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Damocles May 19
Famished languished fingers reach skyward
As parched sea-salt-dried mouths open
Barely even a whimper escapes into the distance
Bemoaning in unison like gulls calling.

We wished for a future,
Devoid of reality
Avoidant of the derelict
Consumed with digital consumption —
While soiling the very veins of tree roots.

We make gods out of flawed humans
Who sings siren songs or plays the part in plays
Collecting praise and earthy riches,
Gold coin amnesia to sell their bodies for a hit of applause.

Meanwhile, our churches are empty,
The pews collect dust,
No one remembers his name
No one praises in fear or love
It’s pedestrian, mundane, a common act
Meaningless like Valentine’s Day
We took the magic and turned it into paper collage art.

It happened with a crack of the world,
A thunderous voice anguished across black clouds
And strikes of lightning showing enraged veins
And birds, like angels, fell from the heavens,
Crashing upon the rain-stained and wetted soil.

We should have heeded the warning.

As the fires are burning,
Scorching skin to cement
Melding bone to iron rod,
California is lost, gone to the water
Drunk from the ocean,
Sand storms from the Valley of Death
Filling their orifices
Swath away the faithless in a single blow.
And behold the rising of the deep below.

Ashes befoul the air like a rainstorm
Choking oxygen from the lungs,
We bathed in the currents of poisoned waters
And bore children in chimeric horrors,
Cosmic old ones stir under their beds uncomforted
As the earth stirs, and breaks her silence.

Death would be a simple act of grace and mercy
If only to watch along purgatorial veils of fog
As we sing like beached sirens.

A hymn to the skyward palisades
Where no one is there to listen.
The world is in such dire straits and I feel that as a species we are lost. We have abused Mother Earth, and forsaken god or our spiritual deities. This is a thought of what could be an outcome. A concept.
Why don't we steal away

And let me love you tonight

Because you and I've been in love to long

And I'd really love to see you tonight.

So why don't we steal away

(So you can)

Do that to me one more time

(You know )

I'm all out of love

And I can never get enough of a girl like you.

Cause Honey you are my shining star

(In fact you are)

You are The biggest part of me.

And that's how much I feel, feel for you Baby

But most of all I do love you

STILL.
line 1 Robbie Dupree
line 2 Pure Prairie League
line 3 Ambrosia
line 4 England Dan and John ford Coley
line 5 Robbie Dupree
line 6 Captain and Tennille
line 7 Air Supply
line 8 Captain and Tennille
line 9 The Manhattans
line 10-11 Ambrosia
line 12 The Commodores
Ok so this is far from being a good poem but it was just a little experiment I did with a new you tube video.
every line was from a song on the Billboard hot 100 for the year 1980
Checkout the video on my channel
www.youtube.com/@tsummerspoetry
thanks.
We use metaphors in poetry.
Something dramatic and attention-catching
to stand in for something ordinary.
Metaphors are poet's best friend.
After all, a poem without descriptive language is just
a really dramatic essay.
So my question is?
How do you know when they stop being metaphors?
Would you even ever know?
If it's dramatic enough,
no one will know.
Eerie concept...
William A Poppen Aug 2024
Those pictures of me
Are disingenuous images

Blurred from the start
The fuzziness has grown over time

I’m told to see myself
Where can I find a true mirror?

Others say the sounds of me
Are clear and eye-opening

I listen for the sounds inside me
Can sounds ring distinct and genuine

Still much static blurs
The best parts of me

I seek to find silence
To settle into solitude

I engage in deeply
Listening to the uttering of my heart

My heart emits a song
Of the genuine me
Self-esteem, self concept, insight, compassion
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