Lost time in cold, leaden fields
Forsaken epochs, unable to yield
Shadow desires, darkly concealed
I wear my armor like a beaten shield
Stone-faced, aching, my fate is sealed
Blood on my body swiftly congeals
And you, my love, are not here
A tender touch to tell me
Everything will be okay
And this dark landscape
Is but a fleeting nightmare
6-13-22
And what if the apocalypse comes? Do we not deserve it? Have we not been traveling down this path for a very long time? I think of this often, and I believe there may even be sweetness in the flames that will consume us.
But this is beside the point. What is the point? That something is coming. Call it prophecy; call it what you will. I get the feeling everyone knows, though some are pushing it out of their mind.
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Another spoken word poetry video! This one is for my poem “Tomorrow Never Comes.” Public domain music here: Irama Gema – Ignis Fatuus of Ascetism, Resolution and Time. Enjoy!
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Hey, y’all! Here’s another spoken word poetry video for a poem I had published a while back called “Strange Planet.” The music is from the public domain: Koi-discovery – Electroscope. Enjoy!
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I tried something a little different and created a video for a poem I posted here recently, “To Dream Away.” The music is something I found in the public domain, called “Kasni Noćni Sat” by Čopor.
Here’s the video below and let me know what you think!
Yellow moon, violet sky
Over the feminine ocean
Wrap me in your arms
Soak me with your love
And never, please, never
Ever let me go
When was the last time I saw a man die? It was yesterday, in fact, right in front of my eyes. His head was blown apart, point-blank range, and I was about twenty feet away, watching the violence unfold. It was cold and gray that morning, but nothing else about what happened was unusual. This is the reality now.
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It’s a numb feeling
Something hollow
When you know there’s no hope for the country
No chance for a better tomorrow
What will we do?
I’m not quite sure
What will happen next?
Only God knows for sure
Mass death is the name of this game
Don’t let it become normal
School shootings aren’t normal
Assault rifles in 18-year-old hands, not normal
Murdered children and politicians who don’t care
None of this is normal
Outrage is the proper emotion
Anger is to be expected
Scared parents are normal
Depression and despair, also normal
Fits of crying is perfectly normal
I want to replace every gun with a flower
I want to heal the world
Of course, it’s not possible
But what if?
Every time someone is shot
I’ll plant a rose garden
Or maybe some daffodils
Every time a gun is bought
I’ll teach a child their ABC’s
Or buy them twenty books
