(P)ower

Palaces made by impoverished people,

Pillaging armies and promises of equal

Opportunities hide behind a plume of evil.

Persistence provides the power of the eagle

Political advantages in a pyramid scheme.

Pardons permit the economic regimes,

While penalties to a few perpetuate the means

To propagate corporations and persecute the “unclean.”

Paranoid psychotics attempt to spread pandemonium,

Pretentiously pretending to be sanctimonious,

And plotting to produce piles of plutonium;

Proposing and controlling an impractical dominion.

We pollute the environment and proliferate destruction,

While partisan politicians prescribe obstructions,

Preventing solutions and promoting combustion;

Planning a post-apocalyptic reconstruction.

Penitentiaries expand and empower the police,

Producing unemployed ex-cons per release.

Privileged wardens receive payoffs that increase

Protections for bribes that make the prosperous obese.

Pageantry passively occupies the pedestrians

While Paramount Pictures manipulate the thespians

Pompous populations fall victim to the delirium

Profligacy and panache are the most nefarious

Preordained pastors predominate the masses

Preciously offering the heavenly passage

Partitioning humanity like a party of fascists

Passionately pristine until turning into ashes

Power perverts all, even the most pure

We as a people must passionately endure

Patience and presence of mind can be the cure

Against this picture of perfection that is only an allure

The Blur

Fragments of color, light and lack thereof

The objects begin and end together

Light shines, from down below and high above

Shapes as thin as the width of a feather

Colors blend as they merge in unity

Unable to recognize distinction

I fight for resemblance, some clarity

My vision reaches close to extinction

Swirling masses begin to swell

like waves crashing along the shore

This culmination of blindness spells

my mind, meditation is the cure

Perhaps somehow I’ll break this feeling

Escape the hopelessness, the blur

If not I know that this ceiling

Will collapse and earth will absorb

My body, my mind, my everything

Life and death’s own accord

Meaningless, they are these feelings

Feelings, with which I cannot afford