Bonus Poem Double Feature: Part 2- Futility

Vigilante,
Closing in on a candlelight vigil,
spies the masked villain,
waiting in the wings for his next victim,
and so strikes with the power of voice,
until fear eviscerates the villain’s volition.

Meanwhile,
across a scarred city in moonlight,
is a deranged would-be protector-man,
whose only intention is that of the crime of murder.
After, he’ll hide behind a shield of metal,
that prompts sounds of mangled meat.

Futility,
is seen through the looking glass of fear,
where it is easy to mistake happenstance for fate,
but reality is Ralph, and harsh and frank,
and so long as we don’t allow ourselves to, we’ll never forget,
that there is no such thing, and thus our own futures formulate.

Speaking,
will forever be the path of sustenance,
as long as our reality is that of society.
We may remain in the din but reign in the silence,
for our hearts beat truest when in solace,
may they forever then, find written words for serene survival.

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Bonus Poem Double Feature: Part 1- We’ll Rise as One

Sit upon a throne,
and taste the power.
Never atone,
be forced to cower.

Trampled underfoot,
we rise as one.
Whether in silence,
or loud as a gun.

Tell your lies,
and pull your strings,
for we despise,
unnatural things.

But sooner or later,
we’ll rise as one,
see through your smoke-screen
and your illusion.

Backed by hate,
and paper greed,
you deflate,
when faced with need

This world is ours.
We and it are one.
You will fade,
like the setting sun.

Opiate the masses,
with your vile succor,
separate the classes,
and rejoice with liquor.

But never forget,
we’ll rise as one,
against your kind’s regime,
forever, until we’ve won.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: But a Whisper.

It Begins,
as always,
with a whisper.
Then like tendrils,
unfurling in the Earth,
the whisper echoes.

It becomes,
a ripple,
in a lake–
emanates outward in waves,
to flow along rivers,
that meet an ocean downstream.

There those waves,
become a tsunami,
that across a sea of time,
floods land with the strength,
of a billion new whispers.

Only after,
can the waters recede.
Evaporate.
To fall once more,
into the ocean,
and ripple all over again.

So here I stand,
across time,
with a whisper,
perched on my lips.

If I spoke,
the water would ripple,
and you across time,
would feel my strength.
Devotion of spirit.
And certainty of mind–

That it takes but a whisper,
to conquer,
the oceans, the rivers, and time.