Feudal compromise.

Xenophobia frequently visits 

The land that I live in

"They take our jobs"

Is ignorance I hear

so much hatred propaganda with fear

Immigration a necessary need

a world at war with a wanton feed

should they die to feed our greed?

I sometimes cry and feel their heed

Children are innocent

Children deserve to be loved

Even Syrian ones 

Humans left to die 

there a rotting corpse

wealthy fat leaders agree

to another lie.

Parents have given up 

on dreams and hopes

I'm sure he would do something 

If he could 'The Pope'

there is too many we cannot cope.

Together country leaders could reach inside to alter the course 

of the rocky slope.

No together they Bomb 

together they kill

Innocent suffer

It's not a joke

The Gathering

After the gathering, where life used to be abundant, once a population explosion, food became scarce, rich became poor, now humans were a redundant species. they lay dead, carcasses sprawled everywhere, rotting flesh, a fowl stench in the air, not one person even cared.

The gatherers, lords of wealth, considerable geniuses, a class of scientists, masters of stealth

they designed machines, dedicated eradicators of mankind, 

computers in human skulls;

resonating mind

skelebots, laser guns in hand, 

a back up button claims 'stop', 

when the time is right, 'Stop'

machines drop without a fight.

Bots, agile, articulate, skilled  to self repair, humanity is a mistake, they will fix the error, with an instant terror

starting a new world order

creating machines by the thousands modern styled slaves, the geniuses thought with arrogance on their faces

soon the world will be rid of the human race, protecting only man capable of keeping the pace.

rest, there is none, men sleep no more, 24 hours of machines that are at war

they are strong, need no rest

not evil, yet calculated to the core

ridding the world of the human bore

binary logarithms, calculating the final score. Killing for killing from door to door.

Below the Surface

If I scratch the surface,

would I find an itch?

or would I find a chasm

corroded by a bitch

either them be true 

my conscience it doth say

just stick a plaster on it

we'll look another day

It ends when it comes

A weakened soul replicates an owl 

concerned this delicate branch will fail

lay still, perturbed to retrace

today's shift a far off place

eventually will arrive in its own time 

if one awakens to save face

A constant sorrow known too well

frequently isolated constant spell

not to mention that fateful word

down in the dungeon unheard

way down where the brave men go

sleep will come, when?, they hear you so

don't be ridiculous, no man will know

Memories trace back, looking forward

A piece in the middle, a quizzical walrus

cutting through ice a piece at a piece

life's not forever it's only on lease

a day past an hour, aquire some sleep

everything ends in black 

Magnus

                          

                        Saw it

                    all in one day

             a vibrant view at noon     

        fifteen revolutions of New York 

     one hundred and thirty three days 

     alone on a deserted space station   

 Sahara dessert craves attentive yelloW

   the stars come out at night to sparkle

    relevantly radical and awe inspiring 

       electrical engineer remarkable

           sts -112, 2002, neemo 11

                  specialist system

                      sts - 119

                        

Damn Garden

Autumn is here,

once again my garden is covered in leaves, you see it's surrounded by trees,

every November I pick them up,

every November I pick them up, 

every November I pick them up,

I could have been a singer, a roofer, I could have been the man fixing your computer, but that damn garden is covered in leaves, so I better pick them up, while I'm down on my luck.

Ghosts in the past

Curb your enthusiasm 

how dull is a wrench

silver sparkle within the black

relieve the pressure off his back

rusty cart requires oil, a ponies last trek

closed yet spirits remain on the track

Curb your enthusiasm

how dark a town be

kept alive with death, no returning muscle

white skin, a shower put in 

vegetable soup, you're off the grisle

a monument built of steel to last 

the ghosts are far off in the past

Curb your enthusiasm 

Robin of sherwood, oh Nottingham sigh

it was inevitable!, treacherous scum cry

the day must end, so doth the year

so scatter wide, thy noise round fire 

open a tin, settle in and have a beer

the rich have Christmas

our spirit died here.