Nietzsche said:
That which does not kill you
only makes you stronger.
This may well be true
for those who have strong wills.
But what he forgot to take into account
are all the people who face an avalanche
and then spend the rest of their days buried alive.
More at http://17numa.wordpress.com/.
We are building roads to roads
that build roads to
nowhere
people are at the same time
sane and insane
are you listening
to the wind
as she whispers
when dawn drags her belly
pregnant and full
across the purpling skyline
as the sun
places her hand
ever so warmly
upon the nape of your neck
and the sea
bellows
stop
stop
stop
just stop and listen
no
do not even try
just be
good
follows
good follows
nature and trees
and all that is
Earth and dirt
and sand
and you and me
you
see
it is not easy
to
simply
be
left to right
to
center
as the Earth bellows
bombs
like airstrikes
on the innocent
and we keep voting
and protesting
and dying while alive
living in a
free state of
mind controlled
flight
where do I turn
when the world has gone mad
and everything is on a
merry
go round
and
rounds
of bullets fly
from lips, pursed
in hate
and anger
rising
like Valhalla
and the Valkyries scream like
eagles scrying
thunder
We are building roads to roads
that build roads to
nowhere
Listen to Susan Marie read this poem at https://soundcloud.com/susan-marie/valhalla.
Anytime she meets
Someone in public,
She’s quick to smile
And assure them
That everything is
All right.
Her eyes dart around,
Worried that someone
Will see the secret
She thinks she’s hiding
But is abundantly apparent
To everyone else.
He awaits at home,
Permeated with
Unresolved anger,
Pacing back and forth,
A sordid creature
Guarding its lair.
She’s my beautiful Angel
So take my hands
And fly away with me
My beautiful Angel
And leave our past behind our
Happiness and joy ahead
Smiling all the way
I’ll keep you safe and warm
Sheltered from the Storm
We’re finally home at last
Inside my heart you’ll be
Forever beating away with me…
When crossing the street I check both ways
four times
because I am afraid
that one day
a middle aged man who has been
at the bar all afternoon,
avoiding the wife he’s no longer in love with,
will miss the red light
because he’s texting her
that he had to stay late at the office
and that when I step onto the crosswalk
the grill of his suburban will fold around my body
creating an imprint of my profile,
nose and all,
and that by the time the ambulance arrives
it will be too late,
and no one will know
to cut off my pinkie
in honor of the pinkie promise
I made her
under the glow in the dark stars pasted to her ceiling.
If all the sinners burn
in an unquenchable flame
what will that do
to all the saints
who have no one left
to complain about?
If all the viruses are cured
by a perfect sanitation
how will evolution
get a kick
in the ribs
to keep moving?
More at http://17numa.wordpress.com/.
It’s all in your eyes,
I was once assured.
A smile isn’t genuine,
Unless the eyes confirm.
The words mean nothing,
Unless the eyes affirm.
It’s all in your eyes,
Eternity stored.
More at http://spinymidnightrambling.blogspot.com/2014/12/its-all-in-your-eyes.html.
I love only my kind.
But a world of just
your kind would to
monotony consign you.
I celebrate just my kind.
But a world that celebrates
only you, would to the utter
depths of boredom relegate you.
I prefer just my kind.
But the preference of your kind
would your curiosity wear out.
I only recognize my world.
But a world of only you
can never its horizon broaden.
I only relish my own race.
But a world devoid of
other races would be the
most uninteresting.
My race must the entire earth occupy.
But without the ‘inferior’ races,
how could you ‘superiority’ claim?
I have a lebensraum for my
race to occupy.
A lebensraum for only you
would geography obliterate.
So let your world be yours,
and let mine be mine.
Your culture and language you
may retain, whilst mine I also
retain,
as we both our diversity
celebrate.
Because diversity is nothing
more than the spice of life.
Flamboyantly clad,
Feathers arranged in an astonishing
array of colours,
distinctively seen,
brightest of all,
and uniquely adorned for
a century’s wedlock in
a bird’s haven.
That is I, the Peacock.
The angel with elegance that you
crave for.
An epitome of standards coveted by
models fair.
Endowed by nature with neither
mascara nor lipstick.
But having features elusive that
pageants in a lifetime ache for.
