Monday, July 20, 2015

Douglas Polk- Three Poems


behind the veil,
hell exists,
the demons real,
a place babies skulls crushed,
body parts,
sliced and diced,
saved and sold,
prizes to exploit and use,
a profession taught to protect life,
deals in death,
death has deadened the souls,
no thoughts,
of the value of life,
only of organs and tissues,
no thoughts about the pain caused,
the womb,
an organ built for love,
wrenched open in violence,
the act demonic,
and unspeakable,
hell a reality,
ignored and accepted,
in the land of the free.


a candle in the darkness,
shows the way,
flickering in the cavern's breeze,
shadows dance,
pathways illuminated,
then disappear,
false deadends,
or the trail to serenity,
the candle cursed for the uncertainty,
trapping me in the darkness.

Edge of Town

hills touch the heart,
viewed from the edge of town,
aching to run their slopes,
and hide in their trees,
a hermit,
away from the mind numbing control,
preached through television,
and the internet,
be for this,
and against that,
'share' this,
or 'like' that,
"fuck you all",
a voice full of anger,
echoes among the hills,
on the edge of town.

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