All posts by soitgoes1984

I grew up in a small, picturesque New England town. I've spent some time at sea. I've spent some time at war. I've been arrested a few times for civil disobedience. I've traveled a bit. I now live off the grid on a farm on a small, rural Hawaiian island with an amazing woman I met along the way. I write when I need to, sometimes because I enjoy it...mostly just to stay sane.
Afghanistan, america, american dream, Bethlehem, collateral damage, death, dreams, drones, empire, fire, freedom, Gaza, god, Grapes of Wrath, human rights, humanity, Iraq, Jesus, peace, poem, Poetry, propaganda, refugees, refugees welcome, religion, suicide, Syria, truth, Uncategorized, Vietnam, violence, war

33

The wind’s whispers are drown out

by screams and shouts

broken dreams, no doubt seem

the end is near

awash with tears

and years and years will pass you by

what dreams did come abruptly die

and cry and sing farewell to pain

and dance and stumble in acid rain

all that remain now rot and rust

ashes to ashes

and dust to dust

and winds blow truth from dying tongues

but void of proof

with smoke filled lungs

and coffee black

and crack the code

and heart attack and gravel road

we found Tom Joad all out of breath

the preacher man led him to meth

but Jesus freaks don’t speak for him

they leave him hanging from a limb

with nails and pails to catch the wine

heres silver coins, pay Caesar’s fine

we burn the flesh and worship dust

who is this God in whom we trust?

We lust for treasures, fortune, fame

we’ve broken rules of every game

and its a shame we cannot see

that we all hang from the same tree.

 

Roman legionnaires are we,

shouting ‘freedom isn’t free’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

anxiety, circus, collateral damage, death, depression, dreams, history, human rights, oil, poem, Poetry, red wine, Uncategorized, war

Mountains & Oceans

The weight starts adding up

the moment the lights go out

and dreamland arrives,

the weight piles up

minute by minute

hour by hour

pound by pound,

until around the time

the sun rises

until around the time

the roosters start to crow

it feels like a mountain

it feels like an ocean

it feels like the universe

holding you down

crushing your body

crushing your spirit

crushing your will to…

will you just get up already!!!

and its already 7…

and its already 8…

and you’re already late

but can’t lift the weight

wish this mountain would crumble

so at least you could try

to stumble out from the darkness

but there’s no lifeline

you’re all alone in this coal mine

eating dead canaries

trying not to starve

using broken bones to carve

love letters to dead sinners

but the saints will eat

our hearts for dinner

lets load coal in carts

and hope it starts

to burn

Ash Wednesday comes

our stomachs start to churn

start to crave blood-red wine

and midnight walks with Patsy Cline

and a gallon of moonshine

and a fine pine box

now it’s too late for TED Talks

and the doves are dying

to be hawks

and one fish,

two fish,

red, white, and blue fish

and cable or dish

and tossing coins

pollutes the well

I wish I weren’t here

you’ll see me in swells

get swept away

hell or high water

drown any day

will grandma still pray

and will the cows still lay down

when it rains

will the fresh white paint

hide the stains

will the sweet red wine

clog the drains

plant sugarcane

to sweeten the deal

sell liquor and coke

theres mass appeal

all mirrors and smoke

and polished steel

and bullets and pullets

and brooding hens

and methlabs and rehab

and a blurry lens

looking back on history

wash it clean like Listerine

and what’s it mean

red hands seem clean

when oils like water,

how can we ween?

and have you seen the mountains

of bones and dreams denied

and oceans filled

with all the tears

a billion eyes have cried

the universe has endless love

but all they preach is hate

while blind men start to argue

the elephant storms the gate

she ran away from the circus

too many lions and stale bread

the tightrope snapped

the jester clapped

the prophets left for dead

and now red, white, and blue

form puddles on the floor

since mountains grow

and oceans flow,

leave flowers at the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

american dream, poem, Poetry, Uncategorized

Progress

we’re not ready to let go

and enjoy the show

and watch the player piano

with dancing ghosts

raising toasts to machines

and green screens

and Mean Joe Green

pass me a bottle

or a box of wine

hurry up and dine

feeling strangely fine

until they print the obit

we were too legit to quit

could have wrote another hit

should have won with all that wit

might have stood, preferred to sit

now we wait on marble rye

broken dreams too young to die

pretend that we’re too tough to cry

but the tears fall

and the years crawl

and the beers call

and fears all that’s left

and here we are, bereft

and it wasn’t a dream

but a Ponzi scheme

we’re cheering for

the losing team

its coffee black,

we’re out of cream

things are seldom

what they seem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Daily Memories

Memorial Day…

soitgoes1984

so, it’s Memorial Day

sales

again

and I remember

when Cub Scout packs

would take up the back

of the parade

and families would struggle

to find shade

along Main Street

in late May

with temperatures rising

we shuffled our feet

to the beat

of drums

back when

Vietnam Vets

were still

considered bums

by the Veterans

of the second great war

and, oh say

I can see more

Cub Scouts

getting ready to be

all that they can

be

and I can clearly

see

children being recruited

young minds being polluted

memorize these lines

pledge your allegiance

and fall in line

and left

right

left

and it’s time

to fight

now set your sights

on brown skin

and although it’s killing

its not a sin

and I command you

ten more push-ups

and hurry the hell up

and wait

and this is your fate

a decade down

the line

salt

View original post 473 more words

poem, Poetry, Uncategorized

Dog Named Melon

 

final folly

not so jolly,

bird named Polly

watching Mike and Molly

and Melon the Collie

was hit by a trolley

so, melancholy

Ivy and Holly

drunk in Bali

watching Wall-E

Hello, Dolly

hot tamale

deadly volley

who you gunna call?

home watching basketball

or shopping at the mall

as London’s bridges fall

and Roman buildings burn

extra, extra

although you can read

you will never learn

consumed by your greed

no flowers, all weeds

sun dials never turn

still waters never churn

and we cannot unlearn

though our friends might

feel the Bern

for now

we must adjourn

and trust in rust

and dust to dust

and lust for finer things

as Polly sings for crackers

kids mine diamonds

for your rings

which brings us back to the beginning,

back when Adam snitched on Eve

let us not believe in fairy tales

lets give mothers time to grieve

between the volleys

of the hellfire we light

Columbus broke the looking glass

to keep the Arawak out of sight

we do not see you

your pigment blinds our eyes

if we all share

one collective soul

every day,

it slowly dies

but it has long been dead

break bread,

leave it to mold

the taxes we keep paying

make dame sure

kids won’t grow old

we keep doing what we’re told

though we know it’s wrong

and have all along

we’re afraid of saying no

we’ve perfected stop-and-go

or red light-green light,

call it what you will

we will never disobey

that shining city on a hill

or shining badges free to kill.

Not much has changed since Emmett Till

free will gone

eyes glued to a screen

and oil spills

and happy pills

we’re hooked on gasoline

and we keep driving

around and around we go

we run over unseen millions

just so war stocks can grow

I’ll show and tell you

that we have lost our way

it took an orange clown to scare you

so theres nothing more to say…

we are an empire

hail Caesar once again

just like Caesars before him

subjects, we have long been.

poem, Poetry, Uncategorized

Soul

It’s the soul

of America

its the sold

to America

it’s fools gold

in America

glittering soldiers

sold stories

red, white,

and blue

broken glory

same old story

sell your soul

for American

dreams

chase Dragons

and scream

from Blue Ridge Mountains

and stolen Black Hills

into Babylon’s rivers

our soul spills

ashes to ashes

no cheap thrills

fill the Euphrates

and Tigris

create Hades

and die for this

hell inside

of our minds

we fell off the hill

no rewinds

we don’t shine

we dine with feral dogs

and vultures

feasting like fat hogs

on demonized cultures

in our eyes

you won’t see God

our soul was lost

and we’re a fraud

forging God’s will

claiming she would support us

still, we erect statues

saluting our slave-owning heroes

claiming they’re all better

than Nero

as they preach fear

and go from palace

to palace

singing and laughing

sipping blood from the chalice

dripping with hate

overflowing,

it’s fate

they say

God, she’s day to day

so now we must stay

the course

though we put the wagon

before the horse

we will catch the dragon,

achieve our goal…

maybe America

never had

a soul.