Last Protest Against Corruption


31

From the white podium
of my imagination, I sleep
with the dream language

of the rest of humanity
living in the republic of treason
In a world I no longer believe in

verily verily I walk the gardens there
where sarcasm has become the
dominant narrative for surviving

Nihilism, I look for the keys
Of revolution or change, but there
Are non here, politics has become

the language of mockery, infidels
the criminals who own us now
it is truly no evidence of a great soul

to live a long life here, maybe
withstanding these cruel games
From the white podium of my imagination

I have learned, how to die well
with my dream language
I trade in apparitions, and refuse
to live standing still like a dead beetle.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Anna-412756504

Force for Union


20

With the pulse of night
I will enact in us, the first movement –
We will slip and flood and
Perhaps embrace, an act of union

To-night, a bit like all nights
With the necessity of being passionate
Culminating in our inexorable care
I am still imperially strong & male

With a colony of youth still bursting within
And senses to witness your body
Even if I have grown older, my brain
Carries with it a legacy of evolution

An act that sprouts so unilaterally free
The rendering of procreation
In a process of beating at your borders
Fluid across your waters, with treaties of peace
Ready to build colonies through caresses of skin.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/milos-island-a-different-world-404266901