Civil Unrest

Be the broken laurel of ponds

A hunter made blind in

The broke up shallows of busty heaven

Best to lay your head on a quivering womb and

Forget the tyrant o’er your maddening reflections

 

Here there must be pain…

Scars and the inflections of our attempted imperfections

The smell of open wounds crying in the divinity of trial 

Chapter one will not speak of Economics

The gates have been plucked and

within we see our paradigms dying

Glowering bright streetlights

We see ourselves outside of this manage and beyond the Violent coolness

Specters of scullery at work in

The hair strands of an ancient clog

We see circus crossings and offer up our lives

Watching elephant prints in effigy fire

This world is a world of the vile-eyed 

Tools made multitude in hands too sinister for murder

The last walk out is a flight 

Cast in the weeping smiles of our continuence

Kneel, if you must

Curl into the smug memory and sleep well your pride and juice

Labeled and wed to the olives of bliss

Ignoring the warmth in chasmic blooms

The wrath from wild animals beneath-

You are a wand of successful toil

Transcendence propped and filled with night

It is cold and dismissed in this jungle

But it will be well and best to dilute  

Never tasting green absinthe of failure at all

Reviews

[A. Amos]

This is a true master piece every verse is a hidden message of wisdom...just a fan bro bless you

[Priscilla Sayers]

Oh Love! How you boggle the mind. Your verse placed so elegantly within the clockwork of my over analytic mind. The volumes you blare through each precious thought as it is laid out before us is always a blessing to behold.

[Little Whisper]

The Trinity agrees..... Amen.

[Perdition]

So you've been reading Sophocles again have you?? Thanks..I think Oedipus was way too hard on himself also....after all he didn't know. Darn trinities : )