Imperium Hex

The moth attracted to the flame
The people who “game” the game
For those oblivious to shame
Power

The cop who looks at all as “perp”
The oligarch weaned on usurp
From tyrannical to tiny twerp
Power

The man who chains and kicks his dog
The sadist grinning as he flogs
A mastodon ‘top squirming wog
Power

The husband who beats his wife
The hunter snuffing wide-eyed life
A tough guy with a six inch knife
Power

The landlord who hikes the rent
The gentry with all morals spent
For thugs applying “sinking” cement
Power

The boards, panels and commissions
The governing who know not contrition
In all climes and times ‘t is the condition
Power

The one who blithely breaks a heart
The gluttonous taking choicest part
Humankind’s addiction from the start
Power

The power to heal and create smile
Is oft’ exchanged for self-serving guile
And methinks it shall be quite awhile

Before time’s clock shall strike the hour
Of the altruistic flower…and man begins to sour
On…Power

Shadows Recaptured

Lengthening shadows of September
Carry me back to my days as a youth
We aled, regaled…I remember
And lived happy lie before the sad truth
Someone once said, “Youth is wasted on young”
There once was a day I could have cared less
Now aging, jaded, the toll bell has rung
How many more chimes is anyone’s guess
Yet, autumn’s sweet song it never lasts long
The onset of winter, coming of death
Once rambunctious, a most boisterous throng
We’ve crested the mountain, gasping for breath
Glorious, jubilant, my September
Skies and hair gray, awaiting December

Hot Rod Reaper

Thinking I might, test drive…death
Smell the snarky salesman’s…breath
Stroll around…see what they got
Personage ends…in parking lot
Kick the tires…adjust seat
Corpus Delicti…hitting the street
Cruise around…laughing at time
Then tell the dude…changed my mind
Got the itch…for a sales pitch
Cat convinced me…sonofabitch!

Moral Compass

“By Neptune’s beard…we’re hopelessly lost, Cap’n.”
“What say ye? Son of a slithering serpent…”
“T is true, me Cap’n…without the Compass…”
“Aye, and you’re bloody daft, man -
The bloomin’ compass is here afore me!”
“Yeoman Bosun…tie the scurvy dog to the yardarm
And give me the cat ‘o’ nines!”
“Wait, Cap’n, ‘tis the wrong compass ye gaze.”
“Speak quick, lad, ‘ere I peel ya like a purple grape!”
“T is not ‘that’ compass Cap’n…
'T is our ‘moral compass’ that’s lost”

From A.M. to P.M.

I was eighteen…for 365 days
Thirty six years and
Nine months ago
That’s Thirteen thousand
One hundred and forty days past
Three hundred and fifteen thousand
Three hundred and sixty hours ticked away
Forty five million, Four hundred and eleven thousand
Eight hundred and forty seconds gone
And know what, Alice?… "I liked it”