emp in freefall

For weeks i've been wanting and trying to somehow make this MUCH more conventionally poetic. But it's not even close and so I'm giving up. So in every literary sense this is a total mess. But i'm putting it up here anyway.


Isn't it just fitting
that in your second sitting
you looked around and found that
that old white collar syndrome
woke up to send you home.
Drones buzzing your shoulder
it couldn't get any colder
but you're still pretending to deny
that Every UNveiled Eye is TELLing you
that it's OH-VERRR.
('oh but that DavidMuir profile
doesn't it SO beguile'
you and your rank and file)

Well sir it was over from jump street
But you were so steeped in your muse's buzz
that you went on dreaming 'I AM the New Order Judge'
and so decreed to bleed the sheep
with sweet delusions in their sleep.
Whatever wasn't broken you fixed
('and forget the rest, it's for the best')
while across the room your dominatrix
poured plastic water in everykids lunch
as you signed a pensive pine 'don't touch
the wine because that's all mine.'

Now once again he clammers and
thrashes about with his beat-up hammer
because the king isn't dead YET is he?
And he needs to look busy
as if it somehow matters

But you see, NOW do you see
that the emperor and his coterie
are all frizzee in suits all threadbare
but-the-sheep-don't-know-dont-care
while his tin-man band
keeps bungling droll in newflung potholes
where old soldiers used to march so proudly
on greenlined streets to the heartbeats
of countless kindred souls....


Dad fold up that flag it's just 'too old'
but soon i'll join you out there in the cold


* Epitaph *

So we're back to where we started
but the freshly departed will still feed
from the same old treats of gangrenous meat
served up on k-street by the brothers gore
and their polihores galore.
Brace for an obscene encore
of post-ethnic pre-epileptic grandmal seizures
as the gods of future-borne leisures
invent new mantoys for all the manboys
that have lost or never had the key....
to the best that used to be.

When truth is buried, it grows. It chokes. It gathers such an explosive force that on the day that it bursts out, it blows up everything with it.
(Emile Zola)

in spite of the fact that this poem easily beats the weirdest and most complicated of someone like Eccer here i still find this a useful post .You seem to point out the freakyness of soldiers who never get a proper chance to enjoy life as they march towards the killing fields or at leadt that's what i see.(the New Order Judge!)
You use many words i have not met before in poetry. But that's only good. I even don't know their meaning always. Surely more questions to come!

amaryn sorry that i didn't reply right away but holiday frenzy is taking over around here

well the part about old soldiers is more about our recent Veterans Day on 11/11 and everything else in that vein.....and it's totally about how the 'New Order Judge' (emperor or 'emp' in the title) just doesn't really give a damn about anything like that, about respecting and honoring traditions, even though he often pretends to.....but sometimes he doesn't even bother to pretend. like during the recent 150th anniversary of Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, one of the greatest and most loved presidential speeches in our history......emp didn't even bother show up.

Potholes are metaphoric for every 'new' thing that emp tries to do but all that he ever accomplishes is to disrespect or corrupt something that's old and exemplary and cherished....like a wrecking ball that's only aiming to destroy instead of build or improve. but now i've probably revealed way too much and so now i may get flamed for this whole thing..

and so i'll explain about 'k-street' bcs that includes 'both sides' and everything in between.....

K-Street is where all of the MONEY goes through in our national politics and it's where all of the pimps and w.hores go when they want to get elected or appointed or get their favorite pet elected to political office.