A Rain held back for Months;
Its much anticipated Deluge—
Perhaps tucked away in another Time and Space
Somewhere—
Finally pours down.
And in the absence
of Obscuring Dust,
Unmasked
like the sparkling sands
Beneath the ebbing tides
Are Concealed Memories
of an Ancient Strength;
A Higher Glory—
All the Substantial and Fine prints
of Our Saintly, Peak Empire.
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Have you been Alarmed
By the specks
of Tragic Truth
That have peered through
The Fog of terror and anxiety
In this Year of years,
2020?
“They are dropping like flies.”
Who are these unfortunate Souls,
Who let go of their Names,
Their Friends and Families—
Their Loved ones,
and Exchanged
Their Significance and Purpose
For an irreversible membership
In the Nameless Club
of Decaying flies?
Who are you?
You Individuals now turned
Empty seats?
You, The Hole
In our Hearts?
If God Willing,
You are still here,
Help Us, if you cannot help
Yourself —
Help Us,
So we shall not shed
More Tears,
So we aren’t further
Sobered and Yellowed
by your Departure.
There’s plenty o’ Pain
Here,
We’re sure —
But it’s still bearable
and Beautiful
With You Still Here.
Another Year and Half on Hiatus, When will your Songs be Heard?When you've been put Under?
Break your Eggs, my Friend---You are every bit as ConsequentialAs the Stars and the Moon!It'd be a SinTo hide your EssenceAnd mute your Lustre.
Faint
But not so
Distant
Echoes
Of Sweet Melodies,
Sang by the Innocence
Of Our Children.
The Sun’ll Shine
Once again,
As their Precious Tune
Draw nearer,
and Nearer —
Let it be,
That This Time,
The Better Angels
Of Our Nature
Will Never Again
Allow the Beauty of Innocence
To fade and wilt into
Grotesque and Unseen
Absence…!
Never again,
Shall We turn a Blind Eye, and
For millennia,
Tolerate the hidden,
Unseen, unheard, but
Grossly Rampant Lacerations
That took place
Night after Night,
Six-feet Under.
Yes,
The Sun Will Shine
This Time —
This Time…
Broken Hearts
Are Not Forgotten.
shadows crawling, sins go on repeating
as you scantily prop your back,
fighting cross-generational
demons.
years without Transcendence
or pure self destruction,
cut out from the fast and easy
perishing---
do you find yourself now
so needlessly harsh,
morbidly crass;
so stubbornly brash?
would opening your skull,
and peeking in to
snap these tense cords
bring you final release?
mute screams, muffled
between inner ears
reverberate and
seep---
until we are nothing
but knots over knots:
finding ourselves
in a messy string.
But hey now---
hey now, hey now:
If we are so Lucky
as to
Carry On Living...
Remember,
Grit your teeth!
trace the harder
route to Release---
Follow the timeless Patrons
of Form and Patience,
And all the while,
.
.
.
Rage.
Plan with fervor;
Desist; Trample if you must---
but Do---
not try but do,
Toss
until chaos
becomes Peace.
Particular Moments 