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

Golden Fleecing

We create our likenesses
Our protege's
Our destroyers, as well

Unaware of what crisis is
The status quo has
Our mortal soul to sell

Smile big for the camera
Gonna' cash in someday
Move up high on the hill

From my luxury manor
You will hear what I say
Now take the magic pill

Soul ripe, precious, for sale
Here's your ticket to rendezvous
C'mon lottery, wag my tail
Fall in line, like dead men do

C'mon six little numbers

E-Man

Dial-up, wireless, D-S-L

Need a vehicle to travel



Hibernate, never sleep


On-line, at the ready


System check, familiar beep,


Blinking light, now steady




In command, mouse in hand


Click and scroll, rock and roll



Shock me, shake me


Splash page wake me



Faster and faster


Feed me disaster



Cyber-freaks in chatrooms


Sportin’ digital costumes


Click a link, in the pink


Pornstars are humpin’


I-tunes are bumpin’


Robots and spam


Freezin’ my cam



Hardware, software, goin’ down fast


Upload, download, pixelated, crash!



Ain’t glithes the bitches?

- Peter Riordan

 June '09