Salting the earth

Take it from the first books-
Though you may feel you are gentle,
The judgements against you are harsh.
They span far beyond your life,
Gleaning the collective journey
Of sweat & of blood.
If your mind is clouded,
Drain the marsh.
For there are no waters
Too deep or too shallow
That will supersede a verdict.

I shutter desire,
I quiet fear,
And drag a rusty blade across my skin.
It's about what I let out,
Not what I've taken in.
These sweat and tears,
This blood that drops,
I hope you all soak it up.
Each of you, like ***** mops;
Never getting anything clean,
Just spreading all the muck around
And calling everyone *****.

The best way to goad a lie?
Believe it yourself.
But it's even easier
To convince others of the truth
Being false itself

The contrast between truth and falsehood
Lie in the whether
The inquiring party
Believe, or not;

Sufficiently convinced enough

Listening to the great leader
And he promises better wages,
A better economy,
Safer streets,
Domestic manufacturing for national autonomy.
Just wondering when it's supposed to begin,
So far as I can see
The politicians taking the stage
Are long bought before they address the Republic.
40 years of presidents like pages,
Each turning over to new additions to a chapter
This awful period befallen our nation.
Another ink blotch, intelligible stains,
On the history of America

What peace is spoken of?
What normalcy?
More war? Further widening the gap
Between the rich & the poor?
Another mean-nothing speech,
Full of thoughts and prayers
Never to be carried to term?
Bills brought to the floor
Only to be stalled by their authors?
Flirting with failure
From manufactured crisis, and with
Pointless battles over culture.
Never have the oppressive been more direct
In their inability to lead
Views, values, beliefs;
Scavenging their remains
Akin to common vultures.

I knew It was coming the moment I opened the door.

The sky warned me. A distant, dull voice whispered, "You can't beat It." The sweetest sadness slowly ****** each syllable. I accepted the challenge and began to pedal. For a while, I pedaled without disturbance, except for a distant, dull sky sadly trailing behind. Watching. Waiting. Knowing.

Then It came. It took its time. It was not the one who needed to hurry. I pedaled on and felt It kiss the tip of my forehead, then lick the side of my nose, leaving me cold. I began to count the touches; one, two -pedal, pedal, pedal, pedal - three - pedal, pedal, pedal - four - pedal - five - pedal, pedal - six -pedal - seven - pedal - eight, nine, ten...

And I’m drenched.

Read the people around you
Long ago I saw the stars above
They went somewhere
Its an idea, like all the others

Just as all the others
A distant, cold place
But familiar
I understood, maybe some day

At the end of the day
Burns never heal
Only out-shined by new flame
I am the Iron, that stains

In the pool hall,
We speak of revolution
And on resolutions.
How to wake people up?
We are all so consumed,
With the struggles of day-to-day.
So focused on the bottom line:
We're letting the future slip away.

The best laid plans,
like grains of sand
are swiftly streaming
through my hands

Don't get excited
don't celebrate yet
every time I do
I lose the bet

These vapid clichés
Shuttered plays
Days and days
Waste away
Into the endless
tangled fray