We Decadent Slaves by James M MacDonald (paper ebook reader TXT) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
A collection of poetry collected over the last 5 years.
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- Author: James M MacDonald
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with strength and charm
They’ll continue my war right or wrong
To perpetuate my ruse of being strong
The Beauty Missed
Why can’t I see the beauty in everything around?
In solemn observation why am I always bound
I always see the underbelly or the tragedy to come
I focus on the grim and dark why is all I see so glum?
If only I could appreciate the warmth of a summer breeze
Without giving thought to the fast approaching freeze
When I see a flower why can’t I marvel at its bloom?
Without thinking of its coming death in the chilly autumn gloom
Must all I see be tainted, must nothing be enjoyed?
Why are all my thoughts so angry with only hatred employed?
Just once I’d like to watch the sunrise and view it as a joy
To revel in the sound of the laughter of a happy little boy
Without the dread of what’s to come upon this dawning day
Or the fear of what the world will do steal his laughter away
I’d like to see a rose and not remember her, just enjoy the smell
I’d rather not equate my breath with another day in hell
The loss of intelligence
Once it seemed to come so easy
They were not hard to understand
The writer’s song, poetic verse
Were all at my command
But it seems I am a fool
I’ve lost my comprehension
So difficult to hold a thought
To capture my attention
Was it the arrogance of youth?
Or have I lost some part inside
The things that made me something more
Have I hurled it all aside?
To become a slave to toxic food
And the burning pleasure of my booze
Did somewhere in this doldrums life
My very life force ooze
From my pours unto the ground
Did all my talent flee?
Have I lost my chance to effect?
Am I like a dieing tree?
Still looming large and standing tall
But my roots engorged with rot
Will I fall with the next great gust?
I hope it wasn’t all for not
Rattle
The rattle will haunt me, it will linger with me
Echoing in my head, He is not even gone and I already miss him
There he lay in an emancipated state
It breaks me inside as I listen to him struggle
On the outside I seem to be frozen, unable to cry
Perhaps I have dried up. It seems I have been crying for hours upon hours
Days upon Days
I hear the fluid gurgling in his chest
Then he moans and I shutter as there is nothing I can do
She rambles on to whom ever will listen
Endless nonsense
It maddens me and perhaps it shouldn’t
The holy man comes with good intentions but
I find his presence unsettling
I wish he would leave, and we could leave
I want to go home and I want Dad to come with us
We have things to do, work to be done
Much better ways to spend our time
He deserved more time, more life more of everything
This is his reward?
The rattle will haunt me but the injustice
The injustice threatens to drive me mad
A Cynics Prayer
We sit here waiting, hearts stopping with each pause in his breathing
Emotions raging, I am uncertain what to hope for
This suffering is uncalled for, he deserved so much more
My kingdom, my soul to have one more week with him
One more week of good health and good times
I would take his place if he’d let me but
I am certain that he would never accept the trade
I wonder though if he might not do a better job with the time
I suppose that means I had better make good use of it
Anything else would be disrespectful
I just hope I am up to the challenge
I’m not much for lessons but there are many here
Though right now I am of no mind to preach them
Only to store them away so I may recall them when I am selfish
Perhaps they’ll steer me through troubled waters
He had always done that before, kept me going
So I try now to fight my nature and quiet the cynic in me
Which thinks this proves my actions mean nothing
Then I hear him scream and feel him twitch
I think only there is no reason for this
So I hope nay I pray that I am right and God does not exist
Because for this I would never forgive him
Comfortable
They do their very best I know, there is nothing more they can do
But this seems cruel to him, there should be a cure
I am not content with comfortable, not okay with the status quo
I do not blame the doctors but I would like to
Anger is my natural response
So I write my anger on this page so that I don’t act out
No need to destroy something else that didn’t deserve to be destroyed
There has been enough unnecessary destruction in this room.
I know it is a foolish reaction but what else can I do
Sit and scribble like a madman, perhaps it will pull me through
I hope that you aren’t angry Dad
I hope you felt we did enough
I’ll never feel we did enough I should have done more
It was hard and I didn’t know what to say
To late now I suppose but what else can I do
Just hold your hand and wonder
What would have happened if I had just done something?
DAD
A penthouse suite for him they said
A soft bed and a ready staff
To help him in his time of need
I couldn’t help but laugh
He’s much rather be in his camper
In the woods down by the lake
Or in his barn with his tools
Seeing what he could fix or make
He had no time for sleeping in
Or lazing about the day
Things to do and places to be
He should be able to be on his way
Busy but always with time
To help family and friend
A joke to tell to perk us up
Right until the end
This is a sad and unfit ending
To a man so kind and right
I wish he were here with me now
So we could spend a night
Talking about the things
That we didn’t get to say
Then I could make sure that he knew
I loved him in every way
Each time I look at your picture
I am filled with sadness and rage
I know that was not your way
Perhaps your wisdom will come with age
An Oath
It’s pleasant to sit in rooms with old friends
Pretend we are young and carefree
To talk of time gone by
To do all we can to just be
I’ve lost much in these last few weeks
I need to run away from my pain
Pretend that it’s not encompassing me
To pretend I am not buckling under the strain
It’s a bit of sanctity that I cannot find
In my home so shattered by this loss
Though I am surrounded with love
There is great stress with being the new Boss
Shoes to fill so big, it seems
I’m like a child again
Trying to be just like him
But I don’t quite fit in
I’m trying to walk your line
But I’m not you no matter how hard I’ve tried
I have to find my own way
But I’ll use your way as my guide
Alone in a Crowd
Even in this crowded bloated metropolis in this womb of commerce
I am alone
Hundreds pass me as though I am not here
A myriad of people
Like an unkempt field full of wild flowers
Tragically Beautiful
Like the weeds in the field we are
Strangling this world
We are vapid merchandise mongers spending our barely earned funds
On trinkets
The young women parade about as scantly clad as
The weather will permit
Showing off their lithe taunt frames covered in make up to hide the slightest imperfection
Sadly beautiful are the women well past their prime who work
So diligently
To maintain the beauty that is expected of them by themselves
By all
They live at the gym eat nothing and wear uncomfortable clothes
Hoping to get ID’d
In their eyes I see sadness weariness they have reached their goal
Beautiful yet miserable
I ask you what is the point as no amount of accumulated junk can
Fill your soul
No amount of preening can make you young again
We are all lost in the crowd
A Question
Suppose I wandered beyond the fence, just for a while.
What would you say? What would you think?
Could you forgive? Chalk it up to a restless spirit or
Would you consider it a personal slight?
Suppose I acted out of character and made some mistakes
Could you forgive me a blunder or two?
Is it asking too much? I think I should know already
Yet here I am wondering if perhaps you might
Forgive me my transgressions so long as I came home
But is that really me talking or just temptations song
Would I risk wronging you for a stroll outside the fence?
It doesn’t seem wise at all and wouldn’t I be a sight
If I did and you could not forgive me for my wrong
A crying man child balling outside the fence
Wishing I hadn’t been such a fool
Wishing I had kept the gate locked tight
Yes I wonder now and then, there are so many pretty things
Outside the fence on the other side where desire grows
I think I am wise enough to not allow myself
To get lost in some empty hollow flight
Imprint
They’ll continue my war right or wrong
To perpetuate my ruse of being strong
The Beauty Missed
Why can’t I see the beauty in everything around?
In solemn observation why am I always bound
I always see the underbelly or the tragedy to come
I focus on the grim and dark why is all I see so glum?
If only I could appreciate the warmth of a summer breeze
Without giving thought to the fast approaching freeze
When I see a flower why can’t I marvel at its bloom?
Without thinking of its coming death in the chilly autumn gloom
Must all I see be tainted, must nothing be enjoyed?
Why are all my thoughts so angry with only hatred employed?
Just once I’d like to watch the sunrise and view it as a joy
To revel in the sound of the laughter of a happy little boy
Without the dread of what’s to come upon this dawning day
Or the fear of what the world will do steal his laughter away
I’d like to see a rose and not remember her, just enjoy the smell
I’d rather not equate my breath with another day in hell
The loss of intelligence
Once it seemed to come so easy
They were not hard to understand
The writer’s song, poetic verse
Were all at my command
But it seems I am a fool
I’ve lost my comprehension
So difficult to hold a thought
To capture my attention
Was it the arrogance of youth?
Or have I lost some part inside
The things that made me something more
Have I hurled it all aside?
To become a slave to toxic food
And the burning pleasure of my booze
Did somewhere in this doldrums life
My very life force ooze
From my pours unto the ground
Did all my talent flee?
Have I lost my chance to effect?
Am I like a dieing tree?
Still looming large and standing tall
But my roots engorged with rot
Will I fall with the next great gust?
I hope it wasn’t all for not
Rattle
The rattle will haunt me, it will linger with me
Echoing in my head, He is not even gone and I already miss him
There he lay in an emancipated state
It breaks me inside as I listen to him struggle
On the outside I seem to be frozen, unable to cry
Perhaps I have dried up. It seems I have been crying for hours upon hours
Days upon Days
I hear the fluid gurgling in his chest
Then he moans and I shutter as there is nothing I can do
She rambles on to whom ever will listen
Endless nonsense
It maddens me and perhaps it shouldn’t
The holy man comes with good intentions but
I find his presence unsettling
I wish he would leave, and we could leave
I want to go home and I want Dad to come with us
We have things to do, work to be done
Much better ways to spend our time
He deserved more time, more life more of everything
This is his reward?
The rattle will haunt me but the injustice
The injustice threatens to drive me mad
A Cynics Prayer
We sit here waiting, hearts stopping with each pause in his breathing
Emotions raging, I am uncertain what to hope for
This suffering is uncalled for, he deserved so much more
My kingdom, my soul to have one more week with him
One more week of good health and good times
I would take his place if he’d let me but
I am certain that he would never accept the trade
I wonder though if he might not do a better job with the time
I suppose that means I had better make good use of it
Anything else would be disrespectful
I just hope I am up to the challenge
I’m not much for lessons but there are many here
Though right now I am of no mind to preach them
Only to store them away so I may recall them when I am selfish
Perhaps they’ll steer me through troubled waters
He had always done that before, kept me going
So I try now to fight my nature and quiet the cynic in me
Which thinks this proves my actions mean nothing
Then I hear him scream and feel him twitch
I think only there is no reason for this
So I hope nay I pray that I am right and God does not exist
Because for this I would never forgive him
Comfortable
They do their very best I know, there is nothing more they can do
But this seems cruel to him, there should be a cure
I am not content with comfortable, not okay with the status quo
I do not blame the doctors but I would like to
Anger is my natural response
So I write my anger on this page so that I don’t act out
No need to destroy something else that didn’t deserve to be destroyed
There has been enough unnecessary destruction in this room.
I know it is a foolish reaction but what else can I do
Sit and scribble like a madman, perhaps it will pull me through
I hope that you aren’t angry Dad
I hope you felt we did enough
I’ll never feel we did enough I should have done more
It was hard and I didn’t know what to say
To late now I suppose but what else can I do
Just hold your hand and wonder
What would have happened if I had just done something?
DAD
A penthouse suite for him they said
A soft bed and a ready staff
To help him in his time of need
I couldn’t help but laugh
He’s much rather be in his camper
In the woods down by the lake
Or in his barn with his tools
Seeing what he could fix or make
He had no time for sleeping in
Or lazing about the day
Things to do and places to be
He should be able to be on his way
Busy but always with time
To help family and friend
A joke to tell to perk us up
Right until the end
This is a sad and unfit ending
To a man so kind and right
I wish he were here with me now
So we could spend a night
Talking about the things
That we didn’t get to say
Then I could make sure that he knew
I loved him in every way
Each time I look at your picture
I am filled with sadness and rage
I know that was not your way
Perhaps your wisdom will come with age
An Oath
It’s pleasant to sit in rooms with old friends
Pretend we are young and carefree
To talk of time gone by
To do all we can to just be
I’ve lost much in these last few weeks
I need to run away from my pain
Pretend that it’s not encompassing me
To pretend I am not buckling under the strain
It’s a bit of sanctity that I cannot find
In my home so shattered by this loss
Though I am surrounded with love
There is great stress with being the new Boss
Shoes to fill so big, it seems
I’m like a child again
Trying to be just like him
But I don’t quite fit in
I’m trying to walk your line
But I’m not you no matter how hard I’ve tried
I have to find my own way
But I’ll use your way as my guide
Alone in a Crowd
Even in this crowded bloated metropolis in this womb of commerce
I am alone
Hundreds pass me as though I am not here
A myriad of people
Like an unkempt field full of wild flowers
Tragically Beautiful
Like the weeds in the field we are
Strangling this world
We are vapid merchandise mongers spending our barely earned funds
On trinkets
The young women parade about as scantly clad as
The weather will permit
Showing off their lithe taunt frames covered in make up to hide the slightest imperfection
Sadly beautiful are the women well past their prime who work
So diligently
To maintain the beauty that is expected of them by themselves
By all
They live at the gym eat nothing and wear uncomfortable clothes
Hoping to get ID’d
In their eyes I see sadness weariness they have reached their goal
Beautiful yet miserable
I ask you what is the point as no amount of accumulated junk can
Fill your soul
No amount of preening can make you young again
We are all lost in the crowd
A Question
Suppose I wandered beyond the fence, just for a while.
What would you say? What would you think?
Could you forgive? Chalk it up to a restless spirit or
Would you consider it a personal slight?
Suppose I acted out of character and made some mistakes
Could you forgive me a blunder or two?
Is it asking too much? I think I should know already
Yet here I am wondering if perhaps you might
Forgive me my transgressions so long as I came home
But is that really me talking or just temptations song
Would I risk wronging you for a stroll outside the fence?
It doesn’t seem wise at all and wouldn’t I be a sight
If I did and you could not forgive me for my wrong
A crying man child balling outside the fence
Wishing I hadn’t been such a fool
Wishing I had kept the gate locked tight
Yes I wonder now and then, there are so many pretty things
Outside the fence on the other side where desire grows
I think I am wise enough to not allow myself
To get lost in some empty hollow flight
Imprint
Publication Date: 08-15-2010
All Rights Reserved
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