The Masthead

Label me an infant

label me a fool

do not trust the anarchist

preaching about rules

label me a scapegoat

label me a tool

do not dam the floodgates

lest inside they form a pool

label me a train-wreck

label me as blind

its good to poke holes in theory

so truth can breathe in time

call me what you like

call me what you don’t

it doesn’t matter to me;

I’ve learned to laugh at all your jokes

labels are scattered; they’re thrown around

labels are but words; always lost, but never found

they have no bearing; they play no role

in who I am, to what I do

they have no influence; they have not a say

as to what fate finds in store for me

your words fall deaf, meaningless and weak

never providing the satisfaction that you seek

your words bring pain to others, highlighting their many scars

but you should be reflecting, as to where the damage starts

your words are but a mere transference

of what you’ve been and where and who you are

sticks and stones…if it appeases you…

just know…that for each judgment cast

I’ll shed a tear in prayer for you—

Forever using those labels as my mast

Be sure to head on over to D'verse for Open Link Night.  The doors open up in just a few short minutes. Starting at 3pm the poetry is always fresh on tap. And while you're there, share a poem of your own. Cheers. 

An Examination of Art

Apt in the art of circumlocution

I’ve often heralded

Expansion by design

Lest the linchpin rears its head

Hinging

To cling upon

That isolated entity that now beholds

All balance in its grip

And I fear

The claque shall rise,

Those prostitutes of cheer—

         Will cherish any and all

                  That the coin does for call

Or will they simply snub their nose

And condemn me, a hieratic in disguise?

Verdict A-Pox-Be

Steel charisma broken free

Congregate amongst

A gaggling of sums

If hope concludes prior to verdict,

Does eternity rest entirely?

Upon such darkened days,

 A judge, man, pretender, garbed in silk—

 Unveils judgments, predicated by mortal law,

As spoken by a chorus of peers

Crowds, the stimulus deprived, crash-watchers

Merge with the anti, all in the name of show

Beneath the guise of justice,

Saunter stands in arrival formation,

Gathering amongst their sects,

There, at such time,

Outside the courthouse—

Beneath its steps,

Chants spew forth—

And the names of the devoutly fallen,

Echo, well prior to any announcement

or final rendering, promoting the semblance

of relation, where deities easily strike a similarity of fear through

Transformation as evinced from bolts flung from clouded cover

In such episodes of regression,

Fate appears predetermined,

Perhaps a cyclicality of prophecy

Shall flood the mental indices

So easily man casts man

Under condemnable outlines

Skirts of what once Is

The color of blood stirring under flesh

Means nothing

The accuracy of ruling is secondary

To the corralling of public sentiment

For the face of the betrayed

Shall eventually watch his last hours dwindle past

Shall eventually see that last mile strolled

Until the color of blood stirring under flesh

Mingles with serum made by flesh

Thus ending any visual reminder

Of the judgments we once crawled begging for

Justice and her scales

May as well reconstruct the garden labyrinth

I’d assume the beast found there

Will lend much more just an ear

Absolutely Non-Absolute

Curveballs are life’s way of showing us

That we may be intelligent,

Yet in the grand schematics we don’t know much,

We live in absolutes, with directions built on preconception,

Steeped in definitions we’ve created

Judgments born through speculation

Producing labels on false interpretation,

We may think we have the answers

But the answers we may have

Are conditional to the question

That has come before,

That which stands before us,

In this moment,

 May have similarities with,

Previous experience and learned notion,

However, this moment is this moment and nothing more,

There are no absolutes or predispositions,

None which correctly configure to every situation,

All there is, all there ever will be, is the here and now,

Alive and living, a unique embodiment,

With an ever changing definition