This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO
Showing posts with label apathy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apathy. Show all posts

THE WIND



(A Poetic Justice Photomontage)



Would I hold my hand thus if I were such a murderous beast?
Asked the wolf…
Would I be thought a monster like you if I howled in horror?
Asked the sheep…
I howl for pleasure, little sheep! I consume to nourish my sorrow!
Scolded the wolf…
I do not mean to offend your howling or persuade your hunger, sir.
Prayed the sheep….
See my opposing thumb and how it can bring me such pleasure?
Inquired the wolf…
See my shivering hooves and how they frustrate me significantly?
Echoed the sheep…

The wind now wails its bitter speech as the wolf skulks nearer.

Come! Let us sit next to one another and we shall drink a toast.
Said the wolf…
I shouldn’t. It’s not right to do so while so many continue to perish.
Replied the sheep…
Thou art afraid of me, dam? Me? A creature with such manners?
Crooned the wolf…
No. I- I- I just don’t think it appropriate to toast on this- of all days.
Answered the sheep…
But this is a day of triumph! Today’s the best day to drink to victory!
Howled the wolf…
There you go again with the howling? I told you my lambs are sleeping.
Whispered the sheep…

The wind abruptly strengthens with the crow of murderous night.

Yes. Please forgive me, sheep…. …Your lambkins are precious to you?
Posed the wolf…
All babies are precious, wolf. Are yours not precious to you?
Raised the sheep…
Of course they’re precious! I would, without a doubt, kill for them!
Charged the wolf…
Of that I’m sure. But haven’t I asked you to keep your voice down?
Sighed the sheep…
Yes. But aren’t you sufficiently fearful of offending me, little ewe?
Urged the wolf…
I have not offended you, wolf. It is you that will not do as I’ve asked.
Rejoined the sheep…

The wolf now howls with a beast’s bloody bravado!

I do not believe this- Before me is a sheep that’s utterly lacking in fear?
Marveled the wolf…
I’ve fear enough. It is your opposing thumbs that are rigid with terror.
Said the sheep.

The wind stops its screeching and the sheep suckles her babies.



© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman


Rolling along "O"...

Objectivist v. Constructivist v. Theist - Odd Neighbor - Of course, I Could Be Wrong - One Million Blogs for Peace - One Million Peace Signs - Only In America - Open Left - Orwell's Grave - Out Of Iraq Bloggers Caucus - Overcoming Bias



DREARY BROOCH





Pin a heart on us, the living;
We, the unmoving.
The deceased have more breath
Than our breathing.

Emblems of our emptiness
And weakness
Puncturing hunger’s sleeve with
Dreary brooch.

Cackling our minute’s final gasp
With warring,
Weak idols pinned to proud chests,
Unfilled, all.

Pin sweet thoughts upon the dull,
Not pennants
Of gluttony, empire, warfare
And oil.

Whilst our children die for those
Already dead
Let us begin anew with this; the worlds
Flagless living.


© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman



THIS AMERICAN ANTHEM

EXPAND THE POST +/-

Al Gore to Diane Sawyer: "Listen to your questions. You know, the horserace, the cosmetic parts of this — and, look, that’s all understandable and natural. But while we’re focused on, you know, Britney and K-Fed and Anna Nicole Smith and all this stuff, meanwhile, very quietly, our country has been making some very serious mistakes that could be avoided if we, the people, including the news media, are involved in a full and vigorous discussion of what our choices are."

Memorize these words!
Soak them into your soul.
Paint them upon the canvas of consciousness,
For they are the ideal example of truth.
They illuminate what should be our most fundamental flame of citizenry.
Those that heard, or read this, and rolled their eyes
Or laughed with derision, are the problem.
They're sold on the god awful dream of the neocon.

Let these words be emblazoned upon the steps of state houses
And the required oath in schools.
Let it be placed on every pew in the nation.
Let it be sung at baseball games
In place of the national anthem!
This should be the mantra of we the people;


But while were focused on
You know,
Britney,
And K-Fed
And Anna Nicole Smith
And all this stuff,
Meanwhile,
Very quietly,
Our country
Has been making some
Very serious mistakes
That could be avoided
If we, the people,
Including the news media,
Are involved in a full
And vigorous discussion
Of what our choices are.





© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman


Thanks to C&L for the video.


Previous Post - LEAVE

"MOVE ALONG"

Is It For Freedom? Sara Thomsen (3:45)

(After watching this video I was inspired to write my own song.)

WHO PAYS THE PRICE

As you and I sit idly by
And watch America
Eating from the trough,

As you and I sit idly by
And watch America
Drinking her indifference,

As you and I sit idly by
And watch America,
A pill of greed upon her tongue,
While children starve outside our homes
And others drown inside their own
While people of the world are bombed,

Will we close our eyes
And swallow the pill
When we're told "we don't belong"?

Who then pays the cost
Who pays the cost
For America’s freedom land?
Who then pays the cost
Of our eating from the trough
While all the bombs
Are falling from our hands?

Who pays the cost for apathy?
Who pays the heavy price?
Who pays when we close our eyes
And we're told to "just make nice"?

Who pays the cost for that?
Who pays the price
When our planes have bombed their last?
Who pays the heavy cost
When we buy a tank of gas?
Who pays a price as we devour
While so much more is lost?

As you and I sit idly by
And watch America
Eating from the trough,
While children starve outside our homes
And others drown inside their own,
While people of the world are bombed
Will we close our eyes and swallow the pill
When we’re told to "move along"?

Will we close our eyes and swallow the pill
When we’re told to "move along"?

Will we close our eyes and swallow the pill
When we’re told to "move along"?


© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman


Thanks to Elowehi25 for the video

Previous Post - RAWA



PUFF OF EXHAUST

READ THE POEM +/-
(Pollution by Ben Heine)

Dear George,
Communities are hotbeds of social interaction in which individuals of varying demographics occupy the same space and through a process of squabbling and contentiousness manage to form themselves into a political unit that, in the end, acts as an effective counterweight to the power of the State. (
Read the complete letter.)




A puff of exhaust smoke oozes upward
But our flickering takes no notice
We’re busy watching the lines sway;
The ghosts of motion come to stay.

Can you not hear the death knell?
It rumbles, clanging inside our gut,
Quaking not our thickset heart,
But eliciting tears of emptiness.

A sound bite of love curls up like sex-wet lips
And evaporates before it’s perceived.

Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.

(Sing along, kids!)

Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic
Spacious skies! Amber waves!
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Purple mountains! Fruited plains!
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Liberation from sea to shining sea!

A puff of exhaust smoke oozes upward
But our flickering takes no notice
We’re busy watching the lines sway;
The ghosts of motion come to stay.

The stench wafts…




Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman


Inspired by Belacqua Jones

The PNAC Death Knell

BOILING NIGHT

READ THE POEM +/-



Above the casement he sits, the moon,
Sweltering in the boiling night.
Wafting, his breath slogs through the houses,
A music so sad, so awkward,
That even the wolves shrink back in silence.

A little girl stands naked in the street
As a dog slowly lifts its rabid eyes
And two cats screech and hiss in the alley,
Three men stumble to the broken curb
And the moon shrieks overhead.

The people come out on the street and begin talking.
“Why’s the moon so low with screeching music?”
“Why’s the moon making a noise at all?”
“The world’s terror causes him pain.”
“It’s a sign of global warming.”

The people, now listless, return to their homes
And the three men stumble away,
The cats run screaming down a barren street,
And the dog stares upon the naked girl
Who motions for it to come.



Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

THE GOLDEN RAIL OF DREAM

READ THE POEM +/-



A pixie gently alights upon the golden rail of dream
To plead for the world’s peace,
For leaders, k
ings and queens,
Presidents and ministers to hear.
“Heed well these words.
Peace, in this world, is yours if you want it.
Do not forsake your golden sway
Or forego the bright gift of their trust.”

Did the king answer?
The queen nod?
The president reply?
The minister bow?
What actions did speak for them?

With the plea now awash inside
The pixie flys away,
A shine of hope upon its wings.
The words echo for many days,
“...Peace, in this world, is yours if you want it.
Do not forsake your golden sway
Or forego the bright gift of their trust.”

When the words seek leaders eager to hear a prayer,
Does the king answer,
The queen nod,
The president reply,
The minister bow,
What actions speak for them?

Bush denies Iraq terror worsening, Communists targeted,
Taliban bomb attacks, Gaza a prison, Cluster bombs,
US extends deployment
, 'Deaths' in protests, N. Korea Nixes Talks,
'They were celebrating beating us, behaving like criminals
'

When tomorrow comes
Will the king answer,
The queen nod,
The president reply,
The minister bow,
What actions will speak for them?

(Ben Heine - Cartoons)


Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

NO POETRY

READ THE POEM +/-



The white hot lie beckons of rationale
Yet veils its heat so children might yowl
In everlasting conflict with reality.
Boom!
Counterfeit words tumble through teeth
Eye to eye in emblazoned speech
To a sycophant prophetic acclaim.
Boom!

Thundering plainly, blindly to genuflect
At the blood-spattered feet of death
And propel air-sucked sin upon them.
Boom!
No poetry in the lopped limbs of despair
And no verse reckons their woeful prayer
But words oft shout down their plight.
Boom!
No prose in the whistling bomb’s release,
No hope in a child’s explosion of grief
Save for strapping `round vengeance.
Boom!
Turn, heavy and blistering irons! Retreat!
Be done with your contemptuous deceit!
There is no poetry in it,

None...




Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

DEW

Our empathy now sits
like the dew on a rose.
Slumped of a coursing rage
and trembling in grief
we pawn our conscience for coal.

The spirit's executioner
came `round in our gloom.
Before eternal slumber
we need wet our lips
upon the dawn...



Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman


The Peace Train


TUBE-FED


Pay attention if you can…
They bring the wits `round to craving futile noise;
Clutter and drivel and trivia and claptrap!
A tube-fed nation, inhaling the steady numbness of the cut and flash;
The bombardment of a saber-toothed reflection; Barbie doll drivel and spit!
The world’s come a calling and you’ve not noticed it!
Pay attention if you can…
The burning world’s come to stay
and you’ve not a clean thing to wear
And the house is in disarray!
A tyrant’s knocking on your pipes listening to your incessant tirade
About American Idol and Brittany Spears!
Your personal data’s being scanned, copied, and put up for trade
While you lounge `round in your God awful tube-fed coma!
Pay attention if you can…
Electro-gadgetry’s stolen your memory,
While the blazing world’s been tapping at your door,
and a tyrant’s been rummaging `round your bedroom!
There are men at work in your yard digging a memory hole
And they’ll lower you down; bury you `neath the solemn ground,
But you won’t notice...


Copyright © 2006 mrp
An inspired rant thanks to
Open Letters to George W. Bush!

THOU SEDATION


Children,
Kneel down before thou God of sleep
Clasp thy hands in rabid prayer
It is the time of your sedation;
Numbing of the immense pain,
Anesthetizing thou daunted spirit,
The shock and awing of living’s death,
The riveting slope of derision in your eyes,
The breach of thou spirit of all things beautiful.
The horror of this; our warring days, our wedding
To the age of capricious carnage,
Is thou need for our coveting.

Surely you,
Of all God’s creatures, understand,
Surely you
See the sweet hope in this; our deadening.

Come, children! Kneel and accept our pain!
Recognize our sting! Murder our very throbbing!
Risperidone and Olanzapine!Risperidone and Olanzapine!
Risperidone and Olanzapine!
Risperidone and Olanzapine!

Be your mantra as high priest of our employ!
Kneel now upon thou black box of sovereignty
Clasping thy hands in fanatical prayer;
Supplicating of our never ending habit,
A numbing of our pain upon thy suffering soul!

Rise now! Go!
Enter the warring world as spectator and proprietor!
Enter her and march forward with your script
Of the rising hegemony and new Rome!
Mount up! Go!
Preach thy deadened words of nationalism
Abroad and at home,
The US is great,
The US I love,
Now I thank it for our drug
Amen.


Copyright © 2006 mrp

Inspired by fuzzy and blue


Salon Feature- Picture above found there + a good article
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