Nothing is certain

Strident assurances can’t certify
that I will see your face again

It subsists on fragile hope
It depends on fickle chance

There is no guarantee
Fate is not obligated

Conflicted within
resigned without

hopeful and afraid together

Karma is also extra-judicial!

Justly do the oppressed cry out

for judgement deems their cry a warning.

Their oppressor best pay heed.

Innocent blood is a stubborn stain,

an accuser never silenced;

impossible to ignore, seeking vindication.

Innocent blood cries out,

ceaselessly demanding justice -

an urgent cry, pleading with tears.

Justice shall respond to nonstop nagging,

and present Himself suddenly

to shedders of innocent blood.

Poet-Try (attempt at humor)

No magazine, newspaper or tabloid will pay to publish this poem (below) in its Featured Author section… heck, not even in small print upside-down near the crossword or amidst classifieds or in any of the many margins. Yes, I asked.

I don’t get it… I mean, the poem rhymes and stuff, doesn’t that count for something? It’s what poems do, right? As for inspiration, the first line is the inscription on a t-shirt of mine, and wasn’t no copyright info on it, but even if there was some tiny small print, that’s like only 10% plagiarism; cut me some slack for goodness’ sake. 90% is the work of my own original brain. And the logic in the message is flawless. The poem is a fountain of knowledge.

Here you go. Rescue my ego. (You see that? …go ….ego?! I rhymed without even trying.)
Alright, now. Prepare to say wow. (You see? It’s evident…I got talent!)
Evident and talent just happen to rhyme by the way.
Screw what other tricks poets use; I’m set like a fuse.

Anyway. Enough brilliance. Here’s the poem which was foolishly and fraudulently rejected by the enemies of progress. (Any lawyers out there think I have a case? Please call me!)

******

Born to party, forced to work!
What a pity! It is whack!

Parties are fun. Work doth sucketh,
But to taxman contributeth.

Pay tax my brother. Do your bit.
Pay tax my sister, or get him to do it.

Get a day job. Pay as you earn.
“Tax makes you sob,” is what you will learn.

I’ve changed my mind: Party all you want,
Shake your behind. Don’t work if you can’t.

My friend you see, Tax is no increment.
Set yourself free. Avoid employment.

This poem is legendary. It’s writer is awesome.
He spake “Be wary: Avoid boredom.”

Connectivity

The machine wraps its wiry tentacles around the globe

until all kinds of cables crisscross the Earth's crust

Electricity, cable TV and wireless chemtrails

tarmac cables and phone cables and undersea fiber;

The grid exponentially self-replicates
its high-strung live wires charged with voltage
its coated cables encasing the planet in a net
its ideologues chanting "Power to the People!"

Satellites in the sky oversee the process
of information at highest download speeds
devices exchanging documents codes and data,
entertainment for the lowest common denominator

The machine has no soul
its grinding wheels turn incessantly
Its faceless façade fixedly indifferent
to all the lives its cables connect

Outside the Zone

Attempt no poetry
outside the zone;
rather sleep and dream
than force the tone

Should rhyme refuse
better leave it alone;
just relax and reduce
cerebral confusion

In incoherent fright
are grand dreams blown;
in dreams of the night
are tricks to be shown

So if you force poetry
you end up with verse three

And for What?

I had a dream of rare clarity,
an exceptional enlightenment,
but the lesson slipped away!

"There's only pain to suffer"
said a voice
"if you pursue her-
hurt, and heartbreak-
and for what?!"

another voice vied.
"you want only her
and none other
you only live once
go after her!"

reasoned the first,
"the dream is a nightmare
wake up"

retorted the other
"the nightmare began
when you let go the dream"

i knew what to do
but I woke up
and forgot.