Art; Part III - 2010/03/30

Pipe dreams of power floating about ready to snatch,
By those whose egos are deemed worthy of the catch.
Though impenetrable fog covered the tricky trail ahead,
They marched despite the fact they would soon be dead.
Beyond each bend they faced a choice that must be made,
The results of which were ignored by those who obeyed.
For if power is the topic of the work we have created,
Blind devotion is the canvas upon which it was painted.
Blood is the base of the oil paint that is employed,
To tell the world the story of this prophecy deployed.
Lives lost as a summation of this fruitless endeavor,
Are the tragic story surrounding this artist so clever.
Whatever his name, we shall damn the image of his face,
So that his admirers worldwide may rethink their place.
For regardless of the details of the work or tomorrow,
Rest assured my compatriots, it will be full of sorrow.


A Dark Intermission - 2010/03/23

The horizon ahead seems clean; just a few trees,
Yet no one truly knows what a desperate man sees.
Rising from the mounds of dead long ago forgotten,
Comes a tower, the foundation of which is rotten.
Fear fills it's base and floods the clearing about,
For it is here you can tell the weak from the stout.
We dared not risk crossing the threshold inside,
Knowing that it is with the light that we did hide.
Only in a dream unlived, do I dare to venture alone,
Into the darkness inside in which I must now atone.
Sins and success alike, are shamed in a ray of truth,
Only to be challenged after wards for a bit of proof.
A vision fills my eyes, a dream unknown to the rest,
A fiery spark filling the rest of my life with zest.
Nobody knows this deep and dark hope that I groom,
I would become one with the tower that spells my doom.
Ask me why if you will, there is no longer a reason,
For every moment of existence is part of the season.
One day I shall depart, a single destination in mind,
And within that dark tower, my remains you shall find.


Art; Part II - 2010/03/21

Technology has given rise to new power unchecked,
So the masters that now wield it lack the respect.
Like random fractals dancing about on the screen,
So many claim to preach what right and wrong mean.
Yet the rule of law cannot bind the hatred of man,
And basic human nature shall conquer any such plan.
In their worlds of black and white they cannot tell,
What is it like to exist in this pastel coated hell.
The colors I see are the blood oozing from the walls,
As I seek to plug my ears to drown out the cat calls.
Although I tend to forget the great cycle turning,
Even as the forest around me seems to be burning.
And zoomed out there is not all that much to see,
For but a paltry moment in which we happen to be.
Despite this perspective, I continue to be engaged,
Though this brush I now wield is no longer enraged.
It speaks with vigor, upheld by prophecy to pass,
A poison otherwise ignored, yet still in my glass.
So let's give toast to our supremacy with cute quips,
So I can observe as doom foretold meets your lips.


Art; Part I - 2010/03/18

A revolution is revealed as the power is dismissed,
Undone by too much needless death to outright list.
This edifice shaken, is now crumbling to the ground,
As before my eyes it disappears at the speed of sound.
Weapons of war moving as they were the cycle of fate,
Leaving a background radiation that will soon dissipate.
The lives we meant to save were damned from the start,
Persisting only to finish this destructive work of art.
Our fortunes which are now undone by this future untold,
Cannot be bought though it appears they have been sold.


Chaotic Blocks - 2010/03/14

Before you is the wall that I built.
Beyond it is the blood I have spilled.
It was designed without heed for form.
Though it functions to enclose the storm.
Whatever is beyond still remains trapped.
Though it's strength has not been sapped.

How desperately I claw, looking to undo,
This fortification that I only now rue.
And while it seemed to protect me long ago,
I know it is time to let the blood flow.
Like a plug for a leak, a drought in the rain,
The monster inside feels a new kind of pain.

Block by block, the removal occurs.
You poor people know not what stirs.
An awakening of sorts begins today.
Let this tear down light the way.
Pick up anything you can see around.
Together we can smash it to the ground.

Imprisoned and forgotten by all now dead,
The horizon I've painted runs scarlet red.
Freedom has come and my power has not waned,
As it has been proven it cannot be contained.
Separate we are blocks of chaos with no form,
Together we now can take this world by storm.

See that which is beyond, yet is now out.
Two halves together have formed a new whole,
Different from each other but not without.
A power of a new kind is what I now wield.
And if it is a vendetta you wish to pursue,
Then we will erect a new wall in this field.


Absinthe - 2010/03/02

Neutered and forgotten, still a sight to behold,
The effects can be marvelous or so I am told.
From colorless to shades of succulent green,
I doubt that it's something that you've ever seen.
Tepid fools fearful of rumors from centuries past,
Concocted prohibition that it managed to outlast.
Yet this group irrationality continues to preside,
And by their ignorance sensible folks must abide.
So drink to your lord and pray that he may save,
This land of freedom to which you are now a slave.


Mask - 2010/03/01

The mask I did wear,
Is now left about unloved,
And I do not care.

The mask you once saw,
Has been removed from my face,
I broke no real law.

This face you now see,
Scares those too weak willed away,
Alas its just me.

So go tell the world,
Of this dreadful news you have,
While I dance and whirl.