Friday Nite Poetry: Worlds Apart

Abandoned subway

Abandoned subway (Photo credit: phill.d)

 

Hello again, gentle readers. I bring to you a pair of new poems. I will be sliding into, as I am wont to, my social justice mode of thinking for this week.

While I am here, just a friendly reminder that we are having a fundraiser here at Hand of Ananke. You can help out by hitting the donate button there and giving whatever you can. I don’t expect something for nothing, however. Help out with $5 or more and you get a free pdf of my chapbook Delicate Art of Saying Yes, help out with $10 and more and you get that, and can choose between a signed copy of either Ego Codex or Drawing Lines, and if you help out with $20 or more, you get all three. Your help will give me the ability to grow this blog so I can offer you more.

So now to the poetry. I’ve been noticing how we don’t notice those we don’t want to. It is a harsh condemnation and one I need to level at myself now and again. There are so many vulnerable people out there, and we owe it to them, and ourselves, to make the world safer and kinder for them. Both of this weeks poems are about that. I hope you enjoy them, and I hope they get the wheels turning.

Colossus

Stomp on them
crush them
beneath your heel
it matters not
the fear
that they feel

They are specks
or less
and so unclean
a swarm of pests
their lives
you’ve unseen

Give no weight
to their
countless worries
pick one right up
and watch
as he scurries

Amusements
and dolls
you gods’ play toys
pay you no heed
to their
fears and joys

Give no care
to these
husbands and wives
sons and daughters
giving
you their lives

Ghost Town

Walk right through metropolis
vast and active communities
side by side with your own
with rules and norms and history
just as important

Pass right through their streets
lined with busy foragers
coming out from invisible homes
of cardboard and shopping cart
main streets carved deftly
in alleyways and abandoned subways
beyond your eyes

They live on another plane
one you are afraid to acknowledge
much less visit
one you are ashamed to admit
your own hand
in opening up
having shoved them through
the gates of the dead
and damned
because it is easier
than dealing with them
in the real world.

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Friday Nite Poetry: Worlds Apart

  1. Pingback: Friday Nite Poetry: From The Ant Hill To Olympus | Hand of Ananke

  2. Pingback: Friday Nite Poetry: Connections | Hand of Ananke

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