Selected Poems from 2004

© 2004. Poems by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved. POETIC JUSTICE A gang of vandals who for want of talent prey upon the throwaway thoughts of a poet Only to find their deranged effort leads them blind to a perilous place of self-torment FREEDOM Freedom a tongue of fire stolen from the gods to lash against the lofty by the will of a foot soldier Freedom a light of truth in a world oppressed by darkness a beacon for the sailor on a stormy sea of corruption Freedom a daring heart compelling the dissenter to selfless acts of protest against an army of assassins Freedom a soothing song known best by the angels yet aspired to by mortals that they may too have glory MY MEAGER MEAL My meager meal a prize for dogs sustaining only animal servitude A soaring heart shot down by fleshly gunners to crash and bleed on jagged stones of reckoning leaving life above a wistful dream My slice of bread food for doves who know only freedom Their lofty perch a gloating fortress against the howling loner imprisoned by free will to commandeer a bench outside the soothing shelter of his own flock THE CENSORSHIP CYCLE A child guiltily closes toy bunny's eyes before first bite of Easter treat AMERICAN PSYCH The Paxil rash raw and red is cured by cream the doctor said And when skin turns to ghostly white a spot of makeup hides the blight And when you find you still are blue there's always neck to give lasso THE JILTED ONE The jilted one his love returned by savage scorn ill-conceived affection lost like paper cups on stormy currents his touch reduced to canine self-soothing his open heart now more a gaping grave A SPREADING SORROW a throat worn raw the ice-pick hole from ear to ear phlegmatic agents infiltrating turning tissue to rotten waste how like the bug the proud one's leer infecting all with vicious compromise how wide the wound the fallen flock their hideous bleating a spreading sorrow like gushing blood MY SMOKEY DREAM My smokey dream a gasp of pain issuing forth from lungs made lame to rise and curl and form the cloud that hangs above like Death's own shroud My smokey prayer a song unheard with naught but vapor for its word to dissipate before the ear of Providence Her skies to clear TRUTH Truth a temptress eyes away lest fallen curtain blind you certain that evildoers have their way with self-abusers worldly losers Truth a torturer whip in hand to test the stripes that you can stand Tested, tortured, paralyzed, the thinker falls to depths unwise REALITY Only the ghastly ghost can see with clarity our futile lot his flesh a faded memory and all that once misguided it And while we run from haunted home the malady of fear remains a heart-borne burden sinking soul beneath the somber stone-marked plains HEINOUS HACKERS Heinous hackers, vicious victors, JavaScripters quoting scriptures Now I start to see the picture How the rich are growing richer How the sick are falling sicker How a pawn is called a saviour Heinous hackers! Vicious victors! Who's the priest? Who's the pastor Leading us to grave disaster At the hands of pious bastards? I run fast, they run faster Color fades to alabaster Voice a broken ghetto-blaster Lucifer must be the master! He's the priest! He's the pastor! BRING ON YOUR ARCHERS Bring on your archers, fellow bards, My chest invites their plunging pain For what is time without a wound to give it measure but inane? Bring on your terror, beloved foes, I'd rather run for want of aim than play an idle waiting game my heart is filled with triumph new I owe it most of all to you The Barrier The barrier that breaks my will as waves against its stalwart stones does not but spend its own strength now for I have broken my own bones I rise self-crippled before the mass a ghastly sight for all to wail and in so doing cruel reef pass to fetch the sun from yonder dale FOR SOMETHING NEW For something new I offer all this time my pledge to stand up tall My cringing foes bring sneaking spies to plot my moves with beady eyes But terror fades against my cause my passion sailing past the pause That once imprisoned this bold soul from crossing depths to reach his goal FOR SOMETHING NEWER For something newer now I write my former words a curse to spite Unchanging truth is hard to fashion in myriad ways by mortal passion The howling wolf, his tired song is sung anew against the wrong Of dark oppression and of greed a cause to fill his lonesome need THE CROSS OF CRUELTY Hang now your Christ of torment Upon the ugly swastika you wicked Pharisees Compassion is rewarded to those who would not spurn it but love the enemy Your cross of cruelty sickens Your wall of ignorance thickens How dare you preach Forsake a life eternal For tongues of fear infernal Are more within reach APRIL FOOL: A REALLY WEIRD POEM "Overboard soul!" cried the patrol Seeing a swimmer tossed by a wave "Throw out the line!" came siren's whine, lengthening hours to a sure grave "I've got a bite!" shouted Fisherman Kite, vigorously reeling, trophy to win "It's not a jewel but a dull April Fool," said all at once "Let's throw him back in!" MY WINTER MAPLE This tree is in tree heaven now. I heard it was cut down by the new owners of my parents' house. This morning a damp bestowal fell upon my winter maple reducing it to shivering disgrace A sparrow took shelter hapless in crippled arms thin and leafless till strength was won a skyward path to face And Springtime is round the corner And you will live to cross the border that separates accomplishment from dream So stand strong let nature nourish and suffer now that green may flourish my sappy friend amid a somber scene Civility Proponents of stability Who legislate senility Claim freedom's full ability As bowing to civility Fraternity/sorority Endowing with authority That by hand of conformity A textbook singularity May bridge a class disparity: The summit of hilarity The plummet of vulgarity Set forth by others, not by me, By slaves who tell me I am free RAUNCHY RYE raunchy rye drink it and die INVOLUNTARY KNAVE-SLAUGHTER 'You can't say that,' they said, those words reserved for dread: a widely published taunt to resurrect and haunt with every clumsy aim at literary claim by unprotected game for serial killer's shame Forgave the error once but now of all the stunts the killer's timeless place you once again disgrace So may you wear his face that we may him erase by sending to your grave involuntary knave © 2004. Poems by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.
Scripts	Songs	Statements