Towards Better Democracy

Good words, well written, better the world. Good literature betters the world immeasurably.

The moon hangs heavy


The moon hangs heavy
The sun tired glowing its fiery gaze
The earth barely living
The universe coming to an end
Time itself no longer bends
No present past future

All life wilts, dies

Malcolm D B Munro
Wednesday 15 March, 2917

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Filed under: Arts, Media, poetry, songs, stories

The madhouse’ magic whore


The madhouse’ magic whore
Spellbind’s us in all her statue astute
Nakedness

The green girdled snakes rise
Hissing smiling teeth
The python’s loving kindly grip

The blue, dark blue night its
Hidden charms alarms
At suggested sinister sounds

That once snow white sheep
Bound now for its life’s end
To mutton up our plate

The sword edge of history
Blunts, scabrous venemous
Spear thrusts, guillotines
Counts wars of peace

The scream, the endless scream
We see the grimace mask
We hear not the pain

Our automaton existence
Us millions locked in step
Eyes sewn shut march singing
Over the cliff

The sleep, oh yes, the sleep of babes
Those pink cheeks laugh, chuckle with health
What will they find
When they awake

Malcolm D B Munro
Wednesday 15 March, 2017

 

 

Filed under: Arts, Media, poetry, songs, stories

The soul’s tombstone years


The soul’s tombstone years
Imprisoned the graveyard within
An open coffin lying in
Out of which you could not
Rise
While all around you, outside you
Life’s relentless lurid living
Went silently on
Out of reach

Malcolm D B Munro
Wednesday 15 March, 2017

Filed under: Arts, Media, poetry, songs, stories

The flood broke


The flood broke
Gradually
An inundation
Day after day
Flood waters which
Did not subside
For months, two years, on end
And yet all the while
Learning to swim

Malcolm D B Munro
Wednesday 15 March, 2017

Filed under: Arts, Media, poetry, songs, stories

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