Black holes

Over the ever expanding universe

being sucked into the black hole

that lies in its centre, I reflect,

and then sink into a

place behind my mind

where nothing is seen,

and all is hidden

from the hoardes of onlookers

and leeches waiting to steal

my naked thoughts,

suck me into their own black hole.

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Monsters in our midst

The quiet twisting of already

screwed and spewed words,

uttered from the gaping wounds

of their sorry faces,

mouths as bleeding caverns,

pus filled lies uttered in a

disingenuous cacophony,

where no one is safe from

the tirade of empty locution,

a terrible warped view

crammed into the selfish egos

of monsters in out midst.

 

Book of faces

The book of faces tells me

my story is totally empty.

Is it the same for the faces of people

I see silently walking on heavy feet?

How shallow are these souls

never coming up for air

from the inward world

of their hand-held mirror?

Revolving their view to face outward

only to catch a moment,

but never to see a lifetime.

A fallen flower

I stop by to pick a flower

from the rolling meadow,

to hold it in my hand,

and feel its warmth,

its softness,

my clumsy fingers

bruising its gentle skin,

its hue damaged

by my human hand,

its life force gone

plucked from its grassy home

“You should have let me be”

but its words fall on deaf ears,

time and time again.

 

From a sedentary position

From a sedentary position

you vent your anger

order! order!

 

From a sedentary position

you bare your bile

order! order!

 

From a sedentary position

you defile democracy

order! order!

 

From a sedentary position

your hubris takes a fall

order! order!

 

From a sedentary position

you will achieve nothing

order! order!