Tuesday, January 17, 2017

End of the Circus End of Good Times - by - Bob Atkinson

End of the Circus
End of Good Times
(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

sweet dreams of audience screams
clowns who populated cars so small
high wire, acrobats, trapeze
elephants, tigers, lions, monkeys, macaws

all these things we saw up close
in a big top held up with ropes
barkers on a midway run
games to play outside for fun

all gone now

here in my lifetime a taste for reality
replaced by mechanical screens
effects created by computer
no interest anymore in realistic things

but now I find 'tis cycle time
where past repeats itself

all we knew when we were young
find ways to re-purpose themselves

most pleasant hide-out of tomorrow
will have none of science showing
a simple world for simple souls
flowers growing in peaceful gardens

sound of mechanical oddities
gone from everyday life
nothing seen of computer screens
wood cut with saw held tight

feel I might not survive that world
I'm such a wimp today
leverage of a million years
no longer here displayed

so many dreams to think about
won't find an answer yet
my mind's so clouded with doubt
but had to get it off my chest

about these changes I'm forced to endure
wish stability now and then
but when I'm forced to stand still
I find laments begin

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Devolution A World Devolved - by - Bob Atkinson

A World Devolved
(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

sense we've turned a corner
in our world of fine fixed minds
where we've become accustomed
to variations without rhyme

those simple institutions which
find nothing here of note
I'm in a vast confusion
about these things here I have wrote

do my reflex feelings
come from deep down in my heart
or do they reflect passages burned
by media's techniques of minded rot

for everywhere I look I find
them telling me how to feel
I don't respond well to terror
or some altruistic zeal

for those who think they know good truth
in reality know nothing new
they're only in this for ego
to assemble a controlled crew

which feeds their self-image
a preponderance of rage
and kills those innocent of guilt
while keeping freedom caged

I find this situation
irritating in the least
for whomever keeps me from life
deserves to lie at my feet

an open invitation to
those who force themselves on us
and keep us in a bind
with their varieties of lust

lust for power and control
I give you not that over me
for I am a simple soul
wanting to be free

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Sophistication of Voice - by - Bob Atkinson

Sophistication of Voice
(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

say this how you will
in a certain snippet of time
your sophistication dawdles
in open sets of rhyme

I don't feel inclusive
don't feel comfortable at all
in my use of language
could be my downfall

set down for you emotions
of a simple mortal man
a tribute to institutions of
an event without a plan

how do we progress in culture
without concern for how we write
without a line of arrogance
or even gentle light

my own experience in this
carries nothing much of note
just simple words for simple minds
in everything I've wrote

so many little words held up
for ridicule and jest
which sends a message to you
gets this off my chest

I'm not one to dawdle on
little nothings of ideas
but here lies an open question
bringing up my fears

fears I won't match those words
to my every whim
and leave you wondering how I can
collect them in a bin

and throw them as if sharp darts
at walls of indecision
bringing something to your table
with or without derision

take this open pleading for
an epic or dust pan
but never stop believing in
capabilities of man

Monday, January 9, 2017

An Army to Conquer An Army to Protect - by - Bob Atkinson

(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

here in middle continent
we form a battle band
to project our authority
both here, and beyond our land

a society becomes a creature
tries everything of note
to influence beyond fixed borders
government without a single vote

outcomes of senseless struggle
rebels without good cause
those who would harm peace
taking life spark from us all

my feelings swell inside me always
when thinking about these facts
face flushes with emotion
when viewing tanks with tracks

and guns which carry bullets
boots with which to march
backpacks carrying all needs
for a killer pawn's departure

knowing first hand that we
as an army have no voice
in bringing civil nature to
another country's coasts

makes me sad when reflecting
how we deviate from real
sinking down deep to find
our courage and our zeal

perhaps without these travesties
we never would evolve
into a force of nature
with courage and resolve

this thought finds comfort for
my conflict here in mind
do we try to pretend greatness
by slapping down our kind

or do we equate emotions
courage, fanfare, marching through
a world without open borders
where violence pays its due

pays homage to a past
where the vicious found their mark
and tortured all who opposed
their view of nature's spark