I've met many who worked for her agency, many, I suppose, yet to be seen.
Soldiers for her, half minded, now are many, lost in service,
against battlefields of patterning; remnants of enlistments and drafts;
against lost souls left wandering, left blind in broken promises, a past war.
The unseen wars to protect and of service, sometimes even profit,
to protect those unable to protect those unable, sometimes...
Of a country my father served alone honorably and my mother, for her children
as future, until death, the best she could, her life.
To battle the unseen, is to fight for children, a future ' given ' of light in response.
A lightness of darkness bends the unseen away. The promise.
I've known one forced to flee in response to unseen whispers in battle,
the other I was told of ' assisted suicide.' Both served her well...
Within a ' Castle of mind ' and cigar at hand, a blind of white light.
A white man who's soul was black, left her company for good.
I can't help but wonder of papers I signed, years past, only to help
others in time, to see...
The fool in her eyes, as clown, only mark maker, only painter and then sculptor,
and yet I still break all ' codes,' to help her children, against all odds, private
and otherwise, against misguided David's and unseen soldiers of the darkness,
the night. This is who I am and I will never seek her company in flight,
I found another way to battle the unseen darkness.
CRIMINALS INSIST on AMNESTY and there is none, unless forgiven by the ones...
and a system that is not human, the global military complex,
as if a spider's web, who have forgotten...children, that Enemies know their side,
the enemy within.
Sometimes, I wonder if extinction is the only true justice for our species
in observation of deeds done.
THE TEST I FAILED ON FRANKLIN
We live in singular, a result of a broken marriage
Hardly are known the faces, only traps of memories;
unforgiven
Beyond reach are dreams of a path
shared individually
Nightmares of a younger brother's pleading
caught between life and death, four years ago,
of those who rather beat down breath
to break backs to gain purpose
Impostors of children's dreams taken for glamor
Seen are you, on the place, on the circled cross,
the place of our mother's death
Outside the window, weeds to pull,
from the other side as children, time stopped in lesson,
how to shake the world and listen
A circled cross, my brother Paul, and the sun,
where our mother died...years later
To be used again...for glamor, against my
and our will. Is it for profit only?
RAMONA'S PLAYGROUND
The sun sets only to glide
as if upon a swing to climb
suddenly timed, all seen in the jump,
the sun
To reach flight, quiet, then ground
sand felt all around, impact
a journeys end, the ground, sand
Memories of sun felt, in yellow
are now bright in my eye
Suns of many minds meld, called time
As if to sing upon a gleam
In a unison, a partnership in marriage
The unbroken song of time, except one
The sun star sees all bare
for eternities remnant, but a fragment
a child heads back to the swing
within memories...the sun. For the jump.
No comments:
Post a Comment