KAKASHI (scarecrow)

What have you done to this time of ours?
What mix of stinking wretchedness have you left us?
What in the bedraggled bottom of hell were you thinking?

You, with your godforsaken pride and lifeless eyes
With soiled thoughts planted like a rock garden,
The weight of the next idea holding down the last.
You don't understand your deplorable sins upon humanity,
You with your excuses pinned under stones of hatred.
Goddamn you. It is too late for your trite regrets,
Our hopes scrape the granite of immovable statues
Like moments in a famished dream of peace without end.

We call to thee to look back at your wanton wreckage,
To acknowledge this; our complicit suffering,
To grieve with us, our countries bereavement.
The martyrs of your making are built with straw,
Like the unholy kakashi, arms spread like Jesus,
Prepared for nothing but a murder of crow.

Death is the bitter fowl scraping at your sockets,
The harbinger tearing through your thankless nights
Like deadly shrapnel scurrying across your lawn
To mow you down. What should we do with such a gift?
The heroes tombs are all prepared, waiting for them to fall
And you sit there with a smugness reserved for kings,
Kings, whose empire’s have come and gone, who ride
Defiantly upon a beast carved from the same stone.


© 2008 mrp/tpm

Watch the Movie - Kakashi


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CRASHING THE SURFACE

(A Poetic Justice Photomontage)

Sitting here in the dark I’ve nothing but my thoughts
drifting merrily just outside of my reach;
-A log cabin in the middle of nowhere-
-A greenwater pond-
-A full moon-
I am at once reminded of a place of memory…perhaps it is home.
I scan the surface of the water and see the reflection of the moon.
Suddenly an army of great golden lions bursts through the green
with mighty kings riding upon their backs.

A moment ago I was staring into the water that kissed the moon
and now I’m witnessing this glorious spectacle of mighty beasts
crashing through the surface, their riders golden crowns glimmering upon
their foreheads, black hair lifting up off their shoulders as they
lean back and roar triumphant!

Now, as suddenly as they came forth, they are gone and I’m looking
into the still water reflecting a green and glorious moon.

In need of sleep, I turn and make my way toward the cabin.
I will soon look back at the water
hoping to again glimpse the lions
and hear the victorious roar of a multitude of kings.

© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman