Abstracting Today’s Junkyard Dogs


Does it have to be this way,
cries the inner voice?

So many…

Captured,
starved,
beaten,
trained to hate,
mostly self.

Bark loud,
bare your teeth,
they’re lobbying..

Growl some fear,
pull the baggage of tools and weapons behind
bellows the master,
gripping the chain,
choking and whipping,
burrowing his will deep into what’s left of soft matter,
once of connected neural sparks,
once a perpetual holiday glow.
now lit by dimming light,
the moonlight glint of mind’s razorwire captivity,
walling in all that's left.

How calm once
this miraculous sentience,
this simple love
born of gentle nuzzling caress,
a mother's honor to care,
given with innate affection.

Nurtured,
attended,
guided,
until...

Somewhere along maturation's path,
fear-mongers took center stage.
Peacenik slurs became the battle cry
as violence taught as norm
seeded fear into possession of arms,
both mental and the physical.

That’s the price one pays
to maintain one’s status quo,
says the controlling entity.

Recently…

Paranoia has accelerated its insidious creep,
the blood stream's contamination grows,
pollution works its eroding effect
‘til synaptic connections fray.

Today’s tomorrow…

Tenuous resolve succumbs.
Lights dim.
Sparks die.
Darkness becomes the twisted light.

Does it have to be this way?

The junkyard dog in all of us
longs for the warmth of what once was,
even as collars cinch tighter,
chains jerk harder,
shouts to obey become louder.

Might there be no answer?

Might we be too far gone?

Might the resistance of rational mind
be in its final capitulation,
drifting,
disintegrating,
becoming but dinner scraps
fed to the next generation
to perpetuate this endless cycle?

Junkyard dogs
is not a term reserved for four-legged creatures only.

Still…

All are made,
not born.