Smiling Babies

  
All these smiling, blooming babies,

dancing, writhing in the daisies-

make me foaming, rabid 

crazy.

Apathetic,

Foolish,

lazy??

If they charge with wand in hand,

to save the hopeless and the damned

And staunch the endless flow of blood,

we would surely all be drowned,

6 feet under, in the ground-

And who among us left to judge,

Explain those words of peace and love,

 To each and every corpse decaying

 in the Crimson, rotting, 

stinking mud…

Lifeless

  
Charming, witty endless banter,

whispered dreams,

and charnel prose,

sprinkled with a mystic promise.

Sordid mildewed fares and tokens,

memories frost, 

all truth unspoken.

Artful, pretty proclamations,

lullabies to misplaced fancy.

senseless past,

and faithless present,

no shining future I’ve to tend.

A blind eye turned-

then quickley burned.

I listen to my sage excuses,

lacking heart,

these silly muses.

Ashes fed to dying flame;

passionless,

no guilt or shame.

Just this plant I tried to fuel,

conceived of plastic leaves and shoots;

there are no buds, no colored blooms…

no grasping reaching hungry roots-

for nothing living ever grows 

in cold and silent,

empty tombs.