Demon Within Skeletal Defeat
Tis the demon within the mind questioning
Where art thou poet of the inner world
Quaking inside fears, driven on, by fear
Upon the lonely road of isolation, so near
HeArtBeats wailing cry from afar, yet cavalier
Galloping at breakneck speed from afar.
Quaking ground in heartaches woven sorrows,
Where art thou poet sailing the mainspring narrows
Tattered sails weathering the pain torn asunder,
Nails scraping out the core within painful existence.
Oh demon of the winding road twisting one inside
Arise to swallow one whole flooding emotions astride,
Torrential torrents of tormented tattered remains
Stripped bare to a skeleton of what was, what was…
The shell being consumed like a gasoline hell.
Where one’s chariot thirst opens wide traveling utter despair,
Bush Republic of “Nevermore” tolling its death toll grip
Upon the Liberty Bell that did crack the wind’s whip.
Forlorn, forlorn is the wandering vagabond strung poet
Wailing in broken strings weathered too tight mainspring.
Demon you have consumed the core and left the shell
Walking wounded one crawls inside prayer’s poetic endings.
Depression sinking so low quicksand hits the bottom quagmire
Vietnam rant in the coffin door refusing to close airtight misery.
Suffocating light choking alive reality’s Judges of conformity
Mold that refuses to give up veins bleeding upon germinating hope.
But alas, it’s a Bush World, where Liberals become banned blank faces
Denied their role as patriots of so, so long ago in today’s lost Freedoms
Microsoft muted ‘n filtered America of Dead Poets Society culture
Grave words buried asunder Free Speech’s Constitutional demise.
So corporate demon, consume the HeArt of our patriotic country
Using your Eminent Domain Home Sweet Home HR edicts,
Where the American Artmosphere is clipped of its divine wings.
Until one is “Terminated for Poetry” restoring Freedom ‘n Democracy.
David paths fighting Goliaths tyranny consuming “We the people” rights
Like a chevron in royal shell attire of this British Petroleum CEO autocracy.
But in a 2008 Fourth of July, we must Declare our 1776 patriot Independence.
For fairy tale poets believe in the proclamation of Paul Revere ride now shouting,
Here comes the British Petroleum King.
Here comes the Royal Shells of Congressional Royalty.
Here comes Cheney’s Chevron marching monopoly.
Goliaths facing every house inside America named David;
Peter, Paul, Simon, Thomas, James, John, Mathew,
Mark, Luke, Samuel, Moses, Saul, Nathan, George, ‘n Ben
Mary, Betsy, Clara, Virginia, Susan, Rose, ‘n April blossoms
Of the womb of this nations birthright mothers of the American Revolution.
“We the people” children of generations of standing tall against Royal intimidation.
“We the people" are not Corporate Benedict Arnolds outsourcing our children’s future.
“We the people” are the compassions of hugging each other.
David L. Young 07/04/08©
De-Terminated poet, somewhere in America not on company time