The Waiting Room

This waiting room

so lonely at times

so quiet

it's as if no-one else is here

they sit across from me

yet I feel totally alone

all the time wondering

what awaits me on the other side of that door

I have heard others claim to know

but to me the afterlife remains a mystery

Stuck in a Box

Stuck in the box

a steel trap of a mind

when rusted shut

a man falls behind

Our language is wicked

when with one single word

so many meanings can vary

with the way they are heard

For the mind that is closed

understanding's a chore

but once it is open

it can perceive so much more

The Blood of a Turnip

Thirsting for blood

expecting a flood

when the turnip goes dry

their greed does not die

no the blood from a turnip

is never enough

it must be ground to a pulp

it's a treatment quite rough

we're put through the mill

which is never a thrill

with too little pay

so they might have their way

but somehow we survive

although barely alive

as they leave us a crumb

no they're greed is not dumb

the field has been plowed

they've planted the seed

from our pockets they'll harvest

the next crop of their greed

We Have Become Rome

what does it matter

whether they come for your money

or they come for your blood

the fact that they come

speaks of a dark heart

they are the takers

they've no wish to share with us

only leaving enough seed behind

to ensure another harvest

our money and blood

the sweat of our brow

they depend on it

they demand our loyalty to their cash cow

while seeing us as fodder for their cannons

they thirst ever for more

never satisfied with the hoard

they've already amassed

those who stand in their way

they're expendable

the rich get richer by the day

our cost to live

continually endangered

oh how the plutocrat loves to hold his third world ransom

that is what we are becoming

we are their stepping stones

and once we are used to cross a river

bringing the takers to greener pastures

we are no longer needed

there will always be more stones

that they can throw into the waters

we are no more than bridge material to their next fortune

once crossed to be thrown away

they'll not need our bridge a second time

they never look back and care not

for the rubble they leave behind

Keeping Score

I had no dog in the hunt

but I kept score anyway

at least I though I was

I believed that the numbers of the fallen

ours and theirs

was the score of war

the body count kept increasing

more soldiers were sent

when that war died down

another began

once again the thoughts of

'who cares, I don't have to go'

came back

once again I began counting bodies

the cycle kept repeating itself

I began to notice

so many former soldiers

disabled

homeless

more dying of suicide

than in the wars they fought

while the military industrial community

continued to feed their coffers

by the blood of the fallen

What was the score again?

I seem to have lost count.

Don't Ignore the Alarm

You must wake to their lies

unto the truth

and it must be done

during the days of youth

for those who wait

until days of old

will find that their heart

has been grown as a mold

kept in the dark

and living in shadows

always afraid

to look out their windows

denying the violence

accepting the wars

and avoiding the truth

they've become cold hearted whores

We are the Price

Their minds are closed

hearts grown cold

their killing continues

as they grow old

Fueled by their hate

what I find as odd

is that these terrorists kill

in the name of their god

Extremism sucks

whether religion or bucks

as at the end of the day

it's the common people who pay

The Seeds Of Conflict

The narrowness of understanding

it exists in all of us

a mind shut tight as if it were a rusty trap

with no desire for oil

denial that there is more to life

than their view

statements made carry consequence

many words

many meanings

often understood to fit an individual

then believed by another differently

each to fit their needs

neither is totally right

nor are they wrong

they are just different

how it can take so little of a difference to become

the seeds of conflict

Thou Too Shall Perish

Blinded by their hatred of others

taught them by those with an equally vile past

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

Is this how the extremists share the love of their god

would not a god desire converts to choose him

yet those who would proselytize

offer fear and punishment as their incentive

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

You think I speak of Islam

no, it is all of the Abrahamic peoples

you say, no not us

but it continues within all three branches

today we see the focus on Islam

while we ignore the Zionist movement

we complain, what has this to do with Christianity

while hiding our eyes from Bangui

in the Central African Republic it is Christians killing Muslims

because they are Muslims

There is no need to travel to see the evidence of this hate

the bombings of abortion clinics

the murder of doctors who perform abortions

proves the hate is right here at home

and there are those who celebrate the deaths

of people who do not believe exactly as they do

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

We hear the voices of the extremists

calling for the deaths of the non believers

so many seek that eye for an eye

choosing to remain blind in their hate

Why is it that even within each leg

those known as Sunni cannot get along with the Shiite

Protestants and Catholics war with each other

the Semites of Israel and Palestine continue to battle

when their roots are all found

in the same servant of their god

Ideology sucks when it drives people to kill each other

all their books condemn killing

while at the same time justify killing the non believer

in the name of their god

There is no glory in this

How their god must weep

how he must wish them to rid themselves of their books

and live in peace with each other

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

Evil, In the Eye of the Beholder

justifying the war

because we're the good guy

and putting down evil

is our reason why

is ignoring the fact

that our enemy

believes they're the good guy

fighting the evil they see

The Seven Seas

The seven seas

the human race

their waters are one

we share the same life giving blood

they have different names

we come in many colors

they are separated by continents

we are separated by religion

these differences

do nothing to change that fact

that they remain one water

and we are one human race

there are those who have never really grown up

they were no more than little green plastic soldiers

outfitted with rifles and ammo belt

as a child they were set up as to be in battle

the foe was unknown

it was just how we played

what fun it was to pretend army

the cold war was waging

the threat of missiles

Russian missiles so close to our own shores

being launched from Cuba brought fear

we were still young and didn't really understand the danger

we continued to play army

marching with sticks we pretended were rifles

ready to take cover in the shelters we made in the vacant field

we were still having our fun

playing army

now grown up

many of my generation sit in congress

they still have their toy soldiers

they're no longer green

the weapons no longer resemble the rifles of our youth

and the toys they play with

are no longer plastic

they continue to put them to battle in other lands

they are still having fun

playing army

A Blessing of Abstract

Abstract poetry

requires a man to think

lazy minds grow strong

My Own Answers

when perfectly clear

I've no reason to think

a mindlessness that I fear

stagnation does stink

I've no reason to think

give me my abstract

stagnation does stink

give me my mind back

give me my abstract

it serves me quite well

give me my mind back

set me free from this hell

it serves me quite well

to answer questions I find

set me free from this hell

and open my mind

the ability to think

this mindlessness that I fear

can be too often the case

when things are perfectly clear

I want my own answers

that way they'll be mine

so don't worry yourself

I'll be perfectly fine

Closure

The promise of closure

there ain't no such thing

even when justice is served

it don't lessen the sting

when your child has been murdered

it isn't something

you ever get over

or quench the burning

The promise of closure

it's all one big lie

the loss is forever

you still question why

memories return

you again start to cry

shedding tears from within

of a never ending supply