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.


 

The Circle of Life: The Crocodile's Verse

The Circle of Life: The Crocodile's Verse 

Come little fishes
Adore our golden scales
And smile
It's easy to flit between our claws
To grasp the tidbits...dangled
So enticingly out of reach
I dare you.

And if you fail
You should have swum faster
And if you fall
We will crush you

Come little fishes
Imagine your scales turned to gold
And rejoice
Our riches could be yours
If you work forever
Or win the lottery
We rigged just for you

And if you fail
You should have worked harder
And if you fall
We will crush your family

Come little fishes,
Cry all you like
We don't need to make the water drinkable
Your tears overflow our crystal glasses
We don't need to have the water wadeable,
When sweet oils fill our swamps to overflowing

And if you drown
You should have grown lungs
And if the rivers should fail
We will eat our fill

Come little fishes,
Not much longer now,
Offer your puny lives
And we will give you
Everlasting
Death

A.J.

Part of my Circle of Life series, this began as a simple poem, but keeps on growing. We can do better, we can bring voices to the table, create a more equitable world, but not when we incentivise people to look after money and not people.

1) The Circle of Life
We have let the snakes 

Into the hen house...

2) Circle of Life II (Snakes in the Henhouse)
Too long
We left the snakes in charge of the henhouse...

3) Circle of Life 3: The facts of life
I know you've heard
There's a new snake pimped out on the lawn...

But however dark it may look, there's hope on the horizon. What do they always say?  "it's always darkest before the dawn" Of course in the physical world, we don't all need to battle against the night to have the return of day, but this is a metaphor here...

Have a great week
A.J. Ponder

Fairy Song by John Keats

I.

Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more! oh, weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
Dry your eyes! oh, dry your eyes!
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of melodies,--
Shed no tear.

Overhead! look overhead!
'Mong the blossoms white and red--
Look up, look up! I flutter now
On this fresh pomegranate bough.
See me! 'tis this silvery bill
Ever cures the good man's ill.
Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Adieu, adieu -- I fly -- adieu!
I vanish in the heaven’s blue,--
Adieu, adieu!

II.
Ah! woe is me! poor silver-wing!
That I must chant thy lady's dirge,
And death to this fair haunt of spring,
Of melody, and streams of flowery verge,--
Poor silver-wing! ah! woe is me!
That I must see
These blossoms snow upon thy lady's pall!
Go, pretty page! and in her ear
Whisper that the hour is near!
Softly tell her not to fear
Such calm favonian burial!
Go, pretty page! and soothly tell,--
The blossoms hang by a melting spell,
And fall they must, ere a star wink thrice
Upon her closed eyes,
That now in vain are weeping their last tears,
At sweet life leaving, and these arbours green,--
Rich dowry from the Spirit of the Spheres,
Alas! poor Queen!

And if this isn't enough Fairy Poetry For you, why not go here to my Portal to Fairy Tale Poetry here, and find some of the best Fairy poetry there is.

A.J.

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: Tears

The lines drawn
on flesh
in treacherous codes reveal

The cliffs behind
and the precipiece
falling
below

The bones stacked,
on high
and bleached yellow-blond
in the sun
and the rain
reach
up


The tears shed
as long
as you crunch through bones
brittle as numbers
but never see
them
fall

A.J. Ponder

A cheerful little off-the-cuff ditty this week, just to keep the ball rolling as it were.  I hope you enjoyed it, and if sanity prevails and you found it a little bleak, why not go and cleanse the pallette by visiting some of the fantastic poets on the Tuesday Poetry Hub

All the best and have a fantastic week.
A.J. Ponder