From Paul Sonne’s Twitter: Next to the crash site, the most beautiful field of sunflowers swaying in the summer wind. #MH17
And there they rest
In a field of sunflowers
Swaying in the summer breeze
Families frozen, locked in place
A blight on discovery
Those returned from prayer
From one of 5 times a day
Lain in a field
Beneath the sunflower’s sway
Fun with dactyls.
Pictures of people all plastic on credit
Part from the parcel we found on our debit
Find rows of McMansions grey all their houses
Dreary long driveways with Stepford-style spouses
Greeting each noble disciple espousing
Capital pleases his Lord of arousing
Justice is bleeding the eye of the holder
Meek be the poorer the richer grow bolder
Once an Okie…
Though the winds are still a blowin’
and the rich barre their doors
We folks just keep a runnin’ out
of tears in droves n’ scores
N’ the beggars are all beggared
there’s no food in them stores
And folks keep on a sayin’
they ain’t no dust bowl anymore
Now them clouds of gray still ramble
n’ the earth ‘s awful scorched
All our babies still a cryin’
Dry pangs and mouths all parched
So I asked my good man, Colburn
whatn’ this world’ would be worse
But he kept on a sayin’
they ain’t no dust bowl anymore
See the sun ‘s almighty higher
n’ the heat’ll stop ya cold
They ain’t no breeze a blowin’
to ease the sick, young, poor n’ old
My mouth tastes red dirt dust clouds
n’ I feel I’m getting bold
But my neighbour is swearin’
they ain’t no dust bowl anymore
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Ruled by the specter of Beelzebub’s ghost
They forsook their children, accusing them host
To all manner of demons – wanton and lust
Casting out legion, this abuse somehow just
Red breasts bare; farewell to winter
And roofs drip drops in time
The air sings songs of adulation
Exubed with nature’s rhyme
The sun rise rays raise doting amours
To plant in flow’ring beds
So spring may fling new vibrant colors
And come when summer’s wed
And rain, dear rain, come soothe our fervor
Do quench the kindle’s will
What burns in spring’s abyssal belly
May protrude and spill
So revel long in spring-time fete
As summer soon be here
Once Erotes be a belly sate
Do draw your lover near
Feathers fill the breeze
Whist Spring comes to the valley;
Tengu gather snow
Another throwback poem. I hope you enjoy.
He’s beautiful, man – I think he’s a man
Or so he was when last we met
A pen-deviled mummer; a wonderful traveler
Even the years of then
As he grew older, each year older
Great wires embraced his neck
Then slipped into his veins; unknown to the Brain,
The body infected
So dim, the eyes; fogged, stained windows
Face down in moors and slough
Wire-sprout snakes emanate – snape
From his skull bones
When he spake, harsh discordant sounds
Abraded the ears
Until connected with others infected
With veins of wires
Beautiful man – once beautiful man
When once of Dandelion
Now skin of grey and dark bumped wrists
Serve as great Orion
Fair game – all; ’twas even of then
Ripe for this disease
Once blood-filled veins now flow silicone alone
This man is extinct
This fixed itself over the last two days, so yay! I blame the gremlins at wordpress for the issues. And thank you to everybody who commented and helped me troubleshoot. It is greatly appreciated.
m(_ _)m
AB
Tonight I dine on Anodynes
To dull my buzzing brain
That hounds a thought so thick and sharp
My heart dare not explain
‘Twas her desires, more oft than not
Pumped panes to broken glass
Who cut with blood up from the gut
An Angel’s trumpet blast
And through the even I forgot
The sharp conundrum’s bane
Tones designed from Luna’s eye
Formed a temporary wraith
Who plagued a sort, an oddly sort
Resting upon my brow
Whispering words of soft retort
To each redemptive vow
That the heart shall no longer keep
Her business with the blood
But pump instead the Angel’s breath
The leaves of Datura
So here I wither – thought all lost
A whim unto the wind
The night I dined on Anodynes
My buzzing brain be damned
Farewell, dear Ingle
To-night, you leave a cold hearth
And a bed of ash
Without kindle for the flame
I again will find winter
Mild Musings from a Mediocre Man 