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Nigdaw Jul 28
I'm out here on the periphery
a ghost of a voice
barely heard
except in the extreme
of silent screams
if you listen carefully
you will feel my words
fill my silence
as tears start to fall
desperation creeps
to the top of the hall
by the stairs
to the bridge
dark water below
the rope tightening
before the chair fall
and thoughts of lights out
game over
do not pass go
flicker across a fragile mind
I am out here
on your periphery
I can break your fall
Steve Page Oct 2018
The nice Samaritan meant well
but tended to wait
to hesitate
just long enough
to be too late to make
a real difference
and instead stood
and watched struck dumb
as the world went to ****
in a handcart
There are different classes of Samaritan. Not all are good or timely.
an earlier draft of this barely satisfactory missive ex post facto, i chomped asper with upper dentures upon evincing a couple of typographical errors, in up rye or draft, and did not wanna dodge being a spell bound stickler for typing words correctly.

though no obligation to trot out this fixation sans zero misspelling tolerance, a compulsion with any concomitant obsession found me reposting before a repast of dessert - so there Ghost of Marie Antoinette, wherever you might be hiding - i can have my cake and eat it too!

Minus trimmings and over stuffed ego freezers,
but altruism, civility, Dharma *** ethnocentrism,
gratuitous homogeneous internationalism,
karma mosaic opportunism, quitessential righteousness,
unpretentious vivacious wide world yipping,

brouhaha dutifully emphasizing friendliness,
antithetically booing critical, popularly pugnacious
spoiled trump petting uber western yikyak,
zealous antipathy craving everything.
a hypothetical, mental, rhetorical thought question
   occurred to me just moments ago
sans, milk of human kindness bubbles frothily
   upon major American holiday,

   whereat figurative bro
   thar and sisters exhibit philanthropic ambitions
   especially, towards indigent that crow
for bare necessities

   other than
   when Thanksgiving rolls around, and dough
nuts to dollars even most frugal misanthropes
   play feigned charitable card egoistically glow
with ambient benevolence, civility,
   diligent energy, and friendly hello

and sundry pleasant greetings
   hook hood be some
   soon tubby rich entrepreneurial stranger
   ready to make shares available vis a vis  IPO

   to dirt poor anonymous guarillas G.I. Jane or G.I. Joe
   who cross paths with each other,
   even those one doth not know
when ordinary biases, callousness,

   denigration...doth full low
out the mouths of hoity toity MainLiners
   towards working class people - mow
awe less trying to remain financially afloat,
   and with plea for handout
   would receive an emphatic NO!

Thee exception to unspoken aristocratic rule
   arising on feted buzz
   feed ding occasions where oboe
players invoke cobra to deliver riches galore to the 'po

whom sincerely show gratitutde,
   yet wonder why status quo
reserves select calendrical dates for handouts
   proffered after standing in a row
of similarly bereft individuals aware at stark

   outpouring overt nurture minded, humanity
   (with perchance a guest appearance by Sean Hannity),
this public denouement,
   an atypical venue for his television show

where generosity spills forth
   from said personality and others alike
blithely, demonstrably, fortuitously, happily,
   jubilantly, lovingly, modestly, poignantly,
   where an announcer speaks thru a mike

to open their doors and hearts asper,
   those down and out
   pushing belongings along the pea king pike
of broken tureens with
   only a mangy dog as companionship,

and though I admit tubby hyperbolical,
   hypocritical, hypothetical hypoteneuse of hippopotamus
   no charity less valuable then self and spouse,
   whom both experience spike
in anxiety since net income purportedly
   below the poverty level, though we reside

   within subsidized housing (outliers
   here at 2 Highland Manor Drive),
   yet random acts of an effortless smile,
   cordial greeting to passersby, or
   waving fellow drivers right of way,
Page Number Three:

such minimally polite services today,
the most within my limited monetary hi say
means, which behavior aye strive ray
   dee to maintain zero cost politesse, which doth pay
highest dividends, which reciprocal acknowledge may
be the greatest reward,

   whether or not a response elicited tis quite o kay
the satisfaction arising breeching comfort zone
   viz exposure therapy lighting up gray
matter analogous to a cerebral Christmas tree
   and any regret avoided, asper congenial efforts    
   generate “hi” kickstarts my day.
Steve Page Oct 2016
Samarian oil
Samarian wine
On open Judean wounds
Bound by a Samaritan's hands
Never felt so good,
A salve to the national shame
Burning through the traveler's head.
Luke 10.  A timely reminder of what it is to be a neighbour.  It's not necessarily those you expect who show compassion.
it seems we live in times
when helping hands extend only reluctantly
to those in dire need who had to leave
     the ruins of their devastated homes
     not waiting for more bombs to fall
to those who had to save their lives
     from the barbaric rule of self-styled prophets
and those whose simple love of education
     was met with inane terror and oppression

why is it that so many people
     are afraid of them and think
     these desperate refugees are perpetrators
          not the victims

why is it that the nations most responsible
      for chaos and destruction in these countries
           far from their own safe shores
      are the least willing to accommodate
      those they have driven from their homes

good Samaritans have become scarce
only a few today share their possessions
     with those who are in greater need

our humanity has been outsourced
to NGOs and sundry other institutions
to whom we donate so they feed
the hungry   poor   and the displaced

it makes one wonder whether shameless greed
has indeed  
    and without any saving grace
become the only goal of our race
Back-stabber count your silver coins,
all thirty pieces do enjoy.
For thou have torn it from the ****
of he whom thou deem to destroy.

Conveyed before said holy male
who fears to take decision home.
Responsibility he doth bale,
forth-giving this to man of Rome.

Upon to Pilate do I see.
Should I relinquish my belief?
Will mine own peoples see me free
instead of murderer or thief?

In my defence nought do I speak
to only God do I ask praise.
Forgive me not for thou art week
and power to thee is but a phase.

Upon mine head a crown of thorns
secured firmly into place
as harassed by unfriendly scorn.
Holy blood, bathes holy face.

Barbs of metal scourge my all,
unlawful hurt do I withstand.
Burdened with weight I make a fall.
Samaritan doth lend a hand.

Rods of steel fix flesh and bone
to that of mans' wooden *****.
In painful agony, though not alone,
with Holy Father I connect.

Hoisted aloft on knoll of high.
Visible means to fear their weight.
Drawn upright, that I may die.
Design to clear of human slate.

Soon this pain will free of me.
My passing so that they may live.
Exalted father thou can see
this son gives all a son can give.
First printed in the 2011 Anthology. Suspended in Ink.

— The End —