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  Jun 2020 jordan
Carlo C Gomez
Springboarding
captured children,
locked in
vending machines,
like princes in the tower.

Swiping the barcode
imprinted upon their foreheads,
placing them in playpens
--free range, of course--
and listening to the stories
that caused them
to,
in this precise order,
fill,
spill,
chill...

To empty their lungs,
to rage against the machine
that first boiled blood
into the deflated veins
of their youthful tendencies.

Birthing a furlough,
for when
the wild
and profane
wish for scream time:

babes in the wood,
before figureheads to die for.
jordan Jun 2020
at this moment i am
crystalized and solidified
into this body and mind
that i call my self

when i die i become liquid
i exist only as a part of the whole
just as floating ice dissolves
my self will disappear

until i become a self once more
just like rain freezes to ice
melts and flows to the sea
then evaporates and falls as rain

but for the present moment
i pray that i'm as strong as a glacier
scraping canyons for mountain springs
carving a better world for those that follow
jordan Jun 2020
still, i stand still

history making
still, i stand still

untold years
thousands deep
still, i stand still

distant peaks
runoff snow
universal life-blood
still, i stand still

river bend
greening life
stampede muddy
valley floor
still, i stand still

hundreds flee
panicked hearts
shrieking predators
swift advance
sun-bleached skulls
but still, i stand still

heap of kin
dead and dying
trail of death
circling omens
battle wounded
facing demons
and still, i stand still

my kind ends
my home gone
tipped balance
lost race
drying tears
last breath drawn
sun is down
still, i lie still
best if you see the Bierstadt painting of the same name
jordan Jun 2020
he's lived ten thousand lives
he's died ten thousand deaths

he's helped uncounted beings
and he's hurt everyone

he's summited every peak
and died in every valley

he's been both emperor and thief
both savior and tyrant

he has laughed and he has cried
he lives and then he dies

still faithfully he trods
the path that never ends

the path seems like a circle
but the circle is a spiral

or so he tells himself
jordan Jun 2020
hope's words soar to heaven's height
leaving much time for contemplation
during the silent fall to earth's reality

when one quietly walks the path
of wisdom and compassion
they scale the tallest mountain

when planted on the highest peak
the whole partake of both
heaven's height and earth's reality
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