I

The hour is so late within
The state of indecision
As all the clowns are crying
Watching history rewritten

Nowhere left to dance
Or keep the balances in check
It’s all too much as such
We pull our flags around our necks

Hoping to protect the freedoms
We so dearly crave
Inside shallow graves, we hide
In darkness, where denial dies

Graffiti written prayers on walls
Shouts of faith in hallowed halls
Only echoes for the dead
Replayed as syllables in your head

Here is where the heartaches start
These sacred dreams are torn apart
The remnants are enough to fill
A thimble full of faith

And who now waits
Outside the gates
Of chaos running free
This state of grace
Long since replaced
With repeat history

The day is far removed from things
As bombs of time for ticking
As hornet nests for kicking
Longing for another’s sting

Subtly poisoned bloodstreams
Smiling as we slowly die
It’s no wonder vultures fly
Whenever she walks by

Laughing as a madman
In a pink and yellow dress
A mess of lace and make-up
Faces false in grand excess

The night becomes an albatross
A spider on her wing
With lizards riding moonbeams
Watching caterpillars sing

Yet, who will save the poets
Or the writers on the run
When maniacs
Rule the madhouse
And the clocks
Are striking one

II

The fools have gathered in the streets
To make the mockery complete
Listening to the lies
Disguised as change
We must accept
There’s no returning now
Regrets won’t help you
Win the war
Biding time while counting dimes
As restitution for his crimes
The scales of justice broken
And there are demons at the door

See how fast the truth will die
As angels cry and devils laugh
As half as much of such and such
Is more or less a second guess
So easy to conceal
Then feel the wrath
Of snowflakes falling
The width and breadth
of life and death
Makes chaos so appalling

Rocks and bricks rain flame and flash
Led weight brains to kick and bash
Red rose wine for me and you
Drinking down the news
Getting drunk on liquid lies
Despised for what you love
While captive
Prisoner of your home
We watch and wait
Consuming hate
Becoming numb eventually

It’s true if we believe it to be
Or maybe so as we conceive
As what we see is destiny
Unfolding as a book
Complacency
Most definitely won’t
Replace the lives they took
But who will save the poets
Or the writers we once knew
When death is at the doorstep
And the clocks are striking two

III

There’s a calm before the storm, they say
At least, I think there was
Far above the roaring lions
Coos of passing doves
Watching all the madness
In these black tar streets of blood
People running to and fro
Fro and to and back again
So easy life is with a pen
Pretend the answer’s cut and dry
While people die as we are shown
In slo-mo, it’s so clear to know
How fear will grow from loss or lack
The difference between blue and black
Color-blind unless we’re told
How easily the lie unfolds
My own worst enemy is me
I am the source of my disdain
You said it’s so, it must be true
The newsman said the same
And another said the same
And then another…said the same
I’m to blame, and so it goes
In World War Two
They called it propaganda
Such a big word for small minds
And so we listen, watch in awe
The pretty soldiers
Kicking in doors
Candidates as heavenly whores
Fucking over all for praise
Keep the idiots in a haze
This is madness come to roost
A toast to beggars on the run
The sides were chosen
Before you tried to play the game
All the same
We point and blame
Who we are told
What we are told
Sold for souls
We give away
For plasma TVs
Telephones
Clothes
Whatever you can carry
As you wonder who
Will save the poets
Or the writers as they flee
When death is at the doorstep
And the clocks are striking three

IV

September is the marker
More a point of no return
The message in the method
In the moment heaven burns
A steady drip of violence
Sets the pace for human waste
Into a flood of blood and water
Of indecision made in haste
The taste of death
Doth numb the tongue
As knowledge stabs
With subtle grace
Now face-to-face
We feel so safe behind a mask
We hide our smiles, beguiled by fear
By what we hear
Speak with eyes
Distance lies six feet under
Side by side
A fool gives up his rights for likes
His loss becoming sweet delight
So strange how minds become a sponge
Soaking up the words of those
Who show us who to hate and why
To carry signs
To spread a lie
As so much honey jam, we spread
On moldy bread
We’re slowly bled
To feed a hunger for the news
As circus idiots amuse
But who will save the poets
Or the writers on the floor
When demons turn the tables
And the clocks are striking four

V

So you think you understand me now
The mind spins webs of vain intrigue
Exposing what we fear the most
The lusts we have exchanged for greed

And with it summer dies to fall
Leaves are gathered to be burned
Smoke turns black and clouds the sky
Chokes your breath and stings the eyes

But does this sound like fall at all?
No, not quite sure for something’s wrong
The city’s drenched in sheets of flame
Streets engulfed with point and blame

September marching with the dead
October waiting for a meal
Endless chaos in the news
Following as sheep are used

For wool to pull over the eyes
So we can’t see beyond the lies
Lying down in blades of grass
A thousand cuts we can’t get past

To slaughter as to slumber
Spells in cycles we are under
But where oh where is sanity
Oh, vanity of vanities

Yes, this solemn line I took
From pages of a hollowed book
For as it was, is now begun
There’s nothing new under the sun

To feel the wisdom of a child
Running wild without a care
We’re here for just a little while
Then old and gray
We disappear

Into September, marching on
The grist mill grinding down to dust
Whatever hope we leaned upon
Was stolen with “In God We Trust.”

And who will save the poets
Or the writer’s half-alive
When the angels fly to heaven
And the clocks are striking five

VI

The child stands his ground
With dire sounds inside the street
Five years old and worlds away
From you and me
Or he and she
Playing cops and robbers (mean)
Thieves, thugs, and killer queens
Heroes telling lies like that
Dirty Dogs or Vicious cats
Rabid Rat or Quiet Mouse
Cowboys, Indians, Wrestling Pigs
Illusions in a world of play
What we do or do not say
Enemies within
Enemies without
He shouts into the day
Draws his battle lines
Christ vs The Anti-Christ
Devils fighting Angels
Kings and Slaves
Knights and Naves
Illusions ever-changing
In a child’s world of play
Hiding in plain sight
Shooting strangers with his finger
Shouting as a madman
On a mission to repent
Walking Dead vs The Living
And a saint with bad intent
Love replaced with hate
We realize the lies too late
Shooting monsters with his mouth
Chased by neighbors to his yard
Watching people yelling
Shouting at the sun
Are they playing a game
Illusions ever-changing
In a child’s world of play
World’s away
Worlds away
The day is dying with the dawn
And now the fires rule the night
Sirens wail as ravens scream
He cries inside a shattered dream
But who will save the poets
Or the writers turning tricks
When justice takes a back seat
And the clocks are striking six

VII

If we make it through September
Please remember this is not a test
At best, it’s just a run-through
For a Marxist fantasy fest
Where everyone is brainwashed
To accept a state of mind
To give their eyes to charity
And walk as if they’re blind
Tied to one another
With a velvet robe of need
Happy ever after
Where you’re paid
By how you bleed

But what I want to say is:

Fuck these rhymes for now
See if this makes sense
Since all this madness started
Why would you be hearing
The same catchphrases
Over and over and over
New normal? What is that?
“We’re all in this together!”
I don’t think so
This is collectivism
Plain and simple
Everyone thinking the same
Marxist doublespeak
Planting seeds
In fertile minds
As Mao did with his
Little Red Book
Please research history
Do not give up your
Individuality
Give us your eyes
Give us your mind
Follow us
Follow blind
You do see what’s happening
It is called social engineering
And it’s been in the works for years
“We’re all in this together”
I don’t think so
I’m not losing my identity
No way…don’t lose yours
And do not be afraid
Collectivism is a disease
Freedom is the cure!

So where was I?

Back to rhymes and sing-song words
The sweetest pain you’ve ever heard
How freedom dies in soft degrees
While sleeping in the days, believe
If we just work and scrimp and save
Are we still only working slaves
Paying for a prison home
Tied to everything we own
It’s sad to think we eat and drink
Without the slightest question mark
Society’s always on the brink
Waiting to ignite the spark
But who will save the poets
Or the writers seeking heaven
When the churches are all closed
And the clocks are striking seven

VIII

The beginning of the end
Comes in stages to be sure
The cure is something we all seek
Inheriting it for the meek
The ones who never raise a voice
To mouth opinions as a choice
They take what they have never earned
Lose the world and never learn
On promises, they’re born and raised
As sheep to slaughter
Gently graze
Believing they are truly free
A version of a fantasy
We lose with time
And so sublime
With backyard barbecues
And wine
A stupor of complacency
We get in line
And pay the fee
No thought at all
For what we get
A saucerful of life’s regrets
A cup of poison and a wave
We’re sent off to an early grave
And then our friends
Will gather round
They raise a glass, propose a toast
To what’s his name or her or him
Come to think his name was Jim
To Jim, at last, you did your best
But sadly, never passed the test
Your life was given up for loss
By lucky dice and coins they tossed
Or heads you lose and tails we win
And what’s left of our friend Jim
Now his son Tom must take the reigns
Destroy the home and family name
Work his fingers to the bone
Divorce the wife and live alone
Or maybe not we’ll see, I guess
What’s far worse now is more or less
A form of subterfuge sublime
Like spinning stories on a dime
But who will save the poets
Or the writers who are late
When we’re waiting in the dark
And the clocks are striking eight

VIIII

When October comes around
The wires will be so tight
Steel thorns pricking
Ripping skin
Bullets flying
Living sin
Enemies are everywhere
Hunger rules the day
The battle lines are drawn
In blood
A flood of human pain
As stains, they mark
The sidewalks
Wander
The time is spent
Collecting time
Precious commodity
Gather years on years
Swallowing the hours
Drowning in minutes
Choking on seconds
Time consumes me and eludes me
Can’t control or rise above it
Looking back, I hear it laugh
Mocking with the failures past
They told us what was coming
But we were happy eating
Filling faces to excess
Now the time is gone
These are the days
I wish time would end
But who will save the poets
Or the writers killing time
When life is lost for losing
And the clocks are striking nine

X

We move along like cattle
Down a line of discontent
Fight a losing battle
Watching how our money’s spent
Buying things, we’re told we need
From faces on TV
Living as a prisoner
While believing we are free
Dreading Mondays
With a smile
Tuesdays stretching
On for miles
Wednesday breaks
The week in two
Thursday suffer
Getting through
Then it’s Friday
Thanking God
Weekend comes
But seems so odd
Two days off
For fun and then
Dreading Mondays
Once again
For now, this life is but a blur
It used to be a dream, they say
A song they played back in the day
We can’t return there anyway
In troubled times we reminisce
About the golden hours we miss
As moments captured with our pen
Repeat the cycle once again
But who will save the poets
Or the writers who pretend
While everyone is starving
And the clocks
Are striking ten

XI

Normalcy is nothing new
Together is a state of mind
What we see and what is heard
Is filed away with what’s absurd

Label me, then choose a side
For there is no safe place to hide
As psycho-social engineers
Lead us down a path to where

Faith is changed to words of hate
Laws are changed without debate
Pointing fingers
Placing blame
Making people think the same

You laugh and say it can’t be done
Well, take a look how far we’ve come
Words are weapons
Laws are tricks
Religions masking politics

Ask yourself these questions, then
I’ll never bring them up again
Who tells you of the news you hear
Is it fake, and do you care

What’s the Constitution mean
What do you view as obscene
And what of guns to confiscate
Is there much more to this debate

Is not a gun a form of tool
Within the hands of mental fools
Should we lie down
As lambs for slaughter
Not protect our sons or daughters

For blood will reign
As blood will spill
And killers find a way to kill
If not a gun
A knife
A rock
A plastic bag
Or wet tube sock

Disarming will not make you free
Please Google “Disarm History”
Tyranny takes on many forms
In silence hides
In lies, it swarms

Around the words
In God We Trust
To create doubts
To creep as rust
Like fear is planted in your head
Just like the Mondays that you dread

Yet, who will save the poets
Or the writers half past seven
When we have all been shackled
And the clocks have struck eleven

XII

I saw you with your smirky smile
In your costume (in disguise)
Your slippery tongue was wagging wild
Winking with those lifeless eyes

Carefully crafted double-speech
Accentuating (mass confusion)
Keeps your true self out of reach
Consecrates your grand illusion

Speaking into microphones
Pandering for camera angles
Well-placed words in monotone
As your crystal promise dangles

A state of flux by proxy stated
A truth of sorts, but then again
Deceptively pontificating
Now you can’t remember when

So craftily, you cast divisions
Making points of hope and change
Laying out your schemes as visions
Chessboard worlds to rearrange

While talking heads lay roses
At the feet of your despise
Keeping critics on a short leash
Freedom slowly compromised

Broadcast, typecast, virulize
Marxists playbook (trivialize)
Dead before we realize
Silence all who criticize

Like third world countries burning
History is on repeat
Loss for losing never learning
Now, the circle is complete

Polarizing race relations
Divide and conquer, then we lose
Restricting all denominations
Engineering how we choose

Hypnotizing mindless minions
Manipulating strength with weakness
Destroying faith
And middle-classes
Exploiting homeless
Praising fascists

Lies for one and all (consuming)
Life’s for sale and fate is blind
Propaganda, sickness looming
Locked inside collective minds

Don’t believe these motherfuckers
All are liars, one the same
They don’t care at all about you
As they make themselves a name

Deconstructing firm foundations
Blurring facts to look like fraud
Replacing love with alienation
Libtard zombies all applaud

Loss of liberty, loss of time
Loss of morals (over years)
Drinking promises like poison
Drunk with power, drowned with tears

Creating monsters, spreading fear
Trading freedom for protection
In our homes becoming prisoners
Dying in our recollections

Now complacent (no resistance)
What we fear becomes our friend
Brainwashed into coexistence
Turns and kills us in the end

But who will save the poets
Or the writers from themselves
When words no longer matter
And the clocks are striking twelve?

TM DiSarro

©2020 TM DiSarro / MindScapes Publishing

From the Book: EVERY WICKED BIRD