Thanks to all who contributed their words and works to create this spot for the poets at AVfM. Keep ’em coming. -PE
Gender War
By Uma Challa
Ding Dong Bell
Frog in the well
She pulled his hair
You think it is fair?
He screamed his lungs out
As he was being thrown out
Who goes to jail?
It’s Johnny, without fail
Oh what a nasty bitch you are
To gloat on a gender war!
———-
Nothing Really Matters
By Kevin Carr
In the end,
nothing really matters
except for the mistakes
and petty weaknesses
brought to surface
by exhaustion or dismay.
What is done is done,
payment is forever
without exception.
No excuse is good enough,
no nonjudgmental stance
acts as shield
from the judgments
of the never judged.
No forgiveness is forgiven,
no supporting stand
for those that fail or fall
is left unpunished
by abandonment,
or remembered
when the gavel falls.
What is sown is reaped
regardless of intent,
no fertile compost
will bring nourishment
to soil razed
in accidental flame.
No supporting act
will be repaid
in currency or kind,
the wheel turns around
with cold vengeance
ready to annihilate.
No escape is possible
from the bonds of history.
No price or premium
insures against the past,
no payment is enough
to allay a liquidation
earned by failure.
———-
In Exorcism
By Nergal
Her eyes tell lies that only you can hear
lulling you to sleep before she disappears
And upon her hands is the blood of a child
She says she’s an angel, but her wings are defiled
Her mouth is a pit, it has teeth of steel
Chewing your soul til you’re unable to feel
Cast upon the screen is a dying lamb
It writhes and bleats in the theater of man
When the sedatives drain into your veins
momentarily blotting out the pain
memories of snakes that crawl into your bed
Dance like the sweet angels that crawled into your head
Her lips are the color of adultery
drawing you inside until you cannot breathe
You struggle in the snares but you can’t break free
She calls you a monster,but she knows it’s envy
In exorcism,in nomine Dominis, EGO dico super Lucifer ut orior oriri ortus quod recipero vitualamen.
The smoke of the gun sculpted in your hand
it’s the only way out before it ends
And upon the clock is the face of her doom
A matter of time before the evil consumes
Oh, little snake only I can forgive
wipe your slate clean to absolve you of this
Your tear-stained face is a mask and excuse
Your little ticket to help explain the abuse
She crawls like a worm,but scaly and dry
shedding off her husk like the tears in her eyes
And baring her teeth when she slithers away
I turn to my angel, and I kneel to pray
In exorcism,in nomine tenus Principatus , EGO dico super Lucifer ut orior oriri ortus quod recipero vitualamen.
———-
The cost of freedom
By TDOM
The words run ‘round my head
What the poet* once said
“Find the cost of freedom buried in the ground”
It’s arisen from the grave
Taken the form of a slave
And once paid cannot be found.
Wars fought in its name
Still try to proclaim
The cost is not so high.
Yet freedom itself is the price to be paid
To conceal the government’s lie.
Communism, drugs, organized crime
Excuses, none sublime
For theft of liberty and justice from some
If accepted mean slavery for all.
*Stephen Stills
