Tribute To A Dead Poet Poem by Barry Middleton

Wars and war rumors
consume a peaceful wish,
neighbor fears neighbor,
the godless sky bleeds.

Another mortal wound,
another mother's grief,
hungry children await
their father's return.

Addiction stalks longing
with a corporate prayer
to consumptive greed.

Politicos turn their gaze
from serving the people
to claw for pride money.

The gambler lays a bet,
the robber pulls a gun,
honest wages looted.

One vague poet writes
odd notes and memories
of a lost green planet.

The dark aged wisdom
of the evil backstreet
is in the hustler's eyes.

Crass guiltless merchants
rub their fat paunches
glutted by slave profit.

On a dry burnt sandhill
a gray preacher rants
against crazed sinning,
his eyes to a dead sun.

Our priests and mentors
betray youthful dreams
with lustful perversion.

No brave and shining
world we have created,
no shelter from evil.

Moping youth lodge claims,
foolish aperies of wisdom,
arrogant with stupidity.

Putrid ashen air surrounds
a doubtful future with
pale deceptions of hope.

Still the dead whisper
in rancid cathedrals
that god's awful angel
waits in a nightmare
to redeem faint terror.

In secret coven meetings,
alphabetical ledgers due,
bony demon fingernails
tally our debt and profit.