The Monsters are Real

Okay - today's Tuesday Poem on a Wednesday is "The Monsters are Real"
I'm hoping to post some motivational "poetry" soon - so look out for that. :)

The Monsters are Real

What do you do when the monsters are real
and they're not hiding under the bed?

What do you do when the monsters reveal
that they like to play with your head.

It's zeroes and ones
until it becomes
a dance with truth
and deceit.
Tell me, what will you do when faceless suits
dance to their puppeteer's drum?

So what do you do when the monsters are real
and they're not hiding under you bed?

And what do you do when with murderous glee
the monsters complain of civility?

"Oh oysters, pitiful wretches,
come and walk with me
the day is - oh, so hot
and my tears are wet, as wet could be."

Tell me, what will you do now the monsters are real
and they're not hiding under your bed?

Now the gaslight is on
And the bedroom's not safe
Can you see that the monsters are real?
Their words are fair, and their acts are foul,
with tongues are as divided
as the rage they can't keep in their heads.

Will you believe what they say?
Will you believe what we say?
Will you believe it today?
Will the propaganda mess with your head?

Come, will you become a faceless suit -
and dance to their puppeteer's drum?
 
What do you do when the monsters are real -
and the monsters come for your head? 

A.J. Ponder

 A.J. Ponder is the author of Quest - to find out more about Quest, follow this link to Quest on my author website.


 

Chicken

Are all our baskets broken
that we cannot fill them with our eggs?
Are all our chickens coming home to roost
among the snake-filled nests?

Do we have an intrinsic worth?
Are we free to keep our heads?
Or are we nothing more than feathers
to fill a suffocating bed?

Can we see into the future
when our present is so caged?
Can you take the shit they give us
or have you found your rage?

We can tear down those cages

And we can find our worth

And together build a future
The like we've never seen

Or we can crawl back in our cage
And dream of what might have been

A.J. Ponder

Have a great week everybody. Here's hoping we can all rise to the challenges life is throwing us.

“We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art, the art of words.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin

The Silver Sword

Truth
you are a silver sword
with which to slay the dragons.
For though their heads are many
and I cannot take them all
we can share the cutting truth
will you hear its clarion call?

Truth
from all around the world
as women we have spoken. (And men too! And non-binary, but this is a poem!)
We'll cut through the serpent's lies
knowing each is but a token,
then we'll take the fight to the Wyrms of greed
and dance as each head falls.


A.J. Ponder

A slightly more traditional offering this week, even if it's still within a certain theme. Apologies for using every synonym for dragon - because of the different flavour each has. At least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Have a great week, and stay strong. And remember, as Thom Hartman says, #democracy is not a spectator sport.

Articles of Faith: Part 3 Dancing Pirates

Articles of Faith: Part 3 Dancing Pirates

Harden up, and pay me my money down
jibe-ho, harden up to the wind
For there at the port, is a lass who is waiting
jibe-ho, harden up to the wind

it's a hard life,
and we can hard-tack it
it's a free life
so you can unpack it-

Say I can't understand
why you sing the sea ditties
you know that the ocean
will steal all your pretties-

If the pursers' hand's in the pot-
feel free to cut the man down

Harden up, and pay me my money down
jibe-ho, harden up to the wind
But there at the port, the Jollies are waiting
jibe-ho, tack away from the shore

yeah it's a free life,
and we can free-wheel it
it's a short life
and we can die dancing
you take the cutlass
and I'll take the claymore
with a sword in the gut
and at least we'll die free

Harden up, and pay me my money down
jibe-ho, harden up to the wind
For there at the port, is a noose that is waiting-
yeah it's a free life
as free as the rope hangs 
it's a good life
albeit a short one
it's a hard life,
and it's better than starving

jibe-ho, I'm not much for dancing,
but I'm hard now, harder than sin,
jibe-ho, we paid down our money
to dance on the head of a pin.

A.J.Ponder

Alright, as promised, Dancing Pirates.  I'm wondering if I should give a glossary...

 Everything you could possibly need to know about pirates, except a lot less.

Many pirate ships had a code of conduct, known as articles of agreement, often romanticised as the pirate code, harden up is turn toward the wind, sail closer to the wind, the phrase I'm really sad about not managing to shoehorn is is to splice the mainbrace which, surprisingly enough, is to issue the crew with a drink.  According to Mirriam Webster a jibe is: to change a vessel's course when sailing with the wind so that as the stern passes through the eye of the wind the boom swings to the opposite side, which explains why Jibe-ho is the warning that the boom is swinging across the centerline, when a ship is jibing (gybing).

I hope you  enjoyed the poem, and now, instead of the more traditional angels, I'll hope you'll ask the burning question - how many pirates can dance on the head of a pin?

have a great week!
A.J. 

P.S. Articles of Faith PArt 1 and 2 are here http://anafflictionofpoetry.blogspot.co.nz/2015/05/articles-of-faith-part-1-pirates-life.html 

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi 

And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024? https://ko-fi.com/ajponder

 

Tuesday Poem - Hijacked

.
I have a song in my head
insistent as waves on the shore
I have a song in my head
no room for a brain any more

I have a song in my head
musak for the merry go round
I have a song in my head
every beat as my feet hit the ground

I have a song in my head
and it's wearing my patience away...

There's a song in my head
And the sea wont shut up
There's a song in my head
And I can't shut the door
There's a song in my head
Every thought now long dead
There's a song in my head
but I don't care anymore

A..J. Ponder - author page

ok warning. Next week there will almost certainly be swearing. I was thinking I could simply take out the stronger language, and I did manage to remove one. Oh, and last week I forgot to thank Tim, I don't think I could have created Ecila without our little conversation about rhyme :)

P.S. if you find your brain has been hijacked by this poem, I do not promise to give it back. Certainly mine has failed yet to return.