And you flee 

But those frights

Were not me

Behold the demon, Thou.

Kill the Housefly

I killed and I slew
With every stroke the carnage grew
Broken bodies all askew
I crushed them in my might

I hunted them in my domain
Their evil limbs to crush and maim
And my own I now regain
From black and slavering beasts

With every swat and every swish
I liberate both food and dish
With every blow I grant my wish
That these flies should fly no more



So, this evening I was hunting flies, as the number in our house had grown a little ridiculous. And inspired by my cunning, I wrote this after I had severely dented the population.
And now, thanks to social media, I have made it available to buy on a t-shirt in my store on Zazzle.
http://www.zazzle.com/kill_the_housefly_carnage_shirt-235704576053436703

Untitled

Your teachers offer you nothing
Bringing empty and powerless words
Speaking much, but not the one thing
That could help these wandering herds

Woe to the blind and confused ones
And Woe to the hungry who leave
But fire and death on the chief ones
Who see, and while knowing, bereave

There is no love in a leader deceiving
There is no hope if the end is not told
There is no faith in all of this scheming
We're offered nothing to which we can hold

Now they are ready and ripe for deception
Lacking wisdom or tools to discern
Having been gutted by their own election
They'll fall away, and so they shall burn