My window boxes are chattering in the haze,
its earth rained out, vines hanging long on the
streets of Babylon, the evening is cool and the days
are shorter now.

I'm convinced I'm surrounded by idiots
and, they're totally driving me mad!

I thought briefly about e-mailing friends
but, some idiot took the lap-top, I had!

If idiots were trees, I'd tell you what;
this, high desert'd be a forest, for sure;

I'm still deciphering if there are any that're normal
because, it's getting way too much for me to endure!

Sometimes, when in an intensely deep conversation
they'll appear, as though they knew what you'd said;

Blatantly raised by the inept
then, shuffled off to school;

being taught to love thy neighbor
and understand the "golden rule".

Their pencils become weapons
but, it's all cookies, and lemonade;

remember to keep your nose, "clean"
study hard...and make the "grade"!

Always listen to the teacher
because the teacher's who's in charge;

and, when the final bell does ring
they see, a "latch-key world"...so large.

Hidden by false civility
teeth veiled by lips of greed
claws kept sheathed
during the stalk for
profit

The twinkle in those laughing eyes
the same as any predator's
when sizing up its quarry

Those who think that they're his friend
due to false mask of good will
are merely meat in waiting
ear-tagged future meals for him
when profit's hunger makes him drool
take care not to be his fool

You should never believe everything people say
About people, but
Should take  seriously everything people tell you
About a person, because
If you don't 
it may and often does come back to bite you in the heart

NO LONGER OF THE CLAN

Smoothly
I glide to a melody in minor key
and sing my melancholy
in lyrics that belong to me alone

Mercilessly
I strike like molten steel
embers flowing deep into the heart
of humankind

Ruthlessly
I take the soul to a knowing
not pleasing to see
not easy to endure

Silently
I now wander aimlessly
no longer of the Clan
wondering if the words I speak
were ever worth the telling

If I was lightning I'd burn out Sol,
And burn both retina of you all...

...To make a planet into a star;
Churning primeval consciousness
From the depths, to way out far.
Ascend, mere embers, to furnace.
Wrenching ancient fractal plains;
Fingertips blister and scar,
And heal to pain.

A fire, pure, without bias;
Like natures ‘customed trials,
Arching light made dark suffer,
Out from Asgards mountain halls.

My father’s words re-echo
From the grave where he lay
I look for a snail in the day
Mates made good theirs at night

Separation is the knife that cuts
Loneliness trails me in the crowd
With you in thought all day long
Your cold presence chills my bone

Numbness mocked by distance
Attempted to erase my existence
From love to hate, battle declared
I can’t force you into your dislikes

For Paradise is made of brutal stuff.
But fools should strive the hopeless to attain
while Hell shall offer good men quite enough.

One’s honor is a cold, contentious bluff.
Thence, why inquire of Valhalla’s pain,
for Paradise is made of brutal stuff.

No one of us, the frail or ersatz tough
can live a life of truth to Heaven gain
while Hell shall offer good men quite enough.

A man of high regard avows with fluff,
his lies contrived to purify God’s stain,
for Paradise is made of brutal stuff.

The sky leaves it's
tattered edges
along mountain tops

Mountain tops loom over
towering trees

Towering trees cast shadows
upon the broken land

The broken land cries out
to the night skies

The night skies cloak the earth
in a burial shroud

A burial shroud for the earth
that has died