Forget the school children
of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Or the 1,000,000 dead in Vietnam;
60,000 dead in Iraq;
30,000 and rising in Afghanistan.

How many by our proxies
in El Salvador, Nicaragua,
Guatemala, Chile?

Forget the millions dead
in nameless civil wars
or of preventable
poverty and disease
in various hell-holes
around the globe.

The rest of the world
may be sorry,
but not shocked:
they have come to know
the smiling murderers
we have become.

20 dead of madness
in Connecticut
and the US wallows
in drivel, kitsch,
hollow words,
self-pity, and
media frenzy.

A little arrogance here?

Oh, we love our kids,
(just no one else's),
so let's put black ribbons
on our cars
and call that enough.

Again, the culture
of selfishness, greed,
shallowness
and patriotic stupidity
rears its
predictable head.

No country that murders
the world's children
with a shrug
should be surprised
when that violence
turns inward.

"I am Vishnu
Destroyer of worlds
My name is Death"

You can't have it
both ways.

"We must love one another
or die."

   mce

You came to my door crying

Sadness masking your usual grace.

Tears rolling down your cheeks,

Mascara running down your face.

Your long dark hair was wild

Your once glittering eyes were bleak.

Into my willing arms you fell,

Afraid, alone and weak.

I clutched you tightly to my chest

And you rested your face against my heart.

You cried for what seemed like hours.

before you pulled yourself apart.

You stared at me with beautiful eyes

Green with the whites so red.

You asked to go inside.

You wanted to talk, you said.

We walked into the lounge room,

I went to make us some tea.

Returning with the drinks I saw

Your face buried in your knees.

I placed a mug in front of you.

You looked at me and smiled.

You quietly said your thanks

and we sipped in silence a while.

With mug empty, and tears dried, you spoke.

Your voice was soft and meek.

You told me of your partners facade;

Loving and affectionate, belying a violent streak.

You recounted how he abused you;

treated you like a punching bag.

How he hit you in places no-one could see

And how he liked to brag.g

You showed me the marks he left behind

The welts and bruises black and blue.

I sat quietly, as you told your tale;

As my anger boiled and grew.

He must be less of a man, I thought

Just a sack of bones and meat.

To harm something so innocent and pure,

So beautiful and sweet.

Your voice break off abruptly

and so again began the tears.

You told me that you hated life.

That you constantly lived in fear.

You told me about his problems.

That he only loved the *****.

You said he was a mean drunk

and his carefree attitude was nothing but a ruse.

You listed off the names he called you

and how they hurt you to the core.

You said the physical torture was painful

but the psychological abuse hurt more.

You said it had gone on for months

and you hadn’t told a soul.

That you only came to me today

Because it finally took it’s toll.

You told me you wanted it to end.

Said that life was for the fool.

You expressed your disappointment

that life had to be so cruel.

You admitted you wanted an out

To finally have some peace.

You tied a rope around your neck

and wanted the pain to cease.

You sat there for a while

Hesitant to take the final leap.

You contemplated the repercussions

of meeting with eternal sleep.

You looked at me through bleary eyes

and told me the asnwer was in your head.

Suicide was selfish you proclaimed.

The solution is talking instead.

You came to me first, you admitted

because I was the one you trusted above all.

You also noted I’d been there

and knew what is was like to fall.

But I was an inspiration.

You took courage from seeing me free.

You found it gave you the strength

To be the person you wanted to be.

I was left speechless

taken aback you felt this way.

Finally I spoke for the first time.

Asking if you needed a place to stay.

You admitted you wanted out of there,

and a hotel you dialled on your phone.

I hung up the phone on you

offering my guest bedroom as your own.

You started crying again,

and thanked me for everything.

I shook my head, and smiled

and responded friends wore more precious than a diamond ring.

I said the room was yours.

On the condition you called the police.

That he couldn’t get away with it,

and then would you finally had the peace.

You agreed to the condition

Told the local station your tale.

They brought your partner up on several charges

And hauled him off to jail.

You settled in with me quickly.

Your old self quickly shone bright.

You said you were a lot happier here

and the sparkle returned to your eyes.

You said this was the happiest you’d been

for almost a year or more.

You asked me if life would return

to what it was before.

I replied in the negative.

And told you it would never be the same.

That you came out stronger then before.

And in you burned a stronger flame.

I said what you went through

Made you the person you are today.

The one who is happy and smiling

and the one who never sways.

I asked you if it was all worth it

knowing this was how the story ends.

You said it was all worth it because you know

what it means to truly have a best friend.

One who was there for you in times of laughter

but also through the tears and pain.

You said if I was there beside you

Then your life wasn’t lived in vain.

The value of friendship

is not something something we can measure.

In times of great turbulence

They are truly hidden treasure.

So if you feel alone in the dark

and that you are lost and all alone.

Do not fret,and don’t despair.

Because good friends will help you find home.

If you’re having trouble

Open up to a friend.

They might be the one to save you

From the darkness in the end.

You ask me what it takes to have fallen from belief
that words aren't enough to know
what love is.

All it takes
is the feeling of being held to the ground by your roots,
metaphorically and literally.
Sometimes I still feel bruises
that are no longer underneath my hair
and sometimes
I think my ancestral veins are laced
and patted dry for the viewing of our friends.
I remember wishing the wood would hit my skull
just a little harder
that my memories might sink between the cracks
like a spilled cup of orange juice
and maybe then I could forgive you
for things you “didn’t” do
and forget
that I was born with poison already mixed into my veins.
Maybe then your screaming
would be aimed and pierced
into another stranger’s eyes.
Maybe,
but probably not.

We all want to believe that love
comes automatically with shared blood,

     that your parents thought twice and more
     about what they made you for.
          Maybe,
          but probably not.

“Stop, please stop”
She begged as she cried hard and loud
“Let me be and let me go”
You slapped her mouth and strangled her

You have turned into the monster
From the stories your friends once told you
Who are you?
I don’t think that I still know you

Bruises and scratch marks
Evidence of a painful night
All you wanted was for her to understand
That she's wrong and you're right

You have settled on letting her go
“Please don’t leave me, don’t go”
Her cries were louder than before
You stayed, but knowing that you cannot love her anymore

Walking down the alleyways I follow you home.
Smoking a cigarette, the ember burning as fierce as my intentions.
Smooth smoke, clearing my head.
If it weren't for the clarity you'd already be dead.

A predator turned prey, you should have never gone astray.
Because I'm in the business of killing and today is your day.

Things get exciting, my heart starts to race.
Closing the gap between us, increasing my pace.
I pull the knife from my coat.
Grab your greasy hair in my fist and I swiftly slit your throat.
A river of blood sprays across the street.
Your life now taken, my vengeance is complete.

She were like a hound
Which to a post of its choice was bound
In her hands lay tatters of shame
'Cause it wasn't for love but fame
She married, and hers were blames
With each piece of her eaten in flames
He was an epitome of calm
Honestly, he had no sign of harm
And obviously life wasn't meant to be hard
Counting on the floods of wealth he had
Who could tell that with passage of years
The price tag was being reduced to tears?
That it practically wasn't only wealth
That mattered, and her poor health
From constantly being battered
Made her feel entirely shattered
One found innocent and sweet
And left a ****** *******
Only deserving his stinking spit
She was a drum constantly hit
As if the price for the posh cars
Were wounds deep enough to leave scars
Being reduced to a little mouse
As rent for the big for nothing house
She dared to think she'd manage the cross
Ignoring that even in bed he was devil gross
None could blame her for leaving
Especially after realizing she'd tried hard
believing
Some thought her best wasn't good enough
Truth is life with the star was awfully rough

~ short ode to PTSD

Though capable of rage,
I am harmless enough
except when cornered.

If you decide
to visit my life,
just be sure
we always sit
in a circle.
   - mce

She tells me how much she hates when I run off like this.
I can barely hear her words, mind racing, as my hand grips the blade in my fist.

She will never understand the language of vengeance and fury.
Leaping out of the window I hit the streets in a hurry.

A conscious man would gather his thoughts and plan first.
But I'm drifting in a dream of retribution and bloodthirst.

Drunk caresses, drunken skin,
Drinking in wanton pleasures;
Blood with fever drink on.

Voice island too far to hear-

Hands throw me down,
Take what is mine,  
Then stumble away.