The Grand Lie

Pro patria mori

The witless few who clap and cheer,

The pitiless many who laugh and sneer,

And send sons and daughters to be martyrs–

To give their lives for worthless barters.

Pray thee you never have to tell,

Their dear mothers of their last living hell.

War, that cruel game – dreamt by the old,

played by youth, whose bodies are sold

Youth – who live and die and fight,

And watch their youth fade into night.

Who sleep a fitful sleep beneath skies

That burn cruel like a fever that never dies

For all they give, we ask for more,

In this, our headlong match to war.

So smile, you few, who still can–

At the folly of the beast called man.

You witless few, who clap and cheer,

You pitiless many who laugh and sneer,

Pray thee, you never come to know,

The hell to which in life and death they go.

Nevermore, except forevermore

Killer and the Saint: A Novella

Tender flesh, waiting -

For the dropping Guillotine -

Eyes Blank, Wide Open

–     Technicolor Dreams

Chapter 1: Two-Face

The actors of life

Have their frozen smiles trapped as

They wait their cue to

Join its vicious cabaret

-       Technicolor Dreams

Marais, First and Queen Mary, 2057

The frozen hell called winter lingered on interminably; an endless ordeal that was only barely endured. In these parts of the world, 6 months of bone-chilling cold followed by 6 months of sweltering heat had become the new normal. Everyone had long ago gotten used to it.

The man in the black trench coat stood statuesque at the corner of First and Queen Mary Boulevard, his breath visible in the soft, pale, February moonlight. The thin trench coat seemed to envelop him, a tarp over his slight, insignificant figure.

The constant puffs of breath were the only signs of life in the cold, lonely night.

His mind worked feverishly even in the still silence. His eyes carefully scanned the landscape while he retrieved memories of happier days, hidden in the tombs of distant time.

Of Lost and Forgotten Trains

Locomotion

Where does the locomotive go...

what does the locomotive do...

when life takes away its stations,

and fate steals its tracks?

It breaks free...

Of Grief and Relief

Heavy Seas

Thunderstorms of life and love,

Pregnant with meagre relief - 

rain upon this scorched

and parched earth

Storm coming. Batten down the hatches!

Of Reality and Fantaseas

Perchance to Dream of Electric Sheep

Fuzzy as dreams

seen from miles away - 

Trapped within the seams

of who I am but cannot say.

'Snared in a fortress so digital, 

analog won't let me go.

Yet - like a lost boy so mythical,

I wait. For a yesterday, I do not know.

World, Out of Focus 

Writer's Note: Re-edit of an older piece to attain a proper abab rhyme scheme. An ode to feeling out of place, an ode to time, out of joint.

Of Sticks and Stones, and Broken Bones

Superhero

The sticks and stones are broken,

and the dirt is in your eye

but the heart has spoken

and it will ne'er die

Fright(ful) night
When love was lost

Howling Winter Wind

Fury

Winter's howling winds

Blow the Old Man's deepest breaths

into weary lungs

Something to talk about, a Story to tell...

The Outcome, if you so choose it.

This is a true story. For what that’s worth, and what difference that makes, is anyone’s guess.

The World is a strange place, populated mostly by strangers and strange people.

This is not a perfect world. It is the world we have – often devoid of reason and empathy; a world without solidarity; an unfair, often cruel world.

It is not a perfect world, but it is the world we have.

Before, I launch into my story, some perspective might be important. The thoughts that follow are mine and mine alone. I would not dare speak for anyone else.

Starlight (A Serialized Novella): Part One - The Lost and Damned

The stars of life shine

As bright as supernovas

As dark as black holes

– Technicolor Dreams 

Chapter 1 – The Lost and Damned

Helicopters fly

In single file across a

Dream’s barren landscapes

– Technicolor Dreams

In the austere, almost sterile main library in the DATUS Space Cadet Academy, Anthony Van Neuzer sat, preparing diligently for his COMPS Exams. A hum of activity buzzed around him, faceless fellow Cadets and support workers on the floating space ship they all called home, flittered back and forth; doing everything and nothing, simultaneously, and at the same time. He had no difficulty ignoring the sound and noise and fury. He’d had a lot of practice. 

A Dream, fulfilled, but still a lot to do

I finally took the plunge and decided to compile all my poetry in an easily accessible format. Self-publishing in E-book format with Amazon seemed like the simplest and most efficient way to do this, and I'm fairly pleased with the results. It may not be perfect, but it's a dream fulfilled and it's a good start.

Download early and download often. I hope you enjoy

Technicolor Dreams: Circumnavigate to Yourself