Healing Is Still

When the streets bleed
With vibrating violence
We know that only scares the guilty
Hanging like
The victims they laid
Aside in their greed;
Healing shall still be far away.

When grass grows
Over crumbled ruins
Abandoned and exposed,
Rebels of a forgotten war
Who plundered all its worth
Relaxing in their misdeeds
Shall fever in the night
And visions reminding them
Healing shall still be far away.

When flags tear at their seams
Weakened in the wind
Salt licking at the sides
Of metal catastrophes
Blowing weeds that take control
Shall struggle upon the ground
Understanding their due;
Healing shall still be far away.

When the last engine
Seizes from strain
Deep in jungle rain, overgrown
And wildcats become predator
Most feared and most bestowed
Vines and trees, all wide and tall
Laying over all regrown
Healing shall still be far away

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The New Normal (day 3143)

This is the new normal
No handshake, no smile.
This is the new normal
Lineups with seperation
And stickers on the ground
Telling me which way to walk
Where to stand.
This is the new normal
Where by law
We are no longer able
To gather in groups
More than fingers on my hand.
This is the new normal
Where social distancing
And isolation
Are words of our common vocabulary.
This is the new normal
Where walking down the street
Closer than two meters
To a passing stranger
We get anxiety
That this stranger just might
Transmit to us
An unseen death card.
This is the new normal
Where government declares
A business can no longer stay open.
This is the new normal
Where humans no longer have
Medicine men and women
Available to help
Because their knowledge
Relies on the antidote.
This is the new normal
Where I pay a bank monthly
To hold onto my money
I have saved from spending
And told that method is safer
Than guarding it with my own life,
And that money
Is better in digital plastic
Infused and inflated
By central banks at will.
This is the new normal
Where the government
Of my home country
Feels the safety and security
Of its citizens
Comes after the solvency
Of its biggest industries.
This is the new normal
And we must resist.

Dreamer (day 3064)

I am a late night dreamer.
I walk the streets
With parallel universes
On repeat amidst my thoughts,
So that each turn I make
Runs parallel to my intentions
On a highway of bright lights
Though sun has long been down.
Yet I roam here
With eyes baked in sugar
That envision it all,
Right down to the first footsteps
That I know very well
Will wake me up tomorrow.
I roam here so that I can awake
With a mind full of race horses
Excited in a freshly opened pasture
Of my tomorrow which I am now
In tonight as a late night dreamer.

Clouded Awake (day 3021)

This is not a rain suit
This is a cloudy mess
Of insanity
Flooding onto the streets
And washing away the dirt
Drug here from those leaving
From where we are from
There are no marks that turn around
We have not begun
We leave the traces of our hearts
Laying in the bed
Falling helplessly
Lifelessly
From the sky
Into the waking hours.

Beside Me (day 3009)

I took the worms
That had begun to gather around;
Flesh eating
Blood suckers,
Lost in red velvet feelings.
I took them to mass
Where we prayed for health
Like sordid strangers
Walking along
Black and white city streets.
I took them with me
For I had begun
To understand them
As they wriggled
Turned over in ecstasy
Amidst and amongst themselves
And beside me.

Rural Mistake (day 2898)

A rural mistake
Guarded by bats
Unconsciously sniveling
At the raw oysters
Sitting on the table
One spoke a word
That called out in a jest:
“How dare you speak
Of trash in such a tone!”
So the mail was gathered
Street was paved
Lawn was mowed
And the car was deiven
Straight off the cliff.

Bovine Squeals (day 2815)

As molten streets
Circumnavigated
Each island:
Utopia,
Madness circled
Each callused leader
Shaking fists
With Sir Devil.
Groans and
Bovine squeals
Inspired construction workers
To a fury,
That led each
Minister
To a foghorn;
Cattle afraid
On auction day.
Without much notice
Neither alarm
Necks were bled and drained
Swept away
Into a drain
Flushed away with rain.
And then began
– Recycled plan
Nothing new,
No change, all the same
Nothing to excite
Not a note to cause alarm –
Monotony
So deafening
Each victim
Just ceased
In plain.

Foggy Mirrors (day 2601)

It’s a damn shame
You used to ride around with foggy mirrors
In my largely used mind
Spinning wheels that ran me up
To a hundred miles an hour
Your headlights were my exposé
Dangling freely from the eye
Of my rear view mirror
But now the brakes have been applied
Shifted back down to first
Greens and reds and stop and go
City streets commanding slow

The Bane of Fullness (day 2470)

I don’t want to hold onto this enormous feeling.
A Skeptic once said the past isn’t present,
So let us believe that a fullness isn’t real
(A limit we reach where we can no longer give, share, believe),
Let this feeling take us on a tenderness stroll
Like sheer cotton shading giant pillows we lounge upon,
Meandering through ancient streets and wild forests
Where we stop at every third park bench we pass
To sit closely and pretend we’re still consciously speaking
In syllables that reason can understand and explain,
For to me your words speak in gestures only my ears
– And perhaps the dear sweet Cupid who so cleverly pinned us –
Can fully grasp at, mingled so heavily with vibrant lips
My eyes cannot escape being entranced by,
And breath mine hairs can feel so warmly upon
With your gentle yet firm fingers ever so delicately
Squeezing a new pattern into mine palm of eternity.
I want to hold onto you, the back of your neck with softest of curls
As our lips mean to share what we’ve intoned of a feeling,
Forgetting for brief moments our shooting star madness
And living a while longer by the bane of our senses.