Tannishblog

…For what it's worth.

Unfavorable Position.

News recycled: Repetition.
All are sliding toward Perdition.
Stocking up on ammunition.
No room left to brake.

 Antipodal opposition,
Erudition in remission.
Payouts for a politician -
Icing on the cake.

Children struggle with addition,
Failure in our foreign mission.
Gulags come with electricians.
Artificial lake.

All the world’s in opposition,
Missionaries in position,
Military expedition.
Burning at the stake.

Coalition with ambition,
Trying out a phase transition.
Blaming the planning commission.
Oil of the snake.

Heading for an intermission.
Smelling of decomposition.
Mount a search and rescue mission.
What’s is going to take?

 

A poetic moment after morning meditation:

White On Black

I stare at the screen, white on black, Both empty.
Like my mind is empty of thought, Of purpose,
Perhaps I try too hard to think, Just let go.
The moment is all there is.

I stare at the words. Black on white, All empty.
Meanings are inferred - illusions, all. Just symbols.
Without the mind, what good are words? None to hear.
Beneath all thought there is peace.

I stare at my words, “there is peace,” White on black.
Useless symbols, no one listens. No one cares.
Without Peace, what good can there be?
Swept away By a wind of violence.

A Tannish original, for Memorial Day, 2005

Give homage to our precious dead, All those who do remain.
For policy and rhetoric, For senseless death, in vain.
For principles and politics, We send our young to die.
A grieving mother's tear-stained face, So plainly wonders why.

Send tribute to our newly lost, Our love, it cannot die.
Kneel beside their fresh-turned graves, Beneath the perfect sky.
Question all that brings such pain, That God and Man forfend.
And send a prayer into the void, Such folly soon will end.

Pay respects to Ideologues, Who send your youth to die.
Why kiss the Ring of Priviledge, To kiss their souls goodbye?
The Evil that is on this Earth, Resides in any man,
Who sends our young to die for him, As if that is God's plan.

To die in the name of Freedom, Is viewed as lofty praise.
Is politics superior To the children that we raise?
At what point will we look about, To see what is insane:
To kill in the name of Freedom, Devalues what is gained.

A Wartime Lament

 
Bombs in the subways, bombings at hotels,
Looks like the world is going straight to Hell.
You have what I want, I’ll wrest it from your hand,
Pump the oil from the ground and leave your dying land.

Freedom in retreat as children pay the price
For dwindling reserves and economic strife.
Freedom marches on with mortars and grenades
Pushing all before it in a wave of hate and rage.

“Stars-and-stripes Forever” will reshape this world,
The last one left standing will let the flag unfurl.
No room for the weak, none left for the poor.
Heaven’s Gate is closed; Hell’s a gaping door.

We’ll make your children soldiers to dance upon command.
Then blast your towns to rubble, just so much desert sand.
We’ll then rebuild your nation, if you only kneel.
And give you Coca Cola with every Happy Meal.

War is in the subways; war is in the streets,
Your God is not my God; never shall they meet.
Freedom changes tactics as the Four Horsemen ride.
God gave up long ago, there’s no place to hide.

Content herein will grown in time, as the Muses dictate…