Day’s hours pass to weeks, months, years,
converting sense, from truths to ills;
wickedness fains as evil yeas,
widespread life spoils, death’s stench instills;
established thought succumbs to fears,
garboil mazed, swither riles all ails;
dacnomania, spawns clearness,
guilding’s complicity entails.
 
Coverts produce an oath’s affirm,
in price, deny our world’s support;
rework each mind, toward prime’s firmer,
result, crowds flux woos vast rapport;
life’s feud faux filled, through thieving’s femmes,
flaming rogue spew, drowns vim’s cohorts;
efflorescence, one’s breath aflame,
each truth, belies corrupt consorts.
 
Chicanery is evil’s mien,
beware the smiles, all pundits strain;
academia’s nexus meek,
its body soft, ideal constrains;
calamitous, the borrel’s mean,
resolve unkempt despite complaints;
fault who, blame what, why cross that mete,
on closed ears, fall truth’s lost refrain.
 
Verity, clings to insight pure,
its touch on life mind’s clarity;
plagues, these signs of living unsure,
one sighs at this polarity;
resentment’s rage, deep thoughts inure,
such felt through life’s sincerity;
indicant, this pulse pumping moods,
instills in heart, temerity.
 
Disarray, mind’s sketchy malign,
intense is, its strangling pall;
arduous task in words benign,
to freest an ungrateful thrall;
constrictive trends, minds lost resign,
caput, in what’s rhymed with banal;
retiarius, in truth’s consign,
this thought, the drooling mobs enthrall.
 
Pendentelite, tit for tat,
affeer in self affirmation;
contentious fool, unrighteous tool,
tapped this day for your damnation;
cognizance, miffed the pauper’s tout,
what if life is one’s negation;
questioned thus, your positions thought,
heed this, seek a true vocation!
 
Michael Darrell Walker
 
Thanks 'lil iz’, who can say word slinging with the plebs isn’t inspiring?

(2010)

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