Michael Walkerjohn

Gold Star - 17,765 Points (January 01 / Earth?)

Roll Call - Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Silence, shears these flushed and fecund thoughts,
where life's divide descends, through time's lowest vault;
voiced concerns, hold no mere mortals tongue,
words hang below, the gasp from mind's stark foucault;
often, one's jest reverts to hatred's moods,
lead hearts to doom, whet simplistic need to know;
resonates ideals, from which worth flows,
follows those crowing crowds; turns one's friends to foes.

Against world's worst, those least strive to best,
closely vow, in thoughtful words held close and yet;
walls built through time; dark, drank, morbid shields,
hold further fear, against one's future begat;
separating still, life's ‘dreams' from facts,
your stand, with US or ‘them'; is one's money stacked;
reality, it's cruel brood mare shrieks,
tongue in cheek so swells; guts retch, neo-conned smack.

Stimulating upon mind's true mode,
survival's cliché', no divine hand to hold;
fantasy prayed; theocracy played,
hate filling demonic faggotry embold;
brutalizing honest citizens,
subversive ‘the' policy, all truth remold;
humanity struggles mightily,
supposition posited, retool life's goals?

Burying consensus, substance sold,
profiteerings magnify, neo-con gold;
humility, that's this proffering,
ignominious suffering pain forebodes;
regenerating unity's sewn,
blathering slags, the ‘nut wing' blights pet nouveau;
dignity, incites those wicked minds,
ass toads played, by hate's proclivity... reload!

Exposing explicit expressives,
relumes, the inner light in each minds long dark;
irreality screams implicit,
reality's phoenix, proves the ‘raptures' harks;
expressing you're pissed at freedom's diss,
humbling thoughts, to those without true ‘human' spark;
rationality please, be conscious!
torches flares insist, be thoughtful in remarks.

Suppressing this urge, to plurge life's ills,
results in one thousand etched on loaded rounds;
nationality, means one's ‘nation',
implied is, as citizen you rise or drown;
rejecting, the ‘centrist' worldwide view,
suggests your ‘leanings' to left or right are soiled;
hypocrisy, ends this f.u.b.a.r. state,
callings ‘roll'; choice demonic; or heaven's souls.

Topic(s) of this poem: choice


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 19, 2014



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