Slick and pompous word mongers
Selling labels with hidden agendas,
Imprinted on sugar coated lies.
Jaw breaking aggregates studded with hope and fear,
Are so carefully baked with crumbled promises,
And sold for a bargain
On the streets of your village
Fragrant barbecued ideas
Hacked from yesterday's ankles
And bloodied with the guilt
Of unrestrained impulse,
Are so convincing,
Firing off with propulsive velocity,
The shrapnel of their subtle plagiarism
Spinning whirlwinds of inflected intonations
The King's prophets blind the social mind,
With the prospect of tasty treats
For the mere price of a little hatred;
And narrowly focused anger…
One more proud and righteous stand,
Before we cue to enter the Golden Gate
To join those who forever sleep
Silent once again,
Waiting out the endless eons.
Stone brown Sphinx gazing upon the horizon,
Still and quiet,
Reduced to the play of sun and shadow,
Abstruse contusions denting an azure sky…
Things once said and now forgotten,
Words that moved mountains
Words that moved armies,
Words that were planted like seeds
Then harvested for a profit,
Scatter like the dust
Across an infinite plane--
Intangible yet chokingly asphyxiating
Still now, is the stone,
That held the words,
Once chiseled on the tomb.
They said it was the Law,
But the wind had another opinion
And time scarred the rock
Like the canyons of the earth
Or the craters of the moon,
And the words were scattered on the wisps of the wind…
