Consequences

The years continue to fly by,
casual acquaintances, fleet of foot,
a dimple in time, of no consequence.

We are positioned to  respect authority,
to believe in the system, hide behind
its pseudo shield of  protection.

For order, for the nation’s good.
thus the mind is plowed, sowed
with the seeds of social control.

Beggar of the greedy, manipulators,
fear forged in lies and corruption,
we grow older more complacent.

Place one foot in front of the other,
toe the mark, walk the path, stay
in line, don’t complain, be a patriot.

Watch the shadows created for you,
there is a man behind the curtain,
he runs the show, you have a ticket.

The theater never closes, the show
continues, you are a seated actor,
participant in your own demise.

Wrapped in a shroud of cultural cloth,
buried in a coffin of political dogma,
one cannot escape the future.

What will be is ordained, contemptuous,
manacled, shackled by religion,
society’s boundaries, doomed.

Our beliefs, poisoned by labels
marking others different from us,
shallow humanity lacking compassion.

When you are poured back
into the cusp of creation, what
part of you will you leave.

What will honor your life, how will
consequence have made a difference,
will the hell you left, follow you.

©2015, Donald Harbour

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A political barnyard

The barnyard political pastures
are being rutted by feral swine.
Their heads foul with their own droppings,
snouts coated with mendacious swill.
They are gluttonous hogs eating garbage
tossed by Praetorian money changers.
Bloated guts rumbling with putrid dogma
baked in billionaire board rooms.
The mindless population of poultry pecking,
squawking, strutting, satisfied by jowl crumbs,
Chickens accepting what ever is left
clueless about their ultimate plucked outcome.
Together they breathe contaminated air
ignorant of the poison they inhale.
There are squabbles over pigweed,
pearlwort, purslane, petty feedlot growth.
Attention to the triviality of life, ignoring
their ultimate fate, a slaughterhouse.
When they are gone they leave only
the waste of their pitiless passing.
Another layer of manure awaiting
the next generation’s contribution.

©2014, Donald Harbour

Humanities legacy

For a moment I felt panic,
reaching in mankind’s pocket I found,
not a spiritual coin there,
not a cent to our name,
thus it occurred to me,
how will humankind be valued ,
what decides its weight in gold,
a child collecting for the hungry,
a minister begging for his church
a greedy banker holding forth for more,
a politician sending youth to die in war,
corporations queuing up for contracts of death,
what stain decides our existence value,
how does life weigh the human soul
is the evil of mankind more weighted,
than the purity of love and kindness,
has humanity so lost its way, that
it has become a pox upon life.
and what will give worth to it,
what will weigh its soul against destiny,
will nature turn her back on us,
lack forgiveness for our transgressions,
humanities castigation of lesser creatures,
defiling creation the essence of the eternal,
how can we find the worth of humanities name,
how will we be defined by the Celestial,
will our name become parasite, pariah,
carnivore of the cosmos, succubus,
vandal of the weak, the less fortunate, poor,
I fear our name is Dante’s king,
I fear we have grown cloven hooves,
the defilers of all that is good,
perverting spiritual beliefs,
and yet, there is a dime left,
it shimmers in the pool of tomorrow,
waiting to be grasped and spent,
a dime for our salvation, redemption,
will we spend it wisely, give it worth,
will it decide how mankind will be remembered,
finding value on the scales of the universe,
or will we be come curious fossils,
studied by our world’s next experiment.

©2014, Donald Harbour

 

Dim wits

Who knew we could fly?
Personal hygiene disregarded
a trans Atlantic flight ballistic
canard of contemporary constipation.
Bowels squeezed into corseted
over priced buckets of insanity.
There are no complaints,
the man is in cahoots with airlines,
you have paid to become a victim,
Undressed by over paid nematodes,
parasites of society dignified.
The jihadist have won and you do not
know it, their torture, confinement.
Searing the skies in aluminum tubes,
rebreathing your neighbors exhalent,
gimbiled by the rules, land of the free,
home of the brave, bullshit.
You are cattle giving in to the
Gestapo of democracy’s bureaucratizes,
it’s their job, you damn dim wits.
You have been sold a patriotic
bill of goods, and we are less for it.

©2012, Donald Harbour

Avariciousness

there is Every Man who walks the long mile
plodding upon the graveled road of judgement
his feet bearing the casualty of avariciousness
a non-complaining man of simple means
he is compelled to perform a supplication
those that hold his means and manner
those that demand his dominion
graze upon his meagreness and humility
no thought given to plight or pain
their demand the holy gospel of exchange
they are fore bearers of blood sucking lice
infecting insects of societal woes and want
these modern-day temple money changers
the constant corporate foot upon the neck
they are the intentional squanders
the desiccation of a nation’s soul
yet they persist by manipulated taking
everything that is evil persists in them
their noose that delivers the pound of flesh
is the corpus of monetary foundation
the man is Every Man Every Woman Every Child
his burden the harlots of finance
yet the man is blind to the casualty of lies
his feet bloodied from the long walk
he struggles as the distance grows greater
and the lie becomes a truth denying his dream.

©2012, Donald Harbour