Already Become?

                                                                        Arabesque ~ Philip Brent Harris


Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength,  Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment


Rabid illness,
rampant decrepitude,
lead us
into paranoia
and poverty,
callous disregard.

Pure greed,
stolen chances
in small steps,
missive bites, bytes.
Grabbing what?
Anything they want,
as though
it is theirs
by right
or mystic rite.

Cast your bones,
wave feathers,
odds and ends.
Seek arcane power,
at midnight,
any hour.
Darkness hides
our fright,
our trepidation,
Covers the sound of
their sick laughter.

Hoping against  hope,
longing to know
the secret.
Wrest the prize,
the surprise
you know
has been hidden
from you.
Fiery dawn,
hellacious day,
moonless run,
sewer life,
death too soon.
Darkness at noon.

Menhirs and monoliths,
arcane ages past,
revealed, laid bare,
to you, for you,
at last.
Rain and tides,
time’s river quickens.
Blood flows red.
flight or fright?
Dragged along by
raging rapids,
into the whirlpool,
torn, tattered.
Grasping at threads,
slim chances,
drugs and trances.

Weave, madly
Muses and Fates.
Altered states,
warp and weft,
as our tapestry
grows before us,
unravel behind.
Meaningless clues,
tears and years,
lean times,
peace and plenty.
What would we pay
to possess
that which
is already ours?
Sea and stars,

Each, in its day,
in its season,
clouds, mountains,
trees, grass and bees.
no rhyme, no reason.
Merely pieces
Ingredients melded
To conceive us
Our domain
Hurled through space
Life’s confection.
A savory morsel
we would,
some way, ensorcel.

Would we, to have
and to hold, grasp,
consume with gusto,
rife, robusto.
And yet, we,
self-appointed chefs,
have been stinted.
They have eaten
all the butter
and the meat.
Key ingredients,
without which
it’s dumpster fodder,
tasting foul.

Empty calories,
garbage and detritus.
Blight our plight
missing ergs,
in great cities, bergs,
and suburbs.
Falling flat
upon our faces.
Without trace, lost races.
life polluted, stained,
Strife and strain.
Held hostage
by our lack of resolve.
We pillage and rape,
commit mayhem, murder,
ransacking our home,
assassinating ourselves.
Are we lacking choice?
Take a chance,
toss the dice,
raise your voice.

Drown the drum’s
the trumpet’s blat.
Harsh clarion call
to war, to hate.
Can we save ourselves,
Are we already become late?


Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength,  Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment


Please, leave a comment and let me know what you think.

See more of my creative offerings and opinions at:

Brent Harris Fine Art

Philip Brent Digital Art

Vida Voices

Scriggler TPM

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