Wednesday, August 15, 2012

A forgetful goodness

Sisters and brothers
come near
witness the birth of
the new Right
the new Good
the new Morality
the brightly colored prism
of a new reality
a new judgementalism
fearful of debate
afraid of
the disagreeable
Proclaimers of reason
doubters of dissidence

A new society
formed in ideal looking forward
forgetting the past
looking on it with the regret of a long 
night and wobbly morning

Once again
drunk on the idea of a new way
filling up 
chugging and chugging
the rhetoric of a confused
pantheistic 
athiestic
but deeply religious society
worshipping many more idols
than the Athenians at Mars Hill

Philosophers 
Epicureans
Stoics
Endlessly streaming consciousness in public forums 
spewing thoughts on each other
until something sticks

This new era is perfect in its own way
moving together as one
gaining momentum
like the Facists in the 30's
we are swept off our feet
by the inherit rightness of our leaders words
Impressed by the prosperity of our minds
blown away by our potential
always thinking forward
never dwelling on any moment for 
very long

This new society has a strong hand
which sweeps swiftly
removing the inharmonious chorus
trimming and pruning
with impunity
unsure of what we are creating
but striving for it

For the ultimate end
for that perfect sunset
for that long night
for that wobbly morning
and for the long nap and medicine that follows

A perfect people
standing on the imperfect lattice 
of old
While the vine of a new morality continues to creep
twisting and branching
like wild ivy
unsure of where it started
covering up 
what doesn't belong.

Monday, August 06, 2012

Roots to china

The tree stump in the desert
has no purpose
but to turn to stone
some day

It's life is over
no longer able to grow
or hope for something better
it mearly sits
decapitated
while the sun bakes it's heart 

And a sun baked heart
is the hardest kind
because
it feels heat and longs for water
but cannot see the day
for which the floods might return

And just like a dead 
petrifying tree stump
I have no mobility
and feel the pressure of 
a life now wasting
in the sun

A once promising life
beaten down
by God's life giving rays
because I am not in a position 
to accept them

No leaves
no branches
no families of birds and bugs 
no rich
cool
dark soil

the kind you would dig your fingernails into
when you were a kid
and you had an idea of what 
life would be like 
and you wrenched your fingers through the dirt
searching for China
and worms
and other things
that made being a child

so much better than now