Hamlet, sharpen your sword of trust, for Macbeth is surely waiting.

The specter of ‘Civil war’ stalks the land and the ghosts of senseless violence, so long docile, have come to hollow-eyed attention.

Our cauldron was filled with innocence, as the ever-thirsty succubi require, the glory of war is being shaken, not stirred and the betrayal will be served as quick and cold as steel.

#chefskiss

Thoughts that drift off into thoughtless.
Thoughtless,
I'm lost to the the darkness

I have no feeling
Deaf, blind, mute, tasteless seething

I'm lost, but I'm believing
Believing?
Oh yes, I'm still believing in you.

i cannot comprehend this
what makes sense is senseless
this senselessness is endless
so in the end i comprehend
enough to play pretend
but common sense tells me
that wars create sores
that are more or less forever
i cannot comprehend this letter
so i better carry on with this
senselessness which is endless
unless perhaps i end this my self

Never
Finished

Never
Done

Always

                             Pa         t
                                    r               l
                                              ia

The front door was open
They walked in
Gunning down the residence
One by one
Loosening their grip on the world
Drifting out of consciousness
They lost a lot of blood

I thought I made a promise
But I guess no promise is kept
Not anymore

They said I could do anything
Well
What about nothing?


- Jay M
May 21st, 2019

Weapons primed and ready;
Round the troops, sound the sirens.
Snipers, hold your rifle steady
for the battle of the irons.

Pride and Hatred take a stance.
Violence crouches - taking aim.
Never takes a second glance
before he fires across the plane.

She lies helpless in the street.
Shot down in violent fashion.
Pleading peace in her defeat.
The victim's name is Compassion.

This poem was written in response to the senseless slaying of Kayla Chapman, a local convenience store clerk in Kelso WA who was brutally gunned down after complying with robbers requests for money and cigarettes. She was such a neat person.

A slight streak of purple,
A smile like a flower,
A warm friendly voice, In a late midnight hour,
You added so much, to our own little hood,
You brightened our nights, and made us feel good.
Now you're not here, I cannot believe,
Your bright light's been stolen,
For that we all grieve.

We won't let this stop,
We won't let this rest,
Till all those responsible, are put to the test.
Your life wasn't meaningless,
Your life was so dear,
A smile on a dark night, A welcoming ear.
I give you this poem
, from my heart, through my tears,
I'll never forget you Through all of the years.
God bless you Kayla Chapman, you touched my heart

Spawn of dying stars
Scattered sentient stardust
Stripped of sensation

~j.l.