Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Pickett's Charge

Fore Fathers drawing paths with pens
Precedence prior to grounded feet, or dry ink on paper
Youthful indoctrination, bathe the babe
Embedded longing for autonomous coupling

Pauper to Prince

Illusions and tunnel visions, white horses
Slaying personal demons, kissing frogs
Trials and tribulations for fairytale prizes:
Non-existential sleeping beauties, open eyes

Tending to the army, clones we create
               Lost in secession:
               The Self, The Cause
Stagnate States in the maths of our mind

A House, multiply and divide

Have we no civility, chivalry?
These wars fought in two story castles
               Upon fields in our backyards, lawns
Artillery fire via formerly friendly mouths

A portrait that hangs on Stonewall:
Painting of our blue and grey dispositions
Still frame of echoed arguments, repercussions
High watermark dreams without fruition

Frontline sights and smells,
Front porch smoke plumes
                Skirmish ash remnants, the fumes
From a once fine cigar


The cannon fodder we serve
Mindless drivel for the cerebellum
               Severing the farce Union we longed to create
Slaves to our own institutions

Fall in line

Carry the sword from diamond stone
Worshipping coins sans accountability
Congratulations and Salutations are in order

Sign here, Pendragon
Ex-Calibur strikes true

Welcome to Camelot


  1. Byran,
    Great Sardonic post. I relish in yout words. I was reminded of the War Prayer by Mark Twain.

  2. ha...if only the camelot were not ruled by the king that we are...clones indeed...smiles.

  3. @Sean & @Brian, thanks for the commentary, friends. To Sean, I take that with the utmost of compliments, especially in the essence of Mr. Clemens final line. Brian, 'tis true, we are bred for the machines, it now may seem.

  4. I appreciate how you consider the collective delusions of cultural myth to influence young minds—probably why I like the line "Non-existential sleeping beauties," so much. Compelling poetry, Byran.

  5. Your title pulls the poem full circle and then back again. Am I suspended in history? Yes with this whirlwind - indeed

    thanks for the One Shot and for joining us it is an honor to have your words


  6. Bravo. An excellent artistic critique of our culture's war on sanity.

  7. excellent stuff. I do believe we are on the same page in many respects. I like your work, Sir

    Warmest Salad

    Luke @ WordSalad

  8. Charged in so many ways with a pickett bayonet ---in just your title for this poem! I am enjoying the rich perspectives of your sharp poetry. I look forward to returning for another view.