BAD OMENS: MONDAY NOVEMBER 14TH, 2022 A Poem

BAD OMENS:
MONDAY NOVEMBER 14TH, 2022
OR
THE DAY OF THE ASSHOLE

The tarot cards have
Foreseen the horrible future

And his return

All the signs

Impossible
To ignore

The first hint
Was The Tower card
The second? A
Loud & long wailing inhuman fart
Sound eminating from the
Downstairs neighbors
Apartment

Who’s a staunch
Republican with a
Make America Great Again
Sticker

On his pickup truck

The candles

Immediately started
Flickering and all the
Dogs in the neighborhood
All took a massive dump at once

All

At the same exact time

And from a place unknown
Perhaps another dimension
Or the spirit world
A loud screaming voice came through
The walls which said in an errie, frightening &
Mournful voice

OH NO, OH NO!

It’s That RACIST ASSHOLE AGAIN!
And He’s Running For President AGAIN!

ASS-HOLE

ASS-HOLE

ASSSSSSSSSHOLLLLLLLEEE …

11 … 14 … 22

BEWARE !

BEWARE THE FAT & UGLY
ORANGE ASS-HOLE !

And then?

A book on the U.S. Constitution
Mysteriously fell off the shelf

And opened up to a page
Which said:

AMENDMENT 14

Which must be read
In an exorcism

To rid him

From this world

For good

~ R.M. Engelhardt ©2022

I SING OF THE BODY DISSECTED. A Poem By R.M. Engelhardt

art*poem by r.m. Engelhardt ©2022

I SING OF THE BODY DISSECTED

So let us now all
Sing or if you believe

Pray

Not of these golden days
But in this dead choir of reprieve
Of anguish of suffering of days

Let us all sing of the 21st century
Of all our failures & the false
Triumphs & of the true progress
Of men

Unmade

Undone

Unseen

Watch &
See how we
So easily destroy

Ignore

Incite

Our own defeat

And on repeat
Like a bad news story
Like history
Still worship greed
And money
The holy dollar
And all the fat politicians
On all sides taking
Away what we once
Called ” Freedom”

As a quaint, dismembered idea

As wars are still waged
Poverty still a slave
We post all our success
Stories

But never our shame

As a dead earth
No longer of beauty
But of a violence unimagined
And obscene

Disgusting.

Weapons
Unimagined & unseen
The end of everything
The end

And the tragedy
The murder of all days

Like all the animals dying &
Loosing space

Oh how inconvenient

How 1980s
And Green

Our voices & our
Votes now all dead and
Useless worthless things

Without any real power for
Truth or change

Countries & governments
In decline still crumbling
And arguing, fighting
Killing over race

And over oil

A disgrace

A disfigurement a
World burning
Forests dying
No gods answering
No gods listening
No god here

Because
No god cares
Or listens
Anymore

This planet
This rock
Used up &
Separated

Dysfunctional
Diseased

Destroyed

With hate
With rage

Peace
Now just
Another trendy word

Forgotten

So for thee I Sing
Of this body
Dissected

Damaged by
Monsters & corrupt men
Fake patriots & grifters
Looking for trophies
And hiding behind a flag

And blaming
All other living beings
For everything
They’ve done

More convenience
More sorrow
More lies
The scapegoat
Followed by the
Image of the Tower card

Falling

As the seasons change
The leaves remain
But we never change

And never will

So for thee I Sing – Scream

For the impoverished
Families and their children starving
I Sing for the ignored
And uneducated the unemployed
And for all those
Guilty of being
Human beings

With hope
With dreams
With love
With faith

I sing for humanity
I sing for change

For Black lives
For all lives
For Suicides
And for all those buried
Beneath us in unmarked graves of
Unrest & genocide
And for all those who
Believe in a Jesus Christ

( Or not )

I Sing for
The Great Spirit
That once roamed
This land now a mere
Figment of imagination
Lost in the blood of
My ancestors

The flags all at half mast
Concealing the sadness
The truth

Of a nation
Once called America

Ashamed

I Sing of the body
The whole of the soul
Dissected

Diseased

Where Walt Whitman
Would now if alive
Weep over it’s reality
And in it’s sorrow
Walk away

Where Lincoln would
Crawl up into a ball
And simply

Choose to die

I Sing of A Nation of the
Body dissected

By cannibals
Who’ve erased all of
It’s glory

And where there
Is no honor, spark of
Democracy, decency
Or even electricity

Left

~ R.M. Engelhardt
©2022