Volcanic eruption
corruption
unemployment
recession, depression
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan

Earth quakes
rumbles
Wall Street crumbles
Haitian children wail
tidal waves prevail

Global warming
fiction or warning?
Taxes, health care
how to handle
the next scandal

Hawaiian birth
takes precedence
over incidents. Coincidence?
Arizona immigration
discrimination

Oil spill
of gigantic proportions
contortions
in the Gulf
causing strife, ending life

Bomb in Times Square
where? not here!
just sit and sip your beer
watch the world go by
with a wink and a sigh!

Sometimes we are powerless
nothing we can do
our head in the sand,
don't understand
not care, or dare
to question?

What is our place
in this space
our destiny and fate
to help our world continue on
so our children can survive?

The world is spinning out of control

Iraq, Iran, Afganistan
Quakes, Rumbles, Crumbles
Global Conservation, Preservation
Distortions, Contortions
Bombs and Beer
Dare to Care


Frenzied

© 2010 Marlene Dunham

[After Flanders Fields, by Major John McCrae, 1915]

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields,
the beaches of France,
Palestine groves,
Malaya's tropics,
Korean mountains,
Egypt's deserts,
Cyprus' beaches,
Borneo's forests,
Aden's marshes,
Falkland's heaths,
Balkan's tundra,
Afganistan bush,
Iraqi highlands,
[Keep list open....]

Remember the pitch of the leaky faucet

In the third floor restroom

Neither male

Nor female

Nor both.

Speaking in unison

That pitch

What was the ******* pitch

Dribbling eighth notes

Tears worth pinning on your wall

Next to your unused bottle of sunscreen

From the time we drank in your living room

And I realized you cared.

There is a star on my pocket

But I won’t remember it tomorrow

Nor will I remember why

I connected the six-petaled flower hole

To Afganistan. Sleek. Smooth.

I slid a straw through my ear

Gazing past the green disoperation

And noticed two formings of pimples beneath the right brow

But maybe I imagined that too

Along with the adrenaline and curiosity and false negativity.

Shooting through my ankles

Enveloping every muscle fiber

Every menacing footstep

I approach the door of Debussy

Wading deep into the kelly green

“Open” sign

Sharpied just so no one ever flips it.

Every frazzled hair follicle  executes

Frustration towards the poor soul

Entering doom.

Marracas from elementary

I whispered beneath my mustache

“Fancy seeing you here”

Lingering my capillaries over their stitching

A live animal in a dead environment.

Pink toes and the Sostenuto pedal

Beckon my return to civilization

I remember why I’m here.

I remember why I’m not.

All these political ideas,
Some good and some bad,
Everything is just one big matter of opinion,
A matter of opposition,
Debate,
Chaos and war should cease,
But some powerful leaders use both as an attempt to find peace,
Or not,
To me they seem confused,
Bemused,
Could it be that these madmen want absolute power?
Of course it does,
Government is just oppressive.


When will the madness end?
And the killing?
The war?
The slavery of women and children?
The making of ******?
When will the government stop causing pain?


I don't mean to pry Mister Prime Minister but how many promises do you keep?
Under your rule how many children weep every day?
How much blood is spilled for the governments sake?
How many war confused sailors drown in the sea?
Afganistan's going down well don't you think?
Hows Osama?
Seen much of him recently?
Could it be that you know nothing?
I'm starting to think that your not fit for this role.


I have some demmands mister useless Prime Minister man,
Do something about this decaying world instead of letting it rot!
Do something to help!
You shouldn't need a teenage anarchist poet to tell you that,
Now do your job,
Get up off your **** and motivate the rest of you liberal politician *****!
Rant over.

I'm standing in a massacre
the sky is streaked with red,
we took the hill, we won the day,
but most of us are dead.

We fought to save each other's lives;
We fought for mom  and dad;
now all of that's been blown away,
I'm weary now and sad.

The bankers took the houses
and Wall Street still stands tall;
we only took this ****** hill
that matters not at all.

I've been a soldier all my lives:
Shiloh to Vietnam,
from Valley Forge to Gettysburg
to bleak Afganistan.

But I am through with fighting now
these wars for gold and oil;
I'm falling back, I'm headed home,
to win my native soil.

You politicians better fly,
you bankers run away;
For I am home and angry
and that's how I'm going to stay.

You've never seen a battle,
You've never smelled the dead;
you shipped us off like cattle
to do the work instead.

Take back my broken medals,
Take back your shining lie,
for Armageddon's coming
and it's time for you to die.

I'm standing in a massacre,
the sky is streaked with red
we took the hill, we won the day,
but most of us are dead.

The bugles all are silent
as the night begins to fall,
but the living have a purpose
to go home and **** you all.

Is this war that  nation should rise against nation for one plot of
Land ?
Or demons should call on man from Satans rebelius throne
and temp the lonely in solitude to such ,
and for man to call on Gods holy army's to unite against
this sin ,
Flesh ,
and the devil ?
Or is it two lovers who go to war ,
with a ring and a kiss ,
and dreams of Marrage ,
Only for him to be blown sky high ,
and their hearts and ***** embrace no more .
In Afganistan ,
the taliban ,
An open grave ,
For what ?
A holy war ,
A misguided evil ,
A sack cloth of sin .
For just as two little boys with only one toy ,
Should sqobble and fight and cry ,
a dark truth must remain ,
That man is flawed ,
and prone to evil so cancarus. the sin .

For just as moon shine is its glory ,
Hell awaits .

For just as guns are for killing ,
A widow waits ,

And for every shelling and morta bomb ,
a church bell tolls .

But the fig tree shall bloom in summer  
and seas crash upon its shore ,
And men shall return from fighting ,
Pick up their guns no more ,
And lovers walk hand in hand on sandy beach and shale .
Not a bitter word between them ,
Draw love hearts in the sand .

Neajunsuri
Am scris mii de cuvinte, 0 răspunsuri
Sute de paragrafe în ani fără repercusiuni.
Locul mă înghite
Nu tot ce zâmbește, minte.
Și totuși încă scriu cuvinte.
Inima sparge în palpitații
Mintea râde și întristează generații
Iar mi-e frică, iar mă mint, iar adorm în fibrilații.
Neajunsuri, se rezumă
Ce să calculez, când tot e în venă.
Mintea conjugă, durerea e genetică.
Mama râde și mă-ntreabă dacă eu chiar am inimă.
Eu cu ochii pe sub unghii, ascult și jur că cineva mă strigă.
Poate e băiatul de pe trotuar spunând că sunt înstărită ,
Tata ajungând și-n Afganistan, are buzunar de armată.
Poate e doar o proiectare și altă inutilă supărare,
Un comentariu rupt în soare, o rază arzătoare.
Eu ascult și mi-aș astupa buzele.
Să nu mai aibă dorințe.
Adevăruri, minciuni... O sărutare.
Ce-mi mai stă în cale.
Îmi e frică, poate sunt eu
Nu oameni, nici minte nici Dumnezeu.
Rup din mine pentru nimeni
După încep să caut,
Liniștea caută și ea crize,
Nu mai *** să mă ascund.

N     A          T              O

No

       Army

                   Time

                                    Out


Afganistan Syria Iraq Libya

Yemen and children is all

you miserable cowards are

capable of, the defenceless

or weak, where’s the bluster

now, you spineless ****.

Vlad is Putin the boot in

your faces he’s broken

   all of your teeth, you

         are bleeding.

          F. UK. US.

           met their

            match
              
              but  
            
              do

               ?

and on her 13th birthday... she had a pool party and night before I talked with Edie and... grandma... while baking a dry sponge, strawberry, vanilla, glaze... ridiculous... I guess long term relationships only work when you live in the bellybutton 0 meantime of London... and your love scandal is 18 years older than you and on the island of Kauai... then she talks about her past boyfriends... you get jealous... fine: fibrous... fine fine...adds to my character to chew... but then... then...she shows you pictures of her fron her youth... ... ... ... ... get a proper I.Q. m.o.t. if you don't get my, ******* surf / drift as to what I'm insinuating; ****.

I cry,
And the weapons
Of tears
That come running
From my eyes
Slither
Winding
Into my ears
And I am born
With the Gemini-Tongue.
Breeding Taurus
With a Virgo...
O joyous child
Reyla my dearest concept
My crocodile affectionate
why why why
O... whimper blue hue who...
I love you so dearly,
Never mind regarding
Whether you're mine,
Or not...

this much time...
I allow you...
take comfort, but also
take concern...
for hooves,
for cobblers,
foe for foe....
the crippling "agriculture"
of English culture
via Afganistan
near Arabs to the Romans....

for neckties and
buttons... ooh...
Smaug might asssssssk...
Button fiddler?
Shoe shiner?
A tailor, misnomer...
a tyer of...shoelaces?
and of tonguessssss?

You walk the same shoes
but with only one tongue?
shame on humanity
for not being:
at least! Commonly,
collectively, bilingual...
If! So much gay ****
gets celebrated
like Nus the **** deity
Of **** gets celebrated
like peekaboo Lucifer
throwing tantrums
descending from rhe trauma
of a sea in the heavens
being born via a ****.

Defunct Islam...
two eyes, two feet...
two ears... two hands...
Dajjal replies...
Well well well...
Allah is not one eyed?
Oh wow... wow wow wow...
bur he's only equipped
with one tongue...
Blindman of the Desert...
So Allah has two eyes...
but only ONE tongue?
What a strange blindness
to be thus, celebrated...
two eyes but only one to tongue...
I guess... pity the blind man
and a speaker of seven tongues.