Douglas Polk- Three Poems

Captive

the white house captive to the computer screen,
questions asked,
day after day,
the fires of hell,
biblical fairy tales,
brought to life,
burning out of control,
flesh burned,
heads severed,
demons dance,
hoping the stench eternal,
the white house captive,
and confused,
nightmares fill the long dark nights,
the white house captive,
chained to a reality it doesn't want to see.



Computer Age

time ticks by,
computers racing,
no end in sight,
technology a cruel bitch,
demanding treasure and dependency,
servant enslaving the master,
soon mindless serfs,
only able to serve the machine.



Nowhere

the right side of history,
is a place that doesn't exist,
except in the demagogue's head,
history,
only time,
marked and recorded,
the lessons preached,
of little use,
when moralized and misconstrued,
history then,
a weapon,
used to bludgeon a philosophical foe,
misreading past events to suit the day,
in truth,
either side of history,
is a nonsensical,
nonexistent,
place to be.