Joel Genter Poems

A knife impales his chest
As he lays, bound, on a pile of wood
His blood covers the hands of his father
Flows and pools on the altar
...

'You can Die!
Go to Hell! '
He flames and spreads his fire
who's target does receive and burn
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He stood his ground and watched the flag
With a chain around his neck and a dog tag
'This is my country. It will not be harmed! '
He said that and meant it because he was armed.
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Working, working, working
A man's life wastes away
As though he is a slave
to a job and to money.
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The option is there
Temptation is strong
As big as a bear
I know it is wrong
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Ragged streets turn
To hide the indecent,
But cowards don’t know
Of the real tempest.
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