90: the days

The hours spent
The money spent
The days spent by and by
Another step to climb upon,
another fall to recollect.
Those weeks spent
Those months spent
Those people spent, sit by the curb
awaiting calls that never come as arrogant cars go whizzing by.

The sky greys and darkens with a claustrophobic atmosphere -
Closing in, on us below, us walking on the paved cement
So stable and secure,
How we stroll along so languidly
While the darkness below, ignored and forgotten,
ceases to gain the least of our interest.
We'd rather forget it: the true nature of things,
Of life, of death, of tragedy.

89: All Good Naysayers (An Approach to the New)

Hear the spin of voices here –
Murmured understanding
in the veil of open-mindedness,
attention poorly lacking.
All good leaders learn the language
Blasting lies amongst the truths
As we struggle in our distance,
standing still in statues’ shoes.

How bold the headlines
read themselves
in self-effacing glory;
bound by others,
these pages smell of
ink and fake integrity.
They spill onto my fingers
in a charcoal-covered sin.

There’s the dream – catch it!
Then drown it in a winding river of
endorsement-allied figures;
Ebbs and flows around the circuit streams of choice
and all good naysayers.

Tired are we of our legendary
Epic golden status:
Fool’s Gold is what
we mine from minds and
seek further detachment.

Here the fear’s latched on to them,
Burning pedestals of men
who’ve wrapped their words behind their lips
and kept us captive in normality.

Glass eyes and false limbs,
Bliss is written on our eyelids.