Accelerated trauma
Starts my videotape
I replay it ten times over
Until my body breaks

The voices in the distance
Lost by a wall of sound
Distorted scenes crush me
Falling to the ground

Screaming out in fear
A fight before my eyes
Lashing out around me
Leads to my demise

Rapid breathing dissipates
Calmness fills the air
Tears break the silence
Fills me with despair

The dark storm receding
Carnage everywhere
Scattered lives around me
Damaged beyond repair

(20 minute poetry)

Here and there
twenty minutes is where
I write.

Sitting tight or
standing light on my feet
listening to the beat of
the rhyme.

And time doesn't care
If you're there
It knows that you will be
one day.

In the underground torpedo
I go where the lines go
and the lines seem to
lead me to you.

I write on until the words
are gone and I come to an
end which is just a beginning,
time sits on my shoulder grinning
at me.

In being nearly there although I feel that I'm here I think to myself that life is quite clearly queer, but the thought like the tube train disappears down the dark track and I'm back to where I think I belong .

Living on this planet
Is causing growing animosity
For I do not fear death
It's more like a curiosity
Transcending this dimension
As my energy is released
Ending this ostracism
And anguish will be ceased
I do not wish to die, you see
But thoughts linger in my head
What's the point of being here
When all I feel is dread?

By: Cedric McClester

I heard the news
And it was numbing
Cuz so few of us
Saw it coming
The icon had
A sad homecoming
To a funeral dirge
And muffled drumming

Bowie dead at 69
Yet again reinvented
Read the headline
Now he belongs
To the annals of time
The rarest of treasures
You will find
It’s so sad that he’s crossed the line

I can’t imagine
Where to start
Was he an artist,
Or was he art?
A master of
The record chart
From Paris France
To Germany’s Stuttgart

And now the world
Must say farewell
To the clanging of
A cathedral’s bell
But he left music
To compel
Those of us
Who wished him well























Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.

that satellite
is wearing a cape!
  super moon

Syria.
It's a worrier
and
no wonder I can't sleep.

Do we stay out or
do we go in with 'boots on the ground?'

Harold said,
'this won't affect the pound in your pocket'
that's torn it,
the hawks will have *******, but
no win, no fee or should that be
no win, no free?

It's a puzzle of a poser,
suppose we
dispose of the lies,
we could with an open pair of eyes
see
things differently.

I think
infantry,
in my infancy I fancy
there's always a chance we
might
stay out.

A just war
or
just war?

3900 light years from earth
a mere 1.2 billion miles across,
makes me wonder who your master is
and what magic it takes to fill
your feeding bowl

I wish I could ****
the kiloparsecs keeping us apart
and see you, unleashed, maybe chasing
Frisbees left by the barking big bang

I hope you don't bite