Poetry Compilation XV: The Fallen Ones

Poem 1: Lonely Ace of Spades

Out there is a lonely card,
deeply caked in dusty flakes.
Last time I had seen this card,
my hand was lost in rising stakes.
By the end I could not see
where this precious card could be;
so lost was I in enmity.
Where’d it go?
I don’t know…
Forever lost within the shade,
my lonely ace of spades.

Poem 2: indivisual

Suppose I was a millionaire
born in a mansion without a care,
sitting pretty in the lap of luxury…
would you notice me?

Suppose I had naught to my name
but a couple of cents and a cracked cane,
and I lived a life of poverty…
would you talk to me?

What if I were a doctor?
A murderer?
A construction guy pot-hole filler… er?

A lawyer?
A dentist?
Perhaps a psychiatrist?

Would any of this
even matter to you?

I suppose not.
Why would it?
You don’t even know I exist.

To you, I’m invisible…
just another individual
indivisible from the crowd.

Well… It doesn’t matter.
At the end of the day,
we’ll both head off our separate ways.

Sorry if I’m being too loud.

Poem 3: The Weary Salesman

Every day I wake up weary,
tired of the same old story.
Faces old and new approach me,
asking if I offer credit:
they shall not receive it,
for I deal only in cold hard currency.
In stock I’ve got lamp oil and bombs,
a rope or two as well,
for I know these wares sell.
It’s a cruel world out there,
but still I carry on,
for there’s much work left to be done.
What fun is there in living
if I can’t make a living
getting richer every day
off those in need who come my way?
I wouldn’t have it any other way,
’cause in the end, my friend,
I know they’ll always come back to me
with their precious rubies.
I know I’ll keep earning,
’cause where else could they turn?
No other fools would dare to stay
in this accursed place of evil.
None but me.
You want to live?
Stop by my shop,
and you’ll receive
the tools you need,
as long as you have enough money.

Poem 4: Kingdom of Shadow

On a golden throne sits his royal majesty,
a shell of the wise man he once used to be.

Once a benevolent king,
his heart’s grown dark as ink,
splattered in the shadows
cast from absolute authority.

Now he rules a land which only barely survives,
where weeds preside and summer never arrives.

Poem 5: Grand Old Oak

There once was an oak in a great oak forest,
oh a grand old oak was he.
With verdant leaves and sturdy bark,
he was the tallest of all the trees.
Folks from miles around came to gaze,
such a marvel was he to see.
Such a shame, then, that one day,
the great lumberjack Paul Bunyan came his way.
He took one look at this towering oak
and with his mighty axe he took
swing after thunderous swing…
until at last the greatest oak fell from grace.
Now he rests aside a fireplace,
in the abode of ox and man,
wondering when he’ll see the sky again.

Poem 6: singularity

the constructs of our existence…

but delve far enough into the darkness,
and both ideas become meaningless…
shredded into an incomprehensible mess.

left is right…
up is down…

when all roads lead to
the same destination,
direction becomes meaningless.

cats are made of trees
two plus two is three
poetry is history
science is imaginary

order is chaos
the light is the darkness

fire is air is water is earth
everything is nothing and everything

north is south and east is west
pineapple pizza’s the worst and the best
Schrodinger’s cat is both living and dead
everything’s real and it’s all in your head

don’t you see?
there’s no logic in anything…
reason has no meaning
so reject humanity
embrace cosmic oblivion
and lose yourself
inside the singularity