"preclusion" poems
Every era that has ever been
Has engaged in the auto-dissection
Of their yellowing underbellys.
Yes, every generation has predicted
that the end is nigh,
That god is on their side;
But the devil has a crowbar
And is busting out of the basement.
Each decade is a mimicry of the last.
Different fashions, same trends
And always, with a fool on the hill.
A lonely steel harmonica can pierce the airwaves
Across space and time,
Through the grooves and crackles
To enthral an audience,
And to beguile that every generation
Into believing in their autonomy,
Their solitude,
With a fate independent of all those centuries past.
Through every disembodied spew of Dylan lyrics,
Or the corporeal and common alienation
Sympathised in every Wilde reference,
Comes the same fury at the chaos of a world
That is no more than indifferent at the plight of the people it houses.
Indeed,
Every generation has sought to either
Cure the ills of the Earth;
Or else set lighter fluid to the lot.
This stretches back to the first blood-spattered edition of the Bible,
And further, much further.
To all of the captains,
The heroes,
The anti-heroes,
The road gritter,
The malevolent dictator,
The schoolteacher,
The emancipated woman
And the borderline feminist.
To every young child who is reluctant to take the spotlight,
Or look you in the eye,
Ask questions, or speak out.
For every one of those who at some point were labelled
‘maladjusted’.
And so the Pharaohs and Caesars are all but gone now,
Replaced by the big-wigs,
The fat-cats,
The purple hearted,
The playboys -
The men in suits.
But they are all the same.
The same behind the decadence of
A solid gold sarcophagus
Or an Armani pair of shades.
They all built their empire on shifting sands.
And so we will all kick and scream
To our own tone and our own time
At the indignity of the world.
At our bespoke knowledge
To deal with all inconvenience
But that which privates the preclusion
Of any and all major slaughters of justice.
As for that young child,
With the lack of eye contact -
And all that he will become:
He will sit. And he will type.
He will type until his words fall beyond that
Of the spiralling noises inside his mind
And blossom into something pure and ugly and beautiful.
He will sit and he will write
To forget.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 8:21 PM UTC
I put on Harvest Moon
Neil Young wraps me in his arms
The music makes me swoon
Dulls out the loud alarms
Breathe in
I am in a valley beneath one tree
The earth hugs me with grass
Wind calls to address me
"This all shall pass"
Breathe out
My tears pitter patter like rain drops
Soaking my memories with confusion
Every fact hurls through mid air and stops
This rainstorm had no preclusion
Breathe in
Imagining us far apart in separate whens
Both living- saying adieu
"I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you"
Breathe out
No matter the shatter, I must keep trying
Give me the power to overcome
I can stop myself from internally dying
And bring back what isn't numb
Breathe in
Listen to my somber melody
Connect with my bitter bones
Appreciate my new identity
Walk with me into the unknown
I'm not the same person you knew
Take me in your arms- would you?
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
I'm still trying and crying
Feeling like I'm dying
Stop lying,
I'm not buying
I'm not relying on what your supplying
Keep denying what your implying
All this prying and spying
Leaves me sighing
I'm no longer complying
No more trying
I'm done crying
Your going down,
make you drown
Lose the frown,
talk of the town
Drop the crown
Actin like a clown,
showdown
Got pushed down,
shot down
Put down,
knocked down
Left laying on the ground
But I'm coming around
In preclusion to the confusion
I've come to a conclusion
I'm not losin this illusion
Tired of your aggression
I'm left in seclusion
It's a transition,
a new resolution
It's not confusin
I'm winning this aggravation
Just
Some
Food
For
Thought
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
grey cold like
sparsed cotton
thickness
of blank walls
preclusion
exclusion
the era before
your smile
the glaciers
are forming
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:20 AM UTC
on the drive home i
spotted an absurd billboard broadcasting
a benign worldview an asinine
sign espousing a single word meant
to inspire endless iterations of hope and
worship in one bisyllabic phrase
believe.
it had a period
at the conclusion
as if this was
the end all and be all
a sycophantic
intonation that insinuated
pseudo-religious proclamations
independent of rational
thought and evidence
a foregone preclusion
to excluding others
on the condition that
they didn't share the
exact same faith
ironically
the billboard advertised a
multi-million dollar company
Morgan & Morgan
a law firm masquerading
beneath the pretentious
pretense of their slogan
For The People
as if they were god's gift
to the city of Orlando
but if they were truly devoted
to the precepts of Jesus i dare say
they'd spend less time gloating
and more time defending the poor
'cause when you're making thousands
of dollars an hour on someone else's
pain and misfortune i somehow wager
the radical rabbi who entered Jerusalem on a
donkey would have a thing or two to say
what would the world
look like if the people
who call themselves Christ-followers
quit spewing sermons on billboards
and focused instead
on their savior's
greatest commandment
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
Preclusion of Choice
is **** of Free Will.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
It is self-preclusive
to find excuses
to ignore opportunitiy.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
I spent today in tears and anguish, grieving for the night
Crying for the dreams that I have left there in my flight
Running from those thoughts that I have witnessed, second sight
I cannot now escape, although I try with all my might
I know that with the sun, that I must bid my dreams adieu
Now unrecalled in memory, this translunary view
To leave therein dementia.. felicity askew
I wonder, could my incubus derive from thoughts of you
The morning finds me quite disturbed, normality withdrawn
Each evening sees me back again the dreams go on.. and on
Unable to however, see enigma denouement
These cherubs in the darkness, come as demons with the dawn
It leaves me to myself, and to my tears when I’m awake
Could it be that only in the night, my hope opaque?
If so then I must question, if I sleep what is at stake
I cannot comprehend uncounted reasons.. that I shake
My children come inside to smiles and laughter on their day
Then back outside beneath the blue umbrella sky, to play
Their innocence, once again will serve to so allay
These bitter tears unnoticed, as I wipe each one away
Photographs stare back at me, to further my confusion
At times they seem to speak to me, an optical illusion
But, if I should remove them, could it cause sorrows preclusion?
And so prevent these dreams, and offer love some restitution
And so repay a debt or two incurred there in the night
Relieving some small portion of the pain I here, recite
Reveal to me within my dreams, that shining silver light
Then and only then perhaps, my love and I..
shall reunite
But til then I guess I am a victim, set upon
By what my mind has shown me, and by what will carry on
And hope my dreams release me in the morning, to be gone
For angels in the dead of night are demons..
with the dawn.
Dean Evans
9-30-14
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
To consciously decide
not to even try
is to opt for the preclusion
of possible success.
That is to say,
such a strategy
is a sure way to fail.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
Smoke and mirrors
An extreme illusion
Designed to implement and maintain confusion
So ingrained that it needn't be overt-
Only an allusion
See, there are forces in collusion
Your destiny? Your purpose?
They have designs to stop dat...murk dat...block dat- a preclusion
Smoke and Mirrors
Are designed specifically to keep dat *** in check
Smoke and Mirrors know what you don't
We are infinite and powerful- we've had an infusion
Of The Almighty's essence
And when we realize this, our beings and our destinies will be in collusion
With this fact
It is inevitable
The strength knowledge, and power diffuses the delusion
Of good ole ordinary lives
Of good ole ordinary lies-
That this is all there is and
This is all I'm meant to be
Lies meant to guarantee your seclusion
From all of the infinite possibilities
To keep you from being and becoming The Elite
To guarantee your seclusion
From your birthright
You are an heir of eternity!
So don't welcome the inclusion
Of ******** realities
Accept and receive a transfusion
Of divine intelligence
MORE THAN A CONQUEROR!
Reject the Smoke and Mirrors
~K!co!
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 10:08 PM UTC