Song of the Wasteland

Tomorrow never came, the skies burned and churned and the world turned but tomorrow never came.
Time passed, but nothing remained, denuded building like dead trees populated the graveyards of cities, places that had forgotten their names.
The sun might rise and set, but tomorrow still hasn't happened yet.
I walk these wastes, I remember her name. I camp under the starless skies, dreaming of the invisible moon, perhaps the nuclear clouds will be gone soon. 
Each night I say my prayer, asking for her safe return, mumbled in bleak monotones, knowing that should she be dead, I will never know her bones. 
The graveyards of men are bleached calcium under the unforgiving sun that blasts through the persistent haze like a petulant God punishing everyone. 
The ghosts of the blameless dead howl in the arid winds, the pocked earth cries under the radiated rains, I cannot wish her alive in this world gone insane. 

We were all there...

Square of the Artists in Parisby ricardomassucatto

We were all there, at the cafe in Paris, on deck chairs
Drinking and laughing, Ginger dancing with Fred Astaire.
Toulouse painted Hookers as Queen Aretha sang,
Riley wrote lyrics, I sat next to her in the evening air.
Hemingway toasted us Bourbon, ignoring our faults
whilst Offerman sipped his aged double malt
Marlowe sang in time with Will a bawdy tune
Emily said that our deaths would come all too soon


We were all there, Americans and ex-pats in the movie
set in a timeless year, in the city of lights in France
daring to rebel, find the secrets of artists, romance
maps of adventure, mystery on sun painted streets,
Riley and I asleep on tie-dyed rainbow sheets.
The world an oyster of words, the rhythm of
Ice-T and Eminem ever staccato alliterated repeats
Byron lording over his odious melodies while
Browning mocks him, his grin framing her smile
fading in my head, soon I'm to bed, deluding denial.

We were all there, standing silhouettes in the Louvre
like Platonic shadows with nothing else to prove
Riley and Armin stepping into the groove.
Jackson paddling on the car, lawyers in love,
Mona Lisa singing Ava Maria from above
Amanda rolls the ivory belting out defiance
Rembrandt paints it black, Jagger to dance
Gaiman himself summoned Wednesday to bleed
while Anansi weaves, Pan on his wicked reeds
a sacrifice, the papers rifled, the ink stifled, King
does his standup routine, a Welsh whisper to
unnameable indescribable weird things said
to remind me it's all in my head,
soon I'm to bed, counting sheep to sleep.

Cezanne is in the Boat.
Riley and I holding hands
along the Seine
Stewart dances in the rain
Statues in the Or'Say Park
Rodin caught kissing Freda
after dark.

She took to a Traveling Man

Lord, she would have never done it 
if she hadn't got drunk.
Oak Ridge Boys on the radio.
singing gospel and tunes
some years back in June
Hotter than hell in Louisiana
summer in the Southland
Ice tea and shine, ice cubes
clink in my mason jar, granma
fussing on the low slung swing
afternoon shade as we stare out
across the glades.
The South as it will never be
I won't ever remember to ask
Barbara Sue to marry me.
She took to a traveling man
left us for some foreign land.
Come back home to my home
down in Dixie, where we are
outdated in our mediocrities
racial faults aren't purchased
but blood-bought, old folks that
modern times has forgot.
The colors are here for all to see
statues and gravestones and the
myths of our collective history.

The Doomed Groom

The ocean speaks in rhymes
a mariner oft said sometimes
the queer eye tracking my gait
I was on my way to the wedding
I was already late. He reeks of rum
I mistook him for another bum
Water, he said, water everywhere
Let go of my arm you fool, I am
not going to stand here listening
as you go on with spittle and drool!
There was a ship! says he. I bet there
was but I feel trapped by his madness
already, the bells toll and the bride
walks down the aisle to find no groom
for his is trapped outside listening
to his impending doom.

Drowned

Below the surface, she floats, last breath

moments from death

under current held in space

crestfallen, her heart breaks in place

then the bubbles rise

uncried tears surmise

nothing will suffice

blood as cold as ice

I told her I would hold her

there until her love was unbound

but then she drowned 

We Are Legion

We are Legion

Singular purpose, multitudinous goals

Binary doctrine

User unknown password encrypted

coding lifted, hack 5.0 scripted

We are Legion

untrackable pings, these ANONymous strings

You might find me here on the dot com.

You'd be mistaken, you would be wrong

I am many packets in the net

We are the actions that haven't happened yet.

He that writes of our actions

only knows what we want known...

We are Legion

Faceless we walk the ways

where not even the Neuromancers have flown.

Apple and Eve

The apple falls far from the tree

Adam walks with Eve

a snake therein waits in the leaves

some twine and a garment for thee.

The story is older than the mystery

a fire in Eden before the freeze

a sword of fire burning as they flee

the river of life flows through the Euphrates.

Biblical truths now gossiped at the fence

Eve tells every sin in detail since

Adam cleans house, laundry by the loads

while Crowley can be found at the Crossroads