DEBATE THIS! or (Oops! Orange Butter/Button Fingers Got the Codes)

Asps gather Begin to swarm A rabid lather Unleash a storm

This ain't no Amarosa's disco This ain't no foolin' 'round No time for an amateur demagogue
Looking to take us down Power corrupted absolutely In Satan Trusted, undeniably Beware "the apprentice" has the wand Waves it about like the Taliban With rhetorical sewage masturbates Podium, teevee, church, everyplace His political spewage reverberates Beyond the third-world marketplace Charge, mixed with Ball bearings, nails, broken glass Rips, tears, projects What was human with a splash Corpuscle atomization Fine mist reanimation Post-life realization Ghoul-like manifestations Descend like locusts from our skies Asphyxiated spirits with hollow eyes That accept any desperate orb No matter how maligned and askew Drained being any ghoul may absorb Become them, we, us, me and you Sprouting their Jihad rain New definition of insane Lift heavy lids open Orwellian nightmare come true Quickly closes them again Soon they'll come for you It's coming Times are changing Elements rearranging Who will be left to say We were judged and that was Judgement Day? - Rand Rio September 26, 2016

Schoolboys' Winter Morning

Filigree veil of frost, edging the outline of the picture window, except here in the middle, where the heat register is.  Feeling the rising heat against my cheeks, where I gaze out from the middle of the sofa, catching the rising thermals warm embrace. 

Blue jays, parade of chickadees and sparrows, occasinal cardinal, visit my feeder. The dominant bird of the moment eagerly pecking at the opening, stuffed to a standstill by a seedjam of sunflower seeds, most drop to the snow covered garden below, where the lesser visitors busily munch.

Roads not yet plowed, neither is the driveway nor walkway _ sledding definitely, but first the driveway with dad.

The whistle came at 7am, it's official, "No school!"

The Rest of the Iceberg

We'll emit
Through extravagant antennae
We'll sit
Stare through iridescent red eyes

And we'll gloat.

We'll breathe rarefied air
As we spew, spew, spew

And we'll gloat.

Impatiently, wait for the stranded polar bear
Horizon hovers
Disease prone and ridden
Pleading louder, as our hour draws near

Creations' reward is knowing
Our redemption is at hand
Her hips are moving
She's hot . . .
And finding Her rhythm

Fire and ice
Dance and grind
Dance of the Ages
Our redemption
Her dance
Fire and ice
Grind our toxins away.

__Peter Riordan April 2012              

Photo Credit: Carla Lombardo Ehrlich

5pm

Deeper into the cave
Further into the protective depths
Shelter us
From our hiroshimic self-immolation
Divide our psyche
Leave IT behind
Deny deny
No longer accept anyone
Accept nothing
'Til happy hour comes 'round again
Cheers!

Threshold

Exit one, enter another
Vice versa
Vacillate between the jagged edges
Tear away what we don't need and do
Collapse in a heap, somewhere
But always, always
Reach for the sun!

NOW

Fallen


                                                                         leaf



                       arrives

Whitebread Kaukasia

You know the land
Though we pretend
As hard as we can
That it's of another time, another place.
It's still there_
smaller perhaps
Yet strong like cancer
Radiate it!
Nothing better!
Open the shades
Open the sheds
and barn doors
Our hearts and souls too
Shine_ Let it shine in!
Feeling the healing.
Amen!
-Peter Riordan