The Prophet Motive
We pool our resources We list our skills and passions. We ask how to be a good neighbor. How to reach out, educating without alienating. How to find one common cause. How to find our prophet motive. Doing good without compensation. To become whole inside this global nation. Fear can be crippling as we face ...
The Zimmerman Rewrite
I surrender I. Flight not fight. Not seeking to invite another strike. Moving ones weight to another state. No gun needed to subdue anyone running from you. No more snake eating its tail. No more head to swell. This short exchange is done. Both opponents live on. Both soon to rise. For I surrender I. ...
“dreamland”
The camel slips through the needle’s eye With the ease of elastic crying in the ointment The fly is caught, barely breathing The strongest set gets stronger As weaker ones cringe off behind the street corner Barely recognized, hardly incapable of Inhaling the sting of contradictions The ying and yang weighed down with Footsteps one ...
Riding a Bike
You see life. You feel life. But it passes you by. The calmness in the sky. Not a cloud in site. Colors changing, eternally. When we ride bikes, we think where are we going. When we work, we hope our fortune is growing. When we vote, we believe that it will count. We practice worrying ...
Byron King Plays Souls and Gold
Some people speak softly and suppress their opinions. Poet Byron King is not one of those people. “We have to quit screwing around. We have to get back to basics, back to spiritual investments and dreaming big-really big. Great countries invest in creativity and in collective consciousness, both byproducts of the human soul,” he says. In ...
A Happy Song
I am happy. I am happy. I take my pills and auto-sync With a world on the brink. I am happy. I am happy. I say this to not think About the poison that I drink. I am happy. I am happy. I watch sports and do not blink. If my team loses I will ...
The one true God is dead
The one true God is dead. We shot him in the head and watched as he bled. Because he grew fear and hate. Because he watched us and did nothing to state That love is God is a word. A feeling that we all have but do not deserve. Because we have massacred our own people. ...
In the Shadow of the Tower
A ball of white light blasts outward. A man pulls his body upwards. All his energy exhausted. His singularity invested. There are people that don’t understand The investment that has been given. There is a city, a world, a universe That has been growing version by version. Like sleeve tattoos recycled among its own Shaped ...
Spoken and Forgiven
As the words find you Remember where you were. What conversations you had Sharing the title of the books of past. When you repeat your prayers Remember the power of the layers Of time pressed and passed. From one’s lips to another mind Where words have grown the divine. As the words find you Pen ...
The Practice
To feel one’s feet. The space between one’s meat. To find one’s balance. The symmetry that is substance. To extend one’s back. The spine inside intact. To open one’s lungs. The air inside unsung. To have one’s joints torn apart. The re-alignment gained, a new start. To know one’s body again. The spaces between friends. ...
Wedding Vows
these words will find their place.
a space between the beats
replete with distance and sync
Hemingway’s Shotgun
The muse is not listening. The fuse is glistening. Fire, flame, glimmer, shame. Am I forgetting How many times I have been applauded? How many times I have been lauded? Will it ever be enough? I think of Hemingway and his Pulitzer. Drunk on whiskey ready to pull the trigger. Shotgun in mouth. Brains blown ...
Notes from Purgatory
While the idea of Logocentric waits in purgatory, we at globatron find it appropriate to publish under the same pseudonym more of his older works. This is not a navel-gazing tribute as much as it is an affirmation that he lived, and an indication that he may now permanently inhabit the circuitry of another dimension–one ...
Citadel
“Every choice human being strives instinctively for a citadel and a secrecy where he is saved from the crowd, the many, the great majority—where he may forget ‘men who are the rule,’ being their exception—excepting only the one case in which he is pushed straight to such men by a still stronger instinct, as a ...
