stand strong

Now close the door

Stand strong

Don’t give in

To their chants and songs

Noisy excessive din

Be bold

Take control

You have a job to do

You won’t be moved

By their weakness

No surrender

Stand tall

Give your all

Heed not

Their cries and pleas

Contagious disease

Look at them

Pathetic

We are united you and me

Together

We will make history

Change history

Listen to me

Their silly fears

Will pass

With them

They’ll forget

What you did

Their children will never guess

So don’t give in

You have a job to do

Besides they are breaking the rules

I’ve just written

The fools.

still music

Still music.  Listen!  Scattered notes ~

poems, figments of imagination

Desperately suspending disbelief

The drum of my fingertips

Taps the rhythm of your grief

 

Still photograph.  See!  A face ~

Its million pixels a gleaming screen

Eyes reflect an encoded smile locked

Eternal,  in someone else’s dream

 

Still film.  Watch!  A dance ~

Caught on celluloid, copy and paste

Now in a tomb of virtual space.

 

This place.  Where we are.  Unreal theatre ~

We still applaud, still cry, still remember,

We still rebuke, still love, still piece together

 

Still alive

 

They say memories are a long drawn out death

This still place feels cold and cavernous to an uninvited guest.

peter pan’s shadow

peter pan’s shadow got away

escaped

would not stay

too long

in one place

yearned for a little life of its own

no place was home

but the world

and on the run it felt free

from all the constraints and chains

of gruesome normality

with all its neatly folded

fears of its own mortality

and uncreased desires

fixed and unbending

so frayed and ragged

afraid and tired of its

stitched together unending conformity

of being told where it could go

of how it should imitate every move

perfectly or risk the wrath of its creator

peter pan’s shadow got away

and would never live

the life dictated by somebody else.

stitch by stitch

bit by bit

it loosened

and suddenly it…

how silently they cast their lies

How silently they cast their lies–

the deadly bait awaits

the unsuspecting little bites

nibbling at their fates.

how carefully they set their sights —

 finger poised to shoot

just above the little calf

its mother rendered mute.

how joyfully they come and go

all smiles and platitudes

they punctuate their carefree lives

with deadly interludes.