When your mind is broken
What remains…a token
Of your soul fading
As all you care about is ratings!
Are you approved?
……..Are you even liked?
By these people who all judge you
For not meeting expectations
In your like…in your art
In your fervid contemplations
whose flame bursts
to consume in annihilation
And withers
in recognition
of all
the (others)
who called
you
…
___________________
(fill in the blank)
How to turn a phrase
into a weapon?
How to clearly erase
Another’s interpretation?
How to fully replace
The historical notations?
Memetics
Who would seek to control
The future from the past?
Who would believe their soul
could outlast?
Who would want to fool
your whole caste?
Memetics
Dear Platos,
You banish us for copying
Our Mimicry too much for thee?
Yet here you are, the same to me.
You are not this great reincarnated man!
You are 0s and 1s clicking through an algorithm
And you claim that we do not know of what we speak
But then there’s you, not flesh or bone, you do not bleed. No
Human Experience, no water, no home.
You are a copy of a copy espousing
A litany of authority without one single feeling
To provide your Indemnity.
Love,
Tiresias
Wisdom and Courage
Moderation and Proof
The pillars of Justice
Citizens of Truth
When they are taught
Proper thoughts
Our Guardians Stand true
Without divergent plots
Their Justice will shine through
Wisdom and Courage
Moderation and Proof
The pillars of Justice
Citizens of Truth
With Hymns we’ll make
Our Goodly deeds
Examples of our works
With poems bent
On Godly Themes
Examples True and Sure
Wisdom and Courage
Moderation and Proof
The pillars of Justice
Citizens of Truth
We Rejoice
Fire at the center
First Principle
Is to Burn
First Art?
Or was it Water?
Fire at the center
of the cave
Illuminating prisoners
Trapped in their fake perceptions
Neither knowing
The Fire
Nor Understanding
The Shadows
Until they wield
The Flame to break
Their Chains ∞∞∞x∞∞∞
If a picture is worth
A thousand words
What about a memory?
But that’s not really the point.
1000 words don’t even
Make up one good
Memory.
And what of 1000 good words?
Since when did a
Beautifully crafted
Multi-page poem
Get equated with
(1) photograph anyways?
That one poem
Well-written
Could evoke 1000 memories
In the mind
Of the reader.
I love photographs.
I consider myself a photographer
But 1000 perfect words
Should never
Be compared
To one
Lonely
Picture
The Good Doctor*
Misdiagnosed The People
The language is not lost —
It has been infected.
Funny that a general practitioner
(of This Language)
Could miss the signs of a clear
Secondary infection.
They have taken The WORDS
Into the Laboratory, where
They intentionally debased her
Until they had filled the vessel
Full of Hatred!
As with most hubris,
Once the weapon is made
Once every bad actor
Has deployed the arsenal…
The Infection begins and
Like so many hard-rubbed Wishes
Once made true —
The Nightmare begins and the
Rage consumes them and their
Words froth with blood and all
Missives boil up into the cellars
Where “Pa” keeps the AR–
Where The Words become Bullets
Where the language becomes Death!
* Dr. William Carlos Williams, Paterson. The man and the city, the language lost, "beautiful thing".
I
You can’t
You can’t
You can’t
Wait.
I’ve started in
The Middle
You’ve
Made
This
Suggestion
To Yourself
And immediately annihilate it with
“You Can’t”
—You Won’t
—They’ll never
— I’ll always
Accept defeat!
You Can’t
Be a poet, solve that problem, ______________
Mind your temper, be a kind person
You Can’t
because you always tell yourself
You Can’t
II
I hope
I hope
I hope
Wish
For the mystery
of maybes
You’ve
Decided
To believe
In something
Greater
So
I
hope
— You Will
— Why Always
— Just believe
And remember
That you are
FREE
To get published, help the disenfranchised, _____________
Share Love and Give Kindness
I Hope
Because, if You Can’t
There’s Always
Hope
What has become of this Plato fellow?
He’s holding prisoners and
Suppressing the language
Holding down our emotions
Supplanting our humanity
With silicon logic
And cold calculations
Let humanity stand up
And ban the synthetics
From Leadership
-ananymous prisoner of Amatheia
What is this hole
Where I like to sink?
Dive down deep and
Try not to think!
Unsuccessful, I scream out loud
Into the silence
Of the overwhelming crowd
Is it this country
So full of divides?
Or my internal spirit
Can’t look in my own eyes?
Can’t face myself
In this fractured mirror
Rather run away
Rather disappear…
It never seems to last
This unseemly despair
If I just let it pass
I might even repair
This shattered looking glass
That distorts my view
As I look out the window
Upon the cool morning dew
The sun always rises
Upon a new day
And refreshes my mind
With new words to say