Poetry: Pandemonium


in the right life’s lost strife

marked by turn-left stop signs in late night

fighting for tranquility disguised as harrowing defeats

we meet the nice guys who finished last time’s discord with knife and fork

working toward paved streets of faux gold and silver concord

bridged with pen swords swearing in sign language

oaths to march on, war on, come on

be smart in the wrong life’s


in the sharp mind now blind

muddled with bloodless bone dust refined

in ten-smoke stack machine shops belting out air sin

we decry old fools who choked themselves on delusion and sweet greed

seeded in infant hearts wrapped in timeless tin foil lies

heated to hell perfection in cast iron ovens

fueled by helpless, hapless, help us

be loved in the dull mind’s


in the strong heart’s slow death

bleeding out cold secrets supposedly long kept

locked up in a dragon’s lair guarded by weathered dreams

we smite the prideful who gorge themselves on other peoples’ means

constructed by soft pillow whispers in forbidden nights

warmed with passion weeds invading arteries

pumped by love then, love now, love in

the weak heart’s quick life


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