The sky is falling
Little lights slowly descend
Little broken rays of solar skin
Coursing in the blue horizon

The day dies a slow
And sensual death
Teasing out each second
With slowly disappearing
Orange illusions
Till the night consumes
The suns last gasp

Veins of lightning
Crackle in the distance
We count the seconds
To imagine how safe
We might be

The cloud sweats and spits
Falling debris
Soaking me

My mind searches
For less familiar ways
To say the same thing
I wearily search
For a better way
To stay awake in the wake
Of this sad storm
Till I can let sleep
Refresh the best of me

It is a solid ache
Harder then
The chest tightening
Cardiac devastation

Hands shake
While I wait
For the world
To catch up to
My kind of love

Tears fall
Unless I distract myself
The cemetery
Holds more like minds
Than I ever find
In these times

I am alone in a sea
Of self-satisfied idiots
Who think the idiot is me

Muscles melt
Legs bend
Minds tend
Towards fantasies

Chants and prayers
Inaction in subservience
While they let the madness go on
But I am wrong

A child starves
They pray
A war goes on
They pray
Rug burns
And sore *****
Bent over
Waiting for an answer
That never comes
But I am the *******

The rose melts
Painted crimson
In fairytales
Of wonderland

The sun departs
Vacating its hydrogen heart
Leaving me with
Only its darker parts

Cascades of liquid
The coagulating kind
Float inside
My troubled mind

Thus, I wonder
While my fingers tap
Beat for heart
Equal to the first
As it will be the last
Will I ever live to see
Such madness pass

My father lost the balance of his mind
in World War II
& the rest followed from Parkinsons,
Dementia, PTSD, paranoia
& ghosts that haunted him
in the middle of the night.
What did he die for?
So politicians & generals
could manipulate us into believing
that endless war is “normal”?
So bankers could pocket billions
while children starve and sleep in the streets
in this land of so-called liberty?
So veterans can beg for money
with jars draped in red & white flags
outside the grocery store
& we all pitch in the silver?
Someone please tell me that this is not why
I was emotionally orphaned at birth
or why I can not recall his weathered hands
without seeing them tremble.

We're told to look here ---------------> .
Meanwhile {this} is happening
& the media says (insert 'official' story here)
& repeats repeats repeats
a thousand times
until we're all singing
karaoke

                   *

or you decide to wake up.