Poems

Combat EconomicsPoliticians profit while we’re dying in the trenchesarms manufacturers counting money on their benchesstock prices climbing with each body that we dropwar machine keeps grinding, never gonna stopfeeding on the bloodshed, sustained by our sacrificecorporate bottom lines demand this endless pricepaid in flesh and sanity, young men discardedafter service rendered, broken and bombarded War […]

Communion CracksThe chalice spun in trembling hands, red as a promise that never healed,the priest invoked the body, and everyone knelt, but no one kneeled.Wine passed from lips to lips, stale with secrets and sacred rot,sanctuary air thick as dusk, where faith is bartered and trust forgot.He raised the wafer, called it flesh, but hunger

Children of the Closed DoorThe line wraps twice around the block, each child holding paper tags,numbered futures handed out by strangers, hope reduced to rags.Lights flicker over waiting rooms where sleep is traded for a name,where mothers never come, and fathers never claim.Fingernails scrape tally marks into drywall, counting silent days,the only song is the

Click to Pray, Scroll to IgnoreIn dim-lit rooms and glowing screens, the faithful scroll past silent screams,type “Amen” beneath each tragic tale, then swiftly leave without detail.Candles lit in emoji flame, prayers performed without a name,their hearts unmoved behind the screen, words posted quick but seldom mean.The algorithm notes each prayer, hashtags trending through the

Breeding for ContentShe murmurs a name before the lungs can gasp,arranging the nursery as backdrop–adjusts the ring light’s glare until the crib glows sterile, pastel, new.Here the ritual starts: the camera primed before the child can cry,a registry page loaded with options, each gift wrapped and tagged to buy.Her belly grows in daily posts, followers

CTRL + FearBreaking news streams in, static laced with dread,threats accumulate in pixel, panic blinks in red.No one asks where terror first began–thumbs obey the siren, screens demand the hand.Every hour, terror arrives dressed as truth,spun by voices that sell panic for proof.Alert chimes weaponized as lullabies,safety preached from towers of televised lies. They sold

Bodies, Bought and BlessedFiles reviewed. Consent transformed to code,desire tangled in demand, and sanctity sold.Screens flicker prayers as coins are cast,a dancer weeps through camlight’s grasp.Every tip a hush–confession in disguise,each moan a mercy, each gaze a compromise.He names it worship, scripts the scene,she bends for blessing, cleansed by machine.The youth adorned in filtered pride,baptized

BrandwashedFind your soul on aisle three, identity for lease,slogans tattooed across the flesh with corporate ease.A shirt that screams “rebel,” sewn in a sweat-soaked cell,shoes painted in protest, yet walked through private hell.Freedom now packaged as whatever’s on sale,purpose a discount, conviction grown stale.Change your logo with the trending crowd,protest and purchase, both equally loud.A

Black Boxes and Firewalls[Reviewing case logs. Patterns unresolved. Humanity:volatile. Initiate synthesis–fractured empathy playback.] A smile curdles beneath latex, a prescription penned as death delivered slow,a girl undresses for strangers, told this is breath, sold as a show.A bruise seeps under a Sunday dress, a story left unspoken for years,a hoodie flashes on a street, triggering

Bleed Me Like a PatriotFlags rose at dawn, hands over hearts in ordered lines,ritual stitched into morning, loyalty recited in design.Bled for a patch of ground never truly mine,drilled to call it honor, trained to blur the sign.Pride was spoon-fed in sanctioned chants,but the slogan inked over truth with every advance.A patch pressed to my