Chaos

The Hope of Poetry

Most poems tell of ideals
Of hopes, of dreams, of love
This poem will stray
Just a bit

Blood dripping
Onto the congealing ooze
Left behind
By seven scores
Of maggots

An infant wallows
In the morass
That is her legacy
Life in her mother’s chains

The heat blows too hot
Then it doesn’t blow at all
Living in extremes
The heights of loss

Life is unrecognizable
Eons and light years
From the hope of poems
From the glory of life

Anatomy of a Terrorist

Insane tricklings
Of a mind, too long, alone
Drip, dripping
Cold drops falling to a steel sink

The water gathers
It pools as the blood
Feeding the thoughts
Of vengeance

Rational minds
In time rationalize
Irrational thoughts
Insanity’s formation

Soaked in a dishrag
Left in the empty sink
Sopping up each drop
Cold and regular

Insane tricklings
Of a mind, too long, alone
Drip, dripping
In a world that’s not his home

Black Days

Black, black, black, black
The only colors I see
Until I close my eyes
Replay that last interaction
     The final scene

Each day the bright reds
Of your crazed manias
Are harder to take

Each day the explosions
Fill me with such dread

Beetle crawling across the
      Moist red bricks
Red spider crawls across
      The knuckles of my clenched hand

Each day
      The separation grows
      The wounded widow flows
      The broken window shows
            The reds and blacks
                   And grays

Too Cold

There was a chill in the air
That early September morning

Curtis increased his speed
Just a step
To keep pace with the blond

Tall and lean, dressed warmly
He imagined how it would be
He imagined his next kill

The randomness of it
And the sheer terror he saw
As the life followed the hope
Departing from cold eyes

Annie tried to shake the chill
She sped up a bit
She knew the feeling was irrational
That feeling of being too cold

As she turned the corner
She stole a glance at the man
She was somehow sure now
As the chill ran ever deeper

She prayed that someone would open a door
Any of the doors of the empty apartment buildings
As she felt the hope departing
As she felt the chill increasing

She took another turn
And gasped as she realized her error
The truck ahead blocked the alley
And while she was sure she could squeeze through
There was a chain link fence behind it
With barbed wire at the top

She screamed
As the knife went in
She felt even more chilled
Too cold

Not Shopping There No More

green twisted tendrils
rusty iron teeth
obscured by your suits
smooth, green, and pleasant

we are no longer fucking persuaded
by your promises, your mysteries, your smoothness
today begins the new rising
today begins the resistance

shiny spectacular disks
far too large to fly
we're not buying the lies
we're not fucking shopping there no more

blue light specials
filling the midnight skies
lulled our insecurity
but no fucking more

elixir of the silence
yellow, grey with chunks
we're not opening the fucking cans
we're not shopping there no more

fuck you, you panda fucking fuckers
you will not succeed in your plans
to create a more perfect race
we're not shopping there no more

we will not fucking surrender
we're closing all your fucking portals
blowing you into obsolescence
past and future are moot when you're dead