Tick

Philosophy won't ever help
a butcher make a cleaner cut
and War's a fearsome teacher but
it heels the haughty whelp

despite the lethal force
with which a shell can detonate
the tortured timebombs we create
should cause the most remorse.

Decoded

There's so much more to art
than programs may detect
for no computer has a heart
with which one can connect

efficient code might gauge
adherence to a rule
(an algorithm isn't sage
it's just a mindless tool)

and if you dare create
for beauty's sake alone
the critics could become irate
as those who judge are prone

but in the end it falls
on seekers of the truth
to choose if genius truly calls
or simply vulgar youth.

Blowhard

Tornadoes have appendages
that's where the rubble flies
away from the apologies
they wink with tranquil eyes
but if I'm being blunt
it's all a tragic front.

Lifer II

Another day of hell
pretending that I care
how much I'd miss this cell

if suddenly it fell
because it couldn't bear
another day of hell.

I found a piece of shell
to scratch the walls and share
how much I loathe this cell

my etchings barely tell
how poorly one will fare;
another day of hell

of things not going well
just makes me more aware
how much I spurn this cell,

but then I can't dispel
this desperate urge for air—
another day of hell?
Oh, how I'll miss this cell.

Remembrance

The sky was speckled black
like pepper had been spilled
the cordite from the flak
was so damn thick it filled
their mouths, and every breath
was redolent with coming death,

they suffered in the air
on the beaches and the sea
our soldiers learned to bear
their pain for liberty
and we salute the distant plane
where they have gone, though not in vain.

Inflorescence

The lilacs are in bloom
and I feel myself regressing
to that little paneled room
where I spent so much time guessing
uncertain what would loom
and clueless what a blessing
those days devoid of gloom
would seem when life's distressing

I miss those sunny days
and the raw, untainted wonder
reflected in the rays
and pealing like the thunder
arriving with the Mays
when I was growing, under
the spell of scented ways
that made me less a blunder.

Processed

We were like McNuggets in a line
carnivores in cars that came to dine
I watched a cigarette inhaling man
collecting garbage from a bulging can
the grayish smoke in which his face was lost
reminded me of smoldering exhaust
which choked me as I waited there to pay
for poison that the clowns say is okay.

Soar Spot

I watched a robin take wing
while on my work-bound route
and wondered if I had a thing
of value to commute
for just one shot to sing
but I was destitute
so wished it well as it began
a lilting tune unknown to man

and prompted by those gentle notes
I sought a different path
to skirt the management that gloats
about lopsided math
regurgitated down the throats
that warble hungry wrath
and maybe find a place where I
can have a chance to reach the sky.

Raised

There's been nothing heretofore observed
that helps explain why faith has swerved
and no compelling facts as yet
to null a skeptic's chance to fret
but all my nagging doubts are brief
confronted by my core belief
that God indeed exists above
to nurture those in search of love.

Flocked

They affably bleat
immune to the scorn
that's heaped at their feet
the sheepish are shorn

they're constantly fleeced
from when they are born
until they're deceased
the sheepish are shorn

rebellion has dimmed
they gather each morn
content to be trimmed
the sheepish are shorn.

Truant

The sun is out,
it's golden tone
is so devout
it warms the stone
and spurs the sprout—

the sun went out
it's dying moan
was like a shout
that made one doubt
it ever shone.

Dispersal

Burn my body on a pyre
return my soul to smoke
unfettered by the fire
from this fragile mortal yoke

the wispy bluish curls will drift
wherever winds may blow
beyond the rapids and the rift
and weary worlds of woe.

Shades of Humility

A milky moon meanders through
the murky sky of night
as pensive as a pupil who
suspects the sense of sight

and once again it seeks to coax
with strident sterling streams
of lust, the spirit which provokes
a dialogue of dreams

the cool and stony way it peers
into my very soul
is amplifying atmospheres
conducive to control

but rebel forces counteract
conceited queens-to-be
that try their darnedest to extract
the prose of perigee

and all the would-bes of her court
watch grandeur coyly blink
as umbrage rules her lone retort--
a long, determined wink.

Dynasty

For some a poem's a lifetime
for others it's merely a thought
and then there are those whose bad rhyme
is better left unwrought

a strophe can be but a season
a couplet can birth something fine
the search for a logical reason
may end with the newly found line.

Phraseology

In a discriminating age
is there age discrimination
or an all-consuming rage
is there raging consummation
once they demonstrate their wage
can you wage a demonstration
if you dominate the stage
will it stage a domination?