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the wild west's still with us
it isn't gone at all
8 shot inside a high school
11 at the mall

Tombstone is no longer
Dodge City, it's now dust
But, the wild west's still with us
Believe disgust

They no longer use revolvers
And have show downs in the streets
They've moved it to the school room
Where children hide beneath their seats

The press are there like vultures
The NRA cries foul
11 dead inside the mosque
But people wail and howl

They've the right to carry guns
You can't take that away
So, when you explain that to their folks
Just what do you say?

The wild west's still with us
It's a fact, that's true
It's not the same as it once was
This wild west is new

Shootings in the workplace
Shootings at the schools
Shooting in the churches
Are there any rules?

Each night the news is showing
A new shooting, it won't stop
The shooter dies a victim
And it's always death by cop

The wild west's still with us
It isn't gone at all
7 dead inside the church
11 at the mall
Zywa May 26
Man is a wild animal
in a herd, a group
that organizes
to be tamed

but it's not easy
to get the systems right
There are unexpected effects
or oppressive requirements

No one is responsible
Deposing leaders, killing
dictators makes no difference
The people tolerate the successor

Help is needed
From the outside, but
the borders are deadly
to humanity

So I must appreciate little
things, a glance
the clouds, fresh bread once
and dream what is forbidden
The main forms of totalitarian power:
    • capitalist kleptocracy of shareholders
    • oligarchic kleptocracy of a dictatorship
    • "family" kleptocracy of the mafia

Novel and screenplay "Metropolis" (1924, Thea von Harbou; film 1927, Fritz Lang)

Film "Modern Times" (1936, Charlie Chaplin)

Collection "Mastress"
the air is the dust
the air is the mass
the dust is the pane
the pane is the mass
the pane is the air of dust
the pane is the air of mass
mass is a pane of mass

the air is the chemical
the air is the pane
a chemical is a pane of chemical
a chemical is a pane of air
a chemical is a chemical of mass
a dust of air is a dust of mass
a dust of air is a dust of chemical

intelligent is a air of intelligent
intelligent is a mass of intelligent
a pane intelligent is a pane mass of intelligent
a pane intelligent is a pane air
dust is dust of a air intelligent
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words from the renaissance for instance words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc... this poem is about the science of time,mass,and air. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
jia Jul 2016
people shall govern,
as the fools will be burned.
mass will reign and learn.
mula sa masa, tungo sa masa.
Seightan Jul 2020
I will make you remember our first mass in the dark.

I followed you into the shadows, I was lost for a while, but somehow I found you. And we were not ourselves anymore.

Breathing heavily while our eyes were closed,
You kept calling on God's name,
but I know you were not praying.
I heard you singing the psalms while I was worshiping you.

I love the way you pulled my hair as I was taking my communion.
I don't need a bread, because your flesh is more than enough.
I kept on coming back for this until your wine poured

Silence came, and we stood up but then you kneeled... I wonder why, but you just look at me with a smile and said "It's my turn now".
Àŧùl Jun 2020
People are dropping dead.

People are dropping dead,
Not many in my town
But in big cities,
They are dying en masse
And the silence is scaring me.

Yet again.

Yet again,
I can hear my own blood
Gushing through my ears,
Silly me, I am scared,
More for my loved ones,
And less for myself.

Will we?

Will we all die soon?
Or shall I survive this?
I hope that if my loved ones die,
I do too.
Because I'm afraid of loneliness,
I have a serious kind of autophobia.


Humanity can't go extinct!
Humanity won't go extinct.
It will soon be alright.
Just wait and watch,
How Vishnu takes care of us,
How Shiva takes out the evil,
How the world will turn for good.
My HP Poem #1861
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2020
Robert Clive.
He was an agent of the Brutish British,
And he brought misery to my Bhaarat.
My HP Poem #1854
©Atul Kaushal
a criminal is a dust of ashes
a criminal ash is a criminal dust of ashes
mass is mass of masses
mass is mass of ashes
ash is ash of ashes
ash is ash of masses
a criminal ash is his ash of ashes

dust to mass,mass to dust
dust to mass,mass to ashes
dust to mass,ashes to ashes
beauty is a mass of beauty
beauty is a mass of ashes
beauty beholds beauty to its ashes
beholder of beauty is beholder of a mass criminal

a criminal is a mass criminal of beauty
a mass criminal is a mass of beauty
a mass criminal is a beauty of ashes
a mass criminal is a dust of dust
dust of dust,ash of ash,beauty of beauty
dust of dust,ash of ash,beauty of ash
dust of dust,ash of ash,mass of mass
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc… this poem is about a mass of beauty is a mass criminal. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
Nat Lipstadt May 2020
if you don’t know by now,
going to early mass is not my thing,
as I am one of those peeps of the tribe
that for your sins, died and then, again, and again

‘bout 6:00am, exchanging messages with
my fellow Indians (nooo, I’m not Indian) poets
on mundane subjects like tradition, grandchildren,
nagging wives, profits, revenues and earnings, expenses
(of that, more later)

now that we are living on the isle-no-elation,
the distractions are numerous though varied,
so I find myself unloading the dishwasher,
chopping, peeling, red, yellow peppers, cucumbers

then to a puzzle I am sent, how to fit in two
big cases of water into a Manhattan-sized
closet which shall we say, with largesse, isn’t
large-esse, comes pre-crammed from urban foraging

which means it’s coffee prep time so more
cleansing of yet another device, which happily
annoys by providing step by step, non-negotiable demands,
what me, just another human pretense machine, must execute

ménage a trois, three poems are pre-forming in
a mind that says concentrate, please don’t slice a fingertip,
but if you must, that romanesque nose, certainly
could use a trimming, if you are so energized & inclined

and it’s Sundae morning and I deliver the coffee,
making the route I’ve been plying for many morn,
this one is black, this one is oat milk, extra hot,
this one is awake, cause she’s giggling at **** emojis

oh yes indeed, a liturgical motet, a prayer to a lord,
I’ve never seen, but who insists on interrupting me,
when the mood is upon him, as if we humans were his own
coffee machine toys, don’t forget to make him herbal tea

and you say this is not a poem, and you whine,
overly long, and I laugh and say please, please,
don’t read it, I’ve got plenty others that garnered
accolades of multiple thousands and love this one better

feeling so holy, feeling so hollywood, my tasks nearly
completed, return to bed, when the nagging begins,
what have I forgotten, ****, my own coffee hides,
in the microwave and by now needs a reheating twice

and while I must off to write of Indian traditions,^
the gains and losses of grandchildren, grandmothers,
a new debate rages, how shall I end this morning-prayer,
I offer myself
three choices,
in a language I speak in the original,
Hallelujah, Amen, and Selah.

Manhattan Island
May 17
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
What would Santa Claus say,
I wonder,
about Jesus returning
to **** and plunder?

For he’ll likely return
on Christmas Day
to blow the bad
little boys away!

When He flashes like lightning
across the skies
and many a homosexual

when the harlots and heretics
are ripped asunder,
what will the Easter Bunny think,
I wonder?

“And I will **** her children with death; and all the churches shall know that I am he which searcheth the reins and hearts: and I will give unto every one of you according to your works.” (So much for grace according to Revelation 2:23, where Jesus, or someone speaking for him, vows to personally ****** children for their mother’s sins!)

Published by Lucid Rhythms, Poet’s Corner and translated into Czech by Vaclav ZJ Pinkava

Keywords/Tags: Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Jesus Christ, Bible, Revelation, mass ******, serial ******, homosexuals, harlots, hookers, prostitutes, heretics, atheists, agnostics, nonbelievers, non-Christians
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