Red for the blood dripping from a vein
White for the sheets that cover the dead
Blue for the visible beyond that is the sky

For every drop of red silk that
Glitters in the sun
One is a step closer to freedom
From the blood that ties us
To its fiery core

For every pure cotton cloth that
Shadows over the deceased
One has risen halfway,
Breaking their ties
With the underground deep below

For every new light
Borne from the dreamy blue sky
One has earned their freedom
From their mundane, mortal body

No longer held down by hunger
No longer held by thirst
No longer needing shelter
No longer needing clothing

Freedom from Earth
Comes in shades of
Red, white, and blue

Thousands poured into the Great Hall
Waiting
In this haunted, empty room
For something to happen

Nobody sat upon the throne
But order still remained
Maybe it was in the fear
That left them silenced

The throne was industrious
All blunt, sharp lines
Of cold, heartless steel
Fogging up as the peoples’ breaths brushed it

No heat in this desolate hall
Only people’s nervous, frantic heartbeats
Echoed through the room
Marking their place as prey

Footsteps followed
Each step
A quick, sudden staccato
Steady with every beat

The people spun around
Looking for the one that approached them
But there was
No one

Anxiety wrecked through the large hall
Rebounding off of the delicate stone arches
Sailing across the cracked, concrete floor
Filling everyone’s bodies with dread

The footsteps stopped
And their leader materialized onto his cold throne
His gaze held no emotion as he crossed his legs, staring at his people--
Who returned his glare with downturned lids

He bore a crown of silver
Glittering with the madness
Atop a thick forest of black hair
That you could get lost in

His eyes were a dark stormy blue
Appraising his guests
His people
That lay scattered across the hall

A slender frame
Overshadowed by a black velvet cape
And a white collared shirt
Pure of the injuries that he had wronged others

Form fitting grey pants slung tightly over his hips
Along with a matte hand pistol
Further accentuated by his knee high leather boots
That shined with the sweat of a thousand shoe polishers

He was their dictator
They were his people
With a snap
They rose to meet his commands

Without him, they were nothing

He called for disease
Infection spread rampant
the sick fell at his feet

He called for war
The clanging of swords broke out
And wet, hot blood began to coat the slick ground

He called for famine
Hunger gnawed away at the empty, acidic stomachs of the starved
Many fell, glazed eyes betraying their desire for food

He called for death
And suddenly the survivors fell
Only a hundred of the thousand had been left
To die at his feet

The hall was empty of all souls
But one
His

He commanded all that his people could give
And left with nothing to bear
But a single throne
Of cold steel
And an bare skyscraper
With a single, Great Hall

i have this jacket of yours

weathered and worn

from those memories we shared

from your life before mine



a reminder of

the winds of fall

leaves fluttering down

in a cascade of withering color



a reminder of

the snow days

where the light flakes melted on your tongue

on this jacket



a reminder of the spring

with hail punctuated with sun

nature tormenting us

with her turbulent emotions



a reminder of

the blazing heat that tore

through the atmosphere

burning everyone, including the jacket off your back



and lastly,

the jacket holds you

what remains of you

in its stretched seams,

broken zippers,

and empty pockets

in this jacket holds-

my love for you

The trees swayed with the wind
Casting a dynamic shadow upon the piles of leaves around it
Autumn washed over us
Bringing the chills of windy hours
Clouding over the sun in the early hours of dawn
Raining down on us with the mourning of summer
Fall marks the death of life
And begins the long slumber of winter

Wealth drips from the fingertips of the rich
They languish in the materialism of the good life
Living out heaven on earth

The rumble of an empty stomach echoes through an alley
***** and homeless, people crawl to their tents
living to starve another day

Flashing lights brighten their already made faces
As they step carefully out of the limousine
Greeting the crowd with a wave, they enter through double doors
Ready to make a dramatic entrance

They sneak a sandwich through their ratty sleeve
As they wander through the convenience store
Desiring the things they cannot purchase
Alarms ring in their arrest

Bubbling champagne fills them with giddiness
Socializing with the friends that stick around for the money
The wealth that you have
And that they want

Waiting for your release
From this empty, pitiful cell
They stare at the wall,
Marked with the days until release into a life worse than before

As they head home, you realize
Is this a life worth living?
With fake friendships
And worthless objects surrounding you

As they uncuff you, you realize
Is this a life worth living?
With poverty at every open door
And no future to look forward to?

They both rush to the brooklyn bridge
Poised for the rush of bone-chilling water to fill their lungs
But as they look out at the city
The bright lights spell out:
The system is broken