Noticing
the twin flags
on your car —
flag of Confederacy,
flag of Union; seeing that
you’re heading into
the same bar
I’m going to; letting
my hands brush
my pockets —
clipped-on knife,
cell phone; checking for
pepper gel snapped to
belt loop;
calculating
whether — and when —
first strike will make
more sense;
choosing to recall
that there’s no accounting
for The Dumb who fly
the flags of
betrayer and betrayed
with equal pride;
choosing to recall
that both flags
are red, white, and blue;
returning to calculating
when the first strike
will be required of me —
perhaps not today
but soon.
September 20th, 2017 at 9:15 am
Okay, Mr Brown, so you see the world for the frightening, fraudulent foolishness it really is… Well, now you’ve gained wisdom, haven’t you…
The Knowing
Blistered hands strain to grasp
the subtlety of rhymes
composed by indolence.
Self indulgence steps across
the bodies laying in its
way, the ragged inconvenience.
And everywhere, meanness finds
reward for injuries done
to innocence. Who’s to blame?
~
Amid the welter of faltering
relations and self betrayal,
where is wisdom; where’s peace?
Somewhere in the depths of
our souls lie the still
waters of ageless wisdom,
but we go searching for our
reflection among the stars,
and end up lost in the mirror.
~
All that’s possible cries out from
inside. A box, within a box,
within a box; power existential.
I sing the human being! Wizard
warrior, become savior of
reality. Embodied introspection!
Turning fear into life force, we sense
blood within the stone that
is mankind’s heart of darkness.
Savageness is tamed, like some
mystical brute thing that
stalks and kills for sheer delight.
Before entering Valhalla, reason must
lay bare its terrified breast in an
act of mindless faith, and leap from security
muttering a prayer for the dying,
on lips which tremble and
murmur of how brave we all must be.
~
Someone please, save us from
the knowing. Faust, help
us in this hour of self-revelation!
God have mercy upon our open
eyes. Forgive us the awful sin
of vanity, to think, to know, to be.
Ex-nihilo, send mercy’s bullet to
snatch the fruit of the mythic tree
of knowledge from our shaking hands.
~
In the waning light of day, knowledge
is neither good nor bad, only
fruit, to be consumed by the soul.
The arrogant and vicious are wise
in their way. One must be dark,
to fare well in such a hungry world.
Unsettling verse from, Mad Jack
September 18th, 2017 at 8:59 am
[…] via The First Strike — Dark Matter […]
September 18th, 2017 at 8:56 am
Thank you Tony.
September 18th, 2017 at 9:03 am
Of course.