Words matter

Words dangled helplessly alone
As letters stranded on an unfinished game of hangman
Unhinged rusty trapdoor drops
Royally flushed into broken clock oblivion
Revisited but once in a lifetime
By the Queen of Hearts
Carrying grocery bagged oodles of snacks
For empty stomached children of a lesser God
Drifting to sleep on concrete saddles
While the dogs of midnight keep the sheep in line
Waiting on the profit’s words to arrive
Devoured by Wall Street wrecked nods
Neatly cleaned up by dust bowl developers
And cleverly rearranged by fire ravaged coders
Into newspeak dreams of yesterday
And it’s as if no one has learned a damn thing
As the shopkeeper turns the sign around in the window

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Way Down South

From On Driftwood and Oblivion

Jaguar spotted trails
Linger, unnoticed
By man’s wasteland
Disturbed machines

Beyond cheese there
Stands the finer arts
But actress Bete
Doesn’t live here anymore

That’s a big damn wall
Water, hold me back
Charred and tethered
Take one from the king

In the gold rush hour
Time stood still
As the rotting corpses
Old and in the way

An emotionless grin
Separated infants
One destined to live
One destined to die

A vanishing act life
On the tearful road
Up from Pedra Branca
The end deceives you

Messages from Pinoty
Poison arrow reply
Peaceful persuasion
Nightmares in the making

Metal birds moan
Then are gone again
Only to return
As blue moons pass on

There is talk of talks
But Sykyry knows better
Her spear tipped eyes whisper
They will come again

And, I’ve already seen that
It doesn’t end well
To be precise
It doesn’t end at all

Read more in the full collection On Driftwood and Oblivion

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The Long March

A poem

I cannot see you, smell you
Or feel you
Yet
I know that you are there
Hanging like thick pollen
After the first breath of warmth
On an early spring morning
Silently stalking
As a thief in the night
Omnipresent as the fear
Of humankind
It is early still
The sun is barely over the horizon
The time of day, though, matters not
This death keeps no clock
It grows and adapts
Dispassionately
Like some kind of AI
Then entering, it asks me a question
Will you adapt and survive?

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Beyond Time and Space

A Lyrical Poem by J.S. Campbell

I saw him standing there, he was calling my name,
I moved to take a look, at the picture in the frame.
In a moment of realization, I recognized my face,
And began my journey beyond time and space.

It was a modern world, full of wonderful machines,
And millions of illiterate slaves, no knowledge on their screens.
And graveyards full of bones, from people who could not keep pace,
Burning through the phones, beyond time and space.

I searched for the green and blue, and found some people who cared,
We gathered in the colors, as others stopped and stared.
We hoped that they would join us, but that proved not to be the case,
They ran us out of paradise, beyond time and space.

We split up there, each going our own way,
Searching like a seed in the wind, for a place to take hold and stay.
I came upon a village, where a man talked about the race,
he was so full of knowledge, on everything beyond time and space.

I felt at home there, I liked listening to the man,
He said we’d play a game of cards, and I’ll tell you everything I can.
He said he’d give me cities and kingdoms, but he slipped himself an ace,
And cast me out into the wilderness, beyond time and space.

I crossed many miles through the desert, and came to a line in the sand,
Beyond it only black and white, I sensed destiny at hand.
I knelt, and I prayed, for God’s knowing grace,
As the picture weathered and aged, beyond time and space.

The latest poetry collection, On Driftwood and Oblivion available now.

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