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THIS MONTH'S SUBMISSION
POET'S CORNER
It is
from my Book of Words.
Chapter War By Mike Kutepow
The threat of fear has embarked once more again and off to freedom that has never shown her face. The powers that be tread foxhole prayers in their wake for nothing more than hope behind the lines that are drawn to be powerless boundaries. The human disease spreads like bad karma for the sake of the godless convictions of bullets and bombs. The button has since bit pushed. Their faith is now in their fear. And the clouds now cry down Patriot media seeking missals traced trails upon American television screens.
War has now become the enemy. Like a movie line scrip spoken actress in distress, war is a friendly Hoboken target commodity. An economic motive with religious justification, and middle class New Jersey poets preach everything is wrong and it all comes from the city. The individual walled cities of the world is only lacking that one universal myth to hold us all together again. When all the king horses defend their own pretentious ends, the eyes cracked with nationalism again. And we pretend that we're one Unite Nation like New York City with our own pompous Statue of Liberty. But what the Lord giveth, the war taketh away.
I know for my own I have never tasted war, and never seen freedom like this since 1993.
The form of life in its various ways, the face of shrouded beings cease, and war has history beyond what's seen. So from what onset has conflict cast the demand on boundary and commodity like a cross to carry onto the levy? What tales to tell of human aggression imped upon what horrific images.
THE SCREAM
Untitled by Sara Miller
Alone.
Lost.
Forever.
Hey, I'm talking to you.
Yeah, you, slut.
Don't give me that inoocent act.
Everyone knows your little game.
Good little girl.
Keep lying to yourself,
But the joke has gotten old for the rest of us.
Way too old.
It doesn't cut it anymore.
Why not justcome out,
And stop pretending to be the sweet angel your mama raised.
Don't you know she's gone?
Your wings shrivelled up and dies a long time ago.
You didn't notice?
What, are you blind or something?
Take off those rose-colored glasses and see the thorns.
They hurt, don't they sweetheart?
They hurt so bad. They make you cry.
Oh how touching. Can I be sick?
What's the matter? Can't you handle it?
I hope you're not a cry baby.
They don't last too long around here, you know.
Life hurts. Get used to it,
Cause you're just beginning the long delightful journey.
Smile.
Smile, damn you.
Grin, laugh; scream with amusement.
It's funny.
It's all one big joke anyway.
That's life.
Isn't it beautiful.
