Don't trust the Australians
When they call you "mate".
They were the Slaughterers of the Aboriginals,
And, if they "mate" with you,
It means you're gonna' get it up your ass.

If there is something that people desire
More than sex.
If there is something people want
More than money.
If there is something people crave
More than drugs,
They want to be able to control and dominate
Over other people.
On these social networks,
One sees all sorts of trolls and drones,
Playing someone else's political game.
They're political prostitutes,
Sucking the cock
Of the god of Power.

Illusions of skydiving in a kimono
are not nightmares that awaken her
in a sweat each night

Fantasies of floating like a drone
creep into morning daydreams

Unprepared for make-believe
no kimono hangs in her closet

Each day she stands in front
of her full-length mirror
stares at perceived imperfections
as they thicken before her eyes

Friends don’t notice
each misplaced mole
or cellulite pleading
to hide from any

Co-workers notice her
post-it-note headline

“Intelligent Perfect Women
Skydives in Kimono”

affixed to the cubicle wall

Today results of
her search for kimonos
of various colors
is carefully placed in
a folder entitled skydiving

My wife wonders where the idea for this poem came from.  My answer - I have no idea.

Every five minutes they come
whirring like copters for war
slashing through immaculate peace
you crave to blanket your day with

Those speeding three-wheeled
are kings of small streets and
act like you must pay them to

Extricate you from a cluster of
doomed and dusty eggs and bacon
deliver all that racket

in your head
every time you think
about buzzing

on your meatloaf
in your heart
in your dreams
on your hopes
on your thoughts

about how marriage
should be
a man and a woman
now one soul in
two bodies
living together
fighting for stable

The roses look damp
bouquets of mums
on the kitchen table
you pouring hot coffee;
the mug you took two
hours to pick out
is punctiliously stained.

Wes Rosenberger Jul 2016

Most accidents
happen near the hive,
near the home.
That's why I chose
to be a drone,
and go it alone.
Buzzing, stinging, pollinating,
all for the good graces
of my queen's throne.
The workers
sitting at home,
wishing they were me.
Out collecting pollen
like a bigger,
better bee.

Denel Kessler Mar 2016

shadow death
the spiraling

silent over
once vital beehive
shorn gray
paper thin

raw honey
in the merciless

the suffering
concentration-camp thin
jutting bone
slack skin

the boundless light
of a shield
wrought from

these golden
futile gestures
they are not
infinitesimal grains

with beaded sight
do not avert
your eyes

Leal Knowone Jan 2016

This is America. Our spirits don't speak English. This is the land of the natives we extinguish. This is the nation we take what we want. its the material possessions and money we flaunt.Sending Drones to your country killing your kids, but in America were the drones whats on the TV and buy what they sell,conform to our ways or go to hell.
this is the way that they arranged it.IT DON'T take quantum physics to explain it. give it 5 years and they'll be tapping our dreams with product placement.

Notes (optional)
Liam C Calhoun Aug 2015

I spot a drone today;
No bombs,
But with plenty o’ potential –
A will to malice,
To malcontent, to murder.

I seek it south
And at its zenith,
Above dissent,
And the bastion that’d never know
Better, from worse.

So too, I spy it over the sands
And over cave,
Over Manhattan, over perdition,
And over “god,” over greed,
Over "great," and god-damned

A glistening, wrought silver teething,
“Dead,” come one wrong,
Word, or whatnot,
Anything antagonist “corporate,”
Our contradictory content,
Blessed, this,
“Complacency,” – indiscriminate.

Unbeknownst and melancholy-ridden,
The bombs have dropped,
And for some time now,
A sooner to be eternity
Whilst we’ve managed nothing but
The simplest of slumber;

We’re lucid but one second
And sheep more so the years.
The flock afar-critical,
As abstained become the hours,
The minutes, until, “then,”
Atop, “when,”
Whilst we learn again to breathe,
Maybe even dream,
And relieve the nooses continually
Knotted by others –

It’s an imaginary rebellion. Sure.
And I’m sure you’d agree;
Yet still, I soak a nightmare’s sweat
Whilst we gladly assume our
Peasant’s role
And as long as we do,
“They’ll,” gladly assume their

Some have asked about my political standing - we'll here's if only a fragment. I'm a wanderer, 36 countries and counting; lived in four (6 months or longer). I love my home; but home's riddled with problems too. If this offends you, than oh well. America's not what it used to be; I miss what it used to be, but also realize a lot has to change.
David Montgomery May 2015

so sick of the media hype
got drones whatching over
watching what you type,
heard a runner for the big job say,
if you were thinking about joining,
the dark side,
he'd kill you with a drone ray,
no trial, no qualms,
no lawyer, no Psalms,
they'll kill you
if it looks like you "might"
get blood on your palms,
who reads minds to see?
when did we lose democracy?
Since when did the land of the free,
become the land of the huddling masses,
and afraid,

I'm not drinking the cool-aid.

Media tells you what they want you to know,
keeps you scared at night,
so you'll go where they want you to go,
so you buy what they want you to buy,
fills our young minds with propaganda and mis-info,
Wake up America,
you still have rights,
wake up America,
it's not about blacks or whites,
wake up America,
land of brotherhood,
don't trade your rights,
for fabled comfort,
from dark knights,
stand up as brother and sister,
stand up as Mrs. and Mr.
and together make your voice be heard,
before it's too late,
before its too late,
Is that a drone or is that bird?
shhh don't speak so loud,
you might be heard.

(c) dm 2015

(Lindsey Graham, recently noted when it comes to terrorists: “I’m not going to call a judge. I’m going to call a drone and kill you.”) This guy is running for office?

This to me is not how the America I grew up in should work. What happened to people having the right to a fair trial? This guy running for president is a joke. Anyone who thinks they are above the law, should not be above the people, because it means they will lord over you.
PrttyBrd Jan 2015

On the horizon
Pockets are empty
Black meets blue
In hues of the pain of yesterday

In hand
The vending machine's empty
Six miles out of reach, out of juice,
And out of gas

The television channel
Vapid Anchors are empty
Teleprompter madness
In full make up and air conditioning

Her mind
Her heart is empty
Abused by the fallacy in the word love
On the lips of liars

Of venue
His smile is empty
He feels the souls too deeply
There is no one here to notice the smile isn't real

A life
The Child's eyes are empty
The streets are kinder
Than the junkies who sold him for a fix

The world
The people are empty
Media drones brainwashed
Into apathetic zombies

That is how to stop

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