september has become
the cruelest month

reassembled
hollywood disasters
at their worst
flipped into reality

as if
   we had needed that
as if
   we had not known
      that life is fragile
      and tall buildings
      can collapse
   taking thousands
   to sudden death

what is the point?

to prove
   that one can bring
   disaster
   to the undefended?

to demonstrate
   that minds bent
   on destruction
   can succeed
   if they plan long enough?

what a waste
   of lives and minds...
and more to follow
most likely

does wordless violence
solve anything?

the heartless deed
the glamorous sacrifice
that calls for more
   and more
and more
neurotic spirals
of destruction, retaliation
and revenge
instead of global peace
now looms spectral war
born from self-righteous pride
the need to strike out
   fast and hard
against whoever fits
intelligence-created data
transferred to screens
   meticulously marked
coolly oblivious of the people
   who work and procreate
         and live
   in those fluorescent blips

domesticated energy
serves the omnipotent
   two millionaires’ sons
   turned public enemies
upon whose final global showdown
depends
the fate of yet more
   women
        men
           and children
to satisfy the need
for a just universe
where power flows
    undisturbed by laughter
   and the sounds
   of real people
        living
   in a real world

The serpentine
Hissed wit
Whip keen,
Quick as mean,
Flicked tongue
At open sores.
He fancied himself clever;
Surveyed with
Cold red eyes,
Called no one
His better:
This Master of deception.
Others never
Felt the lash,
The cat-tailed snap
Of lips that cracked
A child's
Self-perception.

On the train to Haifa
I think about my father
in wartime Palestine,
a different time, a different name
but the same place.

His memories of oranges and beaches
and warm, Mediterranean swimming
are the times he chose to rescue
from the six years when the world
was drowning in its own blood.

The weather is blue and grey
but the sun shines
like my father’s medals
on his blue-grey air force uniform
that entranced me as a child.

As the helicopter gunships prowl over Mount Carmel,
speeding north to Lebanon,
I wonder what times I will choose to rescue
from a land built out of longing,
but paid for in blood.

The road is straight,
No curves, nothing is bent;
I only see what’s right in front of me.
Faster than sound,
I whistle the air;
Not a speck in my eyes,
I’m head to head with my demise.
Broke loose, now things are right;
I’m enjoying this, I’m sitting tight.
Nothing on my back is tied,
I’m on my final ride.
I grab my throttle hard,
the wind runs by my face.
I smell that…
That concrete set me free.
This is the moment that I seize;
I feel lika a guy
in late Alzheimer’s disease.
Nothing can save me now…
Salvation is not what I need;
I need to no more need a need.
Just let me fly in these last seconds of mine.
From the time I got in that womb,
this was the plan for me.
I was born, even then life was late for me;
I guess you can call that, destiny.
I smile now, knowing that
my legacy will not have the same destiny.
Live on my boys…
You make sense in all there is.
Dear ones I love,
both dead and alive;
See me now,
this is the way I want to go out.
I’m a free bird,
with black I am bred.
Devil, hear me;
I hope you are the one to greet me.
I wear it all,
All those shadows of misty past;
But I also wear,
warmth of pure future hope.
Truckman, don’t be afraid…
I’m sorry I’ll spoil your truck,
with my red cold blood.
You sirens back there,
thank you guys for singing.
I know you won’t get it,
but thank you for making me king.
Ahh…
Spread-wing raven, it flies over me.
You dear raven..
You are the last sight I see.
I’ll fly with you.
I spread out my arms,
I stand on my Harley;
“Get the beer ready,
Martin Luther, Pericles and Marley…”
What a sight to behold;
Those black wings amidst the sun.
Nothing can stop me now;
I am most filled with life.
I was the reaper most of the time,
but now I finished the line.
The scythe is on me,
it’s me who I reap last.
Welcome Mr.Mayhem…
Spread-wing raven, splat down on the ground.
My guts are all over around.
Now I finally caught up,
the end of my road.

I want to know you
As I try
When you are happy tell me?
When you are sad let me know?
When you are down tell me so?
Distance is only a keyboard away
For you to let me know
What you think
And what you feel
Words can say
Words can express
Then use it
And use it as you will

I wear your likeness
Like a scapular
Around my neck.
Your mannerisms
Complete my mosaic.

From behind, we look
Like Jews' harps
Standing with
Hands hanging by
Thumbs in  pants pockets.
These familiar traits
Trickle down and sprout
Anew,
Like Granda, I hear.

Seeing you, one would think
Great thoughts fill your head,
As you stare
At the ***** garden.

My sibs **** their heads
And tsk too,  running
Their hands from front
To back
Through thick black hair.
I recoil at the drops of sweat
Falling from the tips of their
Noses.

Sarcasm drips like venom
From your words.
The cost of a glass of water,
Or a phone call,
Always
Had my friends laugh,
Nervously.
They never knew how
To take you.
I was surprised
By your grudging
Facade when help
Was asked.

I enjoyed your silence.
Even now,
As entropy
Has its way
With my garden.

You thought he was just a game
Using him like he was a tool.

Believed you were smarter then him
But have only showed yourself a fool.

He loved you dearly because you birthed them
Always protecting you as if you were a precious gem.

Now that you are gone and his eyes are wide open
No longer he'll allow them used as monopoly tokens.

To love someone truly, is not to play juvenile games
Abusing genuine hearts will ultimately boomerang.

Now it is you who is scared, spilling lie after lie,
Instead of accepting fault, wolf is what you cry.

When things do not work out the way that you hope
It will be you who is the one struggling to stay afloat.

                     Lopez ©reationz 2014