” Truth is better than a cover – up ” – everyday poetry 114

today @ Wellness Works, we were talking, and a Veteran said the truth is better than a cover up, and there it is, our prompt for todays writing. So we Veterans and our fearless leader, Leilani wrote, here is what came out of my head. Because it was so heavy i chose a picture that i took and love, that lightens it up a bit

Truth is better than a cover – up

Tuesday, October 15, 2013 @ 12:38:33

 😣 § 😞

Squashed man, a woman won the game, a couple of women for sure

These women and the men with them

Or the men using these women to win their game

  😣 § 😞

cover and a perfect goat

to scape the deeds vile and done

what it was, was for their fun

and the goat that fell to their knife

was all but just for them

a perfect infusion to their dream

  😣 § 😞

but this is no game for sure

Though the life that’s squashed – it was naught but a game

The cover – up in feigned innocence

And the innocence of the man

ran under the train, chased and pushed again

bricks hit by the ton

and grimaced faces tauntingly ask,

is it fun

are you having fun yet

  😣 § 😞

they too play in the hands of the lies that were used

the lies that lie on pavement, in papers, on bars and razor wire

electric fences to herd the cattle and keep them in their place

the words etched in a head set

as to never question or challenge the contradictions that reality spells out

as in the ferry fetched feminist revenge to a male dominant oppression setting

and the males who stretch these roads for the agenda not just nor civil

but their billion dollar industries are heading up the road

  😣 § 😞

catch me then, I say, in the truth where it was hidden

in a treasure chest of beauty pained by the blood of beatings,

eminent death in the spirit of the savages who predatorily do that which is expected

they in their setting of choice, their playground in two kinds of uniform

of them in control, and they in control are controlled

for their studied nature is easily manipulated to fall into the realm of the marionette

and their puppet masters lord over them – where they, at the every beck and call

  😣 § 😞

so they find me, in the middle of the road, on the edge of a path, in the middle of the day when the sun beats down, in the cold of winter and ice on the ground

  😣 § 😞

how many souls was it that I found

how many like mine – and did I bring them to the middle of town

to help in their dreams and give all I am

to have it said otherwise

and the piles to the sky

of unchallenged spew vomited to the air

none cared to clean up the mess, none have come near

 😣 § 😞

it is all to difficult

from the day and the day out

to be but a saint

always cared too much, way too much

to those who are not even close to being artists

but given power

painting me like … as if I am a monster

it is not the monsters inside me

I never knew them

They are the monsters of the minion

who have gone unchecked

they speak as if they are the truth

when all they do is hide

 😣 § 😞

to hide it, these monsters do

to hide it, and trembling, when it is that the truth shall shake them for good

shake them because they will not come forward

it is easier for them to say, he admitted it

when all it was , was a statement

a statement for the weight of assessment

from the impartial

never had they been found

only in him, and he is under the ground!

 😣 § 😞


flowers & thorns and the sky adorned

flowers & thorns and the sky adorned

please click on this pic, like my fan page, and invite friends – thank U for helping the skid row artist, U.S. Marine Corporal, kenneth james.

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