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 Aug 2019 savarez
TerryD'ArcyRyan
a man of means and meager will
perched upon his window sill  
playing vague for the promise of power
sings a song of a beg for the borrow
last chance, take the lead or follow
deny the headline buried shallow
a wink for here today gone tomorrow

patronize our cornerstone
lie to cover a backbone
stand upon the working hands
a great pretender in command
the artistic gesture moves the band
a flaunt for the sake of humanity
jaded swings on a strand

depravity seeks a bended knee
prosperity stands with hypocrisy
all to shake down a charity
inspires food for the Frey
feed the mighty, deny the small
the future strums for us all
as the fool dances, a fool circle

a lust to hunt is the pounce of greed
posed the tiger crouching mean
we see a coward dwelling in debris
fallen deep beside the seeds for spring
every bloom fighting for the surface
eager to bend, flourish, live to die savage
the grasp to breathe, a place to seethe



Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
 Jul 2019 savarez
Rangzeb Hussain
A homeless man,
living in a rotting factory,
found a limping crow,
crawling on the road,
about to be crushed
under the wheels of a car,

The man ran into the road
and saved the bird,

He got some water,
and he found some straw,
and he built a nest,
and bought some seeds,

In a crushed world
where animals and birds
are shot for man's mad sport,
the tale of a homeless man
saving a bird
gives the human race
hope for redemption.
 Jul 2019 savarez
Lawrence Hall
Corpses for...

                      If any question why we died,
                 Tell them, because our fathers lied.

                                       -Kipling

Drones fall like broken promises upon
The burning decks while errant missiles fly
From sea to murky sea keeping the peace
Of headless bodies bobbing in the surf

Our leaders’ wars are yeah-boy video games
(With single-malt) across a shiny screen
But workers’ wars are blood and dirt and death
And “Thank you for your service” (now go away)

The good die young, so do the bad, but not
The sons and daughters of our nomenklatura
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  THE ROAD TO MAGDALENA, PALEO-HIPPIES AT WORK AND PLAY, LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, DON’T FORGET YOUR SHOES AND GRAPES, COFFEE AND A DEAD ALLIGATOR TO GO, and DISPATCHES FROM THE COLONIAL OFFICE.
 Jul 2019 savarez
Rangzeb Hussain
In the halo of a secluded summer's stone,
A hush,
A stillness under the shade of slumbering trees,

This was life, living and breathing,
Singing too,
Now, only the weeping silence,

A name etched upon a fading headstone,
Fingerprints and memories withered away,
Upon the summer's light it still glimmers,

Nature's tender embrace soothes broken stone,
Curling and wiping away the past,
Death shall never darken the songs of life.
 Jul 2019 savarez
Marie-Lyne
In a world full
Of human machines
Don’t be afraid to feel
Take a day off
Rest
And take a break
Its the not knowing
About going,
The timing,
The means.
The dragging on
Or the sharp surprise.
There is no point
In lies but a word
To the wise,
Be ready to go,
Dont think you can stay.
 Jul 2019 savarez
CharlesC
knowing our luminous self
renders all else as commentary..
story is then recognized as story
and the facts in the morning paper
whatever their favor or disfavor
become simply a part of the story..

this recognition of our luminosity
is a gateway to freedom..
a gateway for which we have
searched..perhaps until this morning..
a gateway in plain sight..hidden only
by our immersion in story...
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