Tag Archives: apocalypse

Monday Poems – “The beasts of the East”

The beasts of the East

The beasts of the East rule the land that exists,
With the wisdom brawn gives them and war-mongering fists.
The beasts of the East speak their message quite loud-
They are creatures with features both mighty and proud.
And the beasts of the East have never tasted defeat,
Taking homes, breaking bones and then dining on meat
That these beasts from the East steal from innocent backs
That from behind were blindsided with cowardly attacks.
The beasts of the East take their plunder back home
Spending money on honeys so they’re never alone.
The beasts of the East while they self-glorify
Sense days of slumber are numbered, they have nowhere to hide.
Comet or flood,
Diseases or mud,
The greatest of all shall still fall if they haven’t got love.
The beasts of the East and the least of the Earth,
All have a date with there maker the day they’re covered with dirt.

Monday Poem- “Communist Paint Sniffers”

Communist paint sniffers

Through my black mirror
The doll-faced little zombies
Sang words of adoration
In drugged, monotone grunts and groans of death.
The pasty brittle faces giving hazy little praises
To the God who permitted debt,
Sickness and pestilence.
But their little is big through my black mirror.
They have no home, no gifts, or hope that I can see
As they stand and sing and smile and freeze.
They have no black mirror, no food or drink
Or clothes, family or time to think.
These tiny little zombies smile
As they pray to a God who seems to take a while!
But He gave them what they have (this Lord of hosts),
Not much but they have more than most.
I look into my black mirror and don’t like these kids I see,
Should I help them be set up? Could God actually use me?
But I need to be distracted
And my mirror has apps for that,
so I click away
I guess I’m the zombie now.

Monday poem- “With fury poured out”

With fury poured out

They say the jury is out
But as His fury pours out
God disagrees…

Nature crafts
With fury poured out,
I sit inside and wait for the weather.
Aggressively beautiful
This rain does more
Than any genius in his lab or
Other type of work.
The rain stops and I go outside,
I breathe in the air
And newness holds me there.
My senses are engaged,
My patience has been paid
And I now hold onto
This priceless precious wage-
The air I share with now,
Too valuable to gauge.

The jury is out
Is what we get told
But with fury poured out
The verdict is gold.

Monday Poem: Monster party

Monster party

Turbulent times called for extreme measures…

My species was endangered now
(The final thinking primates),
For most had gave their souls away
In what was the end of days,
When nobody planned for the future
For nobody thought it would come,
We all just believed the newspaper
And the newspaper just made us all dumb.
We thought we were finding some answers
But instead were fighting the truth.
We fought for another man’s reasons
But instead we just gave him our youth.


What happened?

What brought us there?

Likable survivors were few:
If they were kind they were too good to be true.
If they were liars you couldn’t trust what they’d do.
If they were blind then they were probably you.

Did this apocalypse make monsters of men
Or merely expose what was already there?

The dust settled on our double-glazed mask.
We let Love remain still and Rage asked
“Is it safe to trust
Or is hate a must
In this dusty desert wasteland?”
That wasteland we called home
When nobody planned for the present
For nobody thought it would come,
When we all just believed our feed-readers
And the internet made us all dumb…
And the demons all know what is coming
So they soak up their last days in the sun,
For they know in the midst
Of the Apocalypse
That the Lord has the victory won.

Monday Poem- “No World Order”

No World Order

Innovative designers
And gatekeepers of culture
Take on this task
Of our brave new world,
Asking for formula, predictability and data files
Of news readers, geeks and pedophiles
And other upstanding citizens friends.
In a strictly libertarian sense
These things are deviant,
But in a practical sense they are convenient.
However convenient isn’t always good,
Just ask Robin Hood,
Who had all the riches in the world
But still slept out in the woods,
As well us heroes should.

Monday Poem- “Zombie Land”

Zombie Land

None of the taps work willingly,
In this dry and barren place
There’s no memory of clean water
Or of a friendly face.
There’s no hope of finding green now
That the worlds been laid to waste,
No hope of grace or mercy
From this post-human soldier-race.
There’s no dignity or spirit
Within the city gates,
The undead rule the earth now
And our chances aren’t that great.
Still some strive to form community
And to offer warm embrace,
Because when we offer love in the pestilence
We find life where once was hate.

Monday poem- “The Net”

The Net

Their drugs are telephone devices
And looking good
And being thin.
Their drugs are status updates
And wearing clothes
And fitting in…

But when these vapor drugs wear off
What then?

Coming down from the highs of status quos
Is not easy when you do not know
That the fickleness and tiny threads
And wickedness of this fragile web
Give them a larger phone to call from
But an even higher throne to fall from.