Half an egg, a chicken thigh,
And a tower of noodles
soaring high to a pair of chopsticks
floating in the air,
The entire mix graced with a green garnish,
All if it fake and covered in varnish.

---by Brian Jobe, author of "Bird's Nest In Your Hair"

Death arrived on a plane,
Eager for lovers,
Hungry for converts.
The Emerald Lady cowers in fear,
Empty and silent, her night creatures hidden in shadow, her daytime a wasteland,
Everyone waits for the signal.

Maybe the idea has had its day
And the names associated with it have been evoked to the point of meaningless boredom,
But when the dead leaves are blown away from the headstone,
And the bones taken out and put under the microscope once more,
It isn't too far-fetched to have collective remembrance of the heart-stopping sounds of heavy booted feet marching in perfect, demonic unison,
The faceless faces of cruel men watching the crowd with expressions devoid of mercy and compassion.,
And ourselves blood-red mad , raw-throated from the shouts and screams of hatred of the other,
We can only wonder
at the possibility of our inner darknesses rising up to consume and drown the souls of those around us in an excess of misguided vengeance,
Our humanity and tolerance destroyed by the pops of the first bullets.

We must never come this way again.

The stars have gone out and I look at the distant shore hoping for some sort of crazy meaningless distraction to push me away from your sapphires and mouth smiling wide I want to float into the stratosphere and forget you went dark and I was both dammed and ****** trying to crawl out from under the wet blanket of your silences onto dry land I will always want you poison sweet and tempting like the flower Persephone knew she shouldn't pick but did anyway like the pomegranate she ate that bound her forever.
I am unsouled.
I am unsouled.

Hope shook out her moonlit skirts and bent to whisper in my ear,
"Yes, you can wish upon that star
and dare to chase your dreams."
As usual, Hope proved elusive
and stranded me in the
Desert of Illusion,
Forever chasing the fleeing rainbow
With nothing more than a chipped magnifier
And a wallet full of tears.

"Lady Liberty must die," the Orange King mused,
"Public opinion is not how I got this job.
My fame must be locked in,
A surefire certainty,
My praises sung for generations to come".
He sat up straighter on his gold-plated throne and
Imperiously called for the bards.
"Make it known in the kingdom", he intoned with a frown,
"That Liberty has repeatedly lied.
She's quite fake, in fact she's a bore,
Outdated and certainly no style!"
A bard raised his hand,"Sir, I will do as you ask,
Your greatness is apparent to all,
You can rest quite content
By the time I am done
Lady Liberty will be comatose!"
And it happened to pass all over the land,
Posters placed where the public would see,
Liberty's depravity laid bare,
(She hated the Orange King),
She must pay for her
outrageous crimes.
Many were horrified
But some people cheered,
The Orange King was free at last,
With Lady Liberty gone,
A new day would dawn,
"It is time to recover our past".

Protests everywhere
Nations going up in flames
Justice needed NOW.

If only I could
turn my thoughts
into a squadron of paper airplanes and
fly them without care
from the rooftop of my imagination...

Orange Nero tweets
Threatens using vicious dogs
Liberty's lamp dims.

A knee across the neck
It only took nine minutes
" I can't breathe", he gasped...

Some people refuse to die
Even though they're given every opportunity
How many times have you staked him now?
And still.. his will is sure

Sometimes I think you might be a child of the ******
But you're  probably just a ****** child
The longer I know you, the more I hate your dad...