| Nadine Sellers |
War I see ugly, I see mad, I see angry, I see sad My colors have slowly darkened wars have come so near Across oceans man has harkened weapons have become so dear Ugly shines the mood of men through vengeance or innate greed though irreconcilable acumen separates soldiers of different creed I see ugly I smell war I remember other sadness Mothers hang their heads in shame as their babies grow into warriors surely they are not the very same children they nursed with errors fathers teach primal honor pride motivates territoriality fear is the mother of horror intelligence hardly rationality I hear bombs distant to me yet nearer the dead December 2007 |
| Copyright 2007 Red Pulp Underground |
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Red Pulp Underground
| My Name Is i walk in the fog of potential halls - blind to numbers on doors or levels - i climb and descend on piles of letters with dumb digits that spell large numbers - which spell my destiny - one by one - fingers crossed - i write more letters- which spell my life - one after another- blind responses declare me- of no current value - i no longer exist between birth and death – i am only alive- for those who are present - and breathe of me- chest wrapped tightly - i climb- on the ballast weight of former hope- feeling my way - on legal staircases - in labyrinthian halls - i am paper – baggage - garbage - carpets wear underfoot - to the tread of dreams - involuntary gestures - i am business - my feet hurt - my head hurts - and in between - the whole system aches - between books - pamphlets - instructions in quadruplicate - i pay one and all - to erase what nine other heads grow back - on the other side - my tongue is raw - my mind naked - no strength left - no will- no more paper - no more money - no more- no more - they have used me up - my name is - where do i go - what is my name - Plenipotentiary Ambassador of Helplessness- PAH- To natives and immigrants, to the Pah-Ute who inhabited this land long before the printed word. December 2007 |
Freedom For Pay Your government, courtesy of your taxes Has offered your son thousands of dollars To enlist in its quest for peace. The monies, it is assumed, will go To world wellness or another new car. I used to think freedom was free, That ideology was food for man, That armies were for soldiers and good fought evil or so I used to feel that defense was only the reverse of offense, I cheered for independence morals and tolerance I watched the wars of history move colored pieces across maps I knew dates, crowns and royalty, de-facto memory Now . . . I know that patriot was just another name for Huns and Vandals who without shame tasted of the food and the women of another game So when you see a flag think of legionnaires and militia of guerillas and fortunaires who perform mercenary deeds in the name of whose nation? to close whichever frontier? to kill whatever god? Remember: trees bleed from gunfire and the soldier of fortune is indeed well fed. December 2007 |
White albino truth taints true colors with many shades of white, white collar--white crime white smoke--white joke greed cuts a pale white scar steal the ice--kill the ivory white wine--white line white rain--white pain snowblind in a wild white world pure daughters drown in inequity white sale--white bread white teeth--white tail dressed for a short eternity with garb of false quality white gown--white lie white hope--white dope covered with slow white rot pristine by law--pale by choice white trash--white cash white deals-- white wheels as we straddle the white line on the road to elsewhere white poor--white lure white core--white lore please celebrate with us the funeral of the air white dream--white cream white knight--white might in this--our atmosphere of dread white we carry the torch of white light. |