It's all there on the front page
Our vain glory has all been staged
We never lost a war
just snuck out the back door
How was it white man's destiny became a red man's leprosy
How this nation was built upon the backs
Of those whip slinging ******* jacks
And where all men are created equal except for women and blacks and latino children
After all God bless America
as long as your white
a good republican , rich or not too bright
There are cracks in its mighty walls
The rebar so corrupted there has to be a great fall
So this drive by history
is an aged metal band
Deep in their seventies
their heads in the sand

I seek starlight from burnt out hearts,
where gaseous clouds swirl about
sparkling with the glittering infinity,
living far above and away from me;

Like minded fantasies of spiraling galaxies
swelling with stellar hope
till I succumb
to the collapsed sun
of humanity's
black hole.

This is a business
not a country,
a place for profits
not humanity.

A place where
they won’t bother
to save your starving
baby brother.

A place where
the politicians
don’t care
if your grandma gets ill
and dies
as long as they
are able to save
the stock market.

A place where
the right to life
is how the right fights
against woman’s right
to choose,

A place where
they may give you
a penny or two
to get through
a pandemic,
but they have
unlimited funds
for the fathers,
daughters, and sons
of the corporations
that run America.

She is a lost wisp of a lover’s wish,
a forgotten whisper that lingers on
his cracked dry lips
in the desert heated hazy distance,
that one foolish man dreams of.

A serene scene set in-between
fantastic fantasies of cosmic entities
and domestic tranquility.

A tranquil bay reflecting white light rays
while one heart falters, falling before
he could help the whole human race.

As her echo dies in space
the rest of this human mess
is left to witness
his heartbreaking losses
as hope departs
his beautiful heart
and he is struck dumb
succumbing to
the numbing view
of a flowerless reality.

I’ve been to the dark.
I’ve swam in that river,
seen the cold and aching,
sit stare and quiver.

I’ve looked into
the eyes of a man
more suited to slither,
and watched good women
tell him to come hither.

I’ve been in the shadows.
I’ve heard hatred speaking,
fat faces stretched in rage
with slick saliva leaking,

and all the light
that I used to believe in,
becomes my last shreds
of hope, finally, up and leaving.

Now, I walk into the end,
write the world’s last chapter,
cause this isn’t a Disney movie
and there’s no happily ever afters.

When I go back to the night
that we all sprang from,
I’ll be grateful for the ending
of my personal hell kingdom.

Is it too late
to write a first date
that went great,
without a face
to go with
that shadow figure?

Is it too late
to see the dream
that I am chasing
and actually catch
her?

Is it too late
to wake in fear,
facing tears
of familiar aches,
were loneliness
takes my dry eyes
and turns them wet,
only to turn my head
and find my beloved
lying next to me
in our shared bed?

Is it too late
to activate
the dream state
that elevates
all past hate
and into
a better world
to view,
a place where
I am able to
hold on to
hope?

I fear that I know
it is to late
for me to believe
that some love is
coming for me.

Brown
to graying
long whiskers waving
creature displaying
innocence playing.

It’s a youtube
rabbit hole
that I follow
to ease my
sorrowful soul,
that has been
swallowed
by this hollow
hateful
world.

A ten minute
diversion
from what is
so urgent
as cute and fluffy
kind of scruffy
otters eat
and live
playfully.

Soft
fur rubbing
adorableness
to counter
this
horribleness
I have witnessed
for most of
my life.

Sleeping
to swimming
squeaking
to running,
on the rock
sunning.

What a nice break
from the hate
I’ve seen.

Next stop
jungle sloths
hanging from
a tree.

These are scary times
and I don’t want to be
the reason my family gets
this covid disease.

A lot of people
are out of work,
and I won’t complain
and be that ****
because I still get to
cash a check,
but doing so risks more
then just my neck.

These are troubled times
and I am afraid my greed
is preventing me
from doing what I need
to keep my family
and friends safe,
and illness free.

My baby brother
and his significant other
are getting ready to become
a father and a mother,
so, since I am still
out here working
I told them to stay
away from me
cause I don’t want
my unborn nephew or niece
to get sick and die
from whats going through.

These are strange days.
The gyms are closed
and my friends
all stay home,
just like my dad
whose sixty-five
with diabetes
and blood pressure
to high,
and every night
when I drive back
I worry that
this man who has had
a heart attack,
might catch something
that I bring home to him.
Still, I go in.
I keep working,
but if he gets sick and die,
I think I might try
and commit suicide.

I want to dull this
daily business
pain that hits us
minor misfits
with ballistic
bouncing *****
of depression
that fall
and bounce
right back
to jack slap
pain into
our red face,
as we are shamed
for our class
and unverifiable
race.

The battle is lost.
I burnt the body,
but this burden is
built from such shoddy
materials.

I dreamed of something,
more than just a
colored standard that waves
for brave patriots.

But the bullets blazed,
and soft flesh was bathed
in war’s wicked rage.

People were reduced
to ***** dog tags,
and black body bags
while mothers fell to tears.

Their parents thought
their children would be brought
home to cheers.
Instead, they face
what they refused to feel,
not understanding
that this fear was real.

While you were stuck,
getting drunk,
and punched
by your punk
boyfriend,

I was out
trying to make
poetic impressions
to inform other humans
what lies before them.

While your redneck
gotta get some ****,
barely ever there
partner who only cares
when it’s convenient
was getting mean
in your apartment,

I was out trying to write
love, wisdom,
and a sea of compassion
into this desert dry
dismal life.

While you were celebrating
race bating,
rich men taking
all that our labors
are making
while claiming
some poorer
population
is polluting
our great nations,

I was studying
and working
towards
self-improvement.

I know you tried to teach me
how to be mean and greedy,
but even though
I’m an amazing
autodidact,
I just can’t seem
or even want to
cash in on the
***** everyone else
capitalistic scheme,
American dream.

The Point Of No Return

  We have come to the beginning
Of the end, but it’s been for sometime
We’ve closed our eyes, just like to all
Of God’s beauty,so sublime

As time ticked away we told God we
Didn’t need him, we’re better on our own
And now here we are with no feelings
For our hearts have turned to stone

The world has gone insane, with kids
Killing kids in our schools
Everyone just doing as they please
Paying no attention to the rules

Now it seems we’ve reached the pinochle
The capital or the rebellion we must choose
Just like our past civil war but with this
There’s no winner we all just lose

Brother killing brother
From history we refuse to learn
Can we turn it around or have we
Past the point of no return

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 06/07/2020
All rights reserved