When Tears Tear

Wear sown eyes, weave sorrows, torn over and over
Tattered reigns on rein bare, flooding dry fraught tears
RIP thy heart apart razor blades shredded ebb words
Mulch about, depth of dire despair, eating away - whole.

I am, but a shadow that weeps alone - amid desolation
Too Bee, less than something, never To Be - again seen
How a world of words destroys poets – to be stillborn STILL
Stagnant of any purpose, they then bear invisible life-times.

I am naught, I cannot be, but a knot bee, on this bark tree.
De-neutered eunuch this societal nut tied function castration.
“NUTS,” Poets cries to that - they have gonads or ovaries
They have no infertile words, but Viagra full of vivid wordplay.

They wear their tears that move their verse, terse torn quivers
River shrill streams of sub-conscience, into viable consciousness
Lines that flow soft then penetrate hard with erectile rigid impact
To cuddle, and hug with fertile conception compassion – one sighs.

Insight sight that bears living roots of seeded Poetry – sprouting hope
Wherein tears, tear at the soul, to cry to break ground - Mother’s womb.
Does nail the storm inside wailing words that fester scars, over scar tissue
The issue is how humanity says it cares, while putting in its dire dagger.

Pyre point of life “LIES” in Thank You For Your Service flame sediment
Smiling at you, as if with pity, then turning away, like Christians dew.
When they see a homeless person with, “I am hungry” on cardboard.
This is the reality and soul of Conservative America - where tears tear.