A
backgammon reservoir
rules
the castle ever-more
for
it was the bishop
that
chose not to address the poor
Stranded
tiles wait in-turn
for
their time of elocution
yet
time grows lost
approaching
vindication
Vacant
properties remain unsold
for
ghosts I’ve heard live within
and
as time does drift, the condemned stir
a
passive voice attending to one’s present sin
Failed
hypotheses draw the man,
upon
a scaffolding’s verbose display,
ill-conceived
choices and unlikely
provocations
impel theory to a swift decay
For
plastic saviors come to show
when
paper ghosts entrench what’s known
Great flow once more at your show. Like the little board game additions too, as plenty of those have been played at my zoo. We can try and figure out things all day but in the end it is what it is most times and we waste tons of time figuring that out, should worry a little less and do a little more, I suppose.
ReplyDeleteinteresting rhyme scheme in this fred switched up as you move along...plastic saviors and paper ghosts, both unreal...esp when the problems pile up and the church itself turns its back on the poor...
ReplyDeleteVery imaginative with wonderful imagery and a solid message.
ReplyDeleteHi Fred--powerful images and phrases. k.
ReplyDeleteThere seems to be stagnation, a waiting, problems that gone on too long simply lingering around, halting any kind of progress.
ReplyDeletePlastic saviors and paper ghosts -- it evokes the images of credit cards and paper money in my head because I seem to see this poem as about the problem of poverty. In which case, plastic saviors would just temporary...