POEMS


Mitzraim

Regulation, obedience, and enforcement…the men in green stand keenly vigil

Pin-drop atmosphere…creativity, abnormality, and inner pain are hidden masked, and un-shown

Concrete floors waxed shinny with luster, mirror and reflect control, power, and anger

Long hallways artificially lit, are void of sunlight and painted with lines, directing and dividing the segregated flow of social standing

Echoing footsteps enunciate and announce the captive from the captors…
The incarcerated and the jailors, is the world so black & white?

My nerves writher…

Bulk and brawn, manicured neatly, our hosts are adorned with accessories of detainment…silver bracelets and black leather…their costumes contrasting the straight and gay blues, green, and orange suited residents

Entering the inner bowels of reform, my breath practically lost and a heartbeat missed as I further my descent…

Uncountable welds, barrels of rust-proof paint, and vats of disinfectant subdue the caverns…counterfeiting decency in the catacombs, their subterranean world…void of any elements organic

Up an escalator; the fan-blown passageway, whose artificial winds cannot stop feelings, stench, or suffering from settling and collecting, the inmates pathology is too powerful to be muted by synthetic order

Murals on the walls propagandize…”Might is Right,” the masses shall not rise; consequences implied include broken bones, torn flesh and spirits smashed beyond repair

Do the perpetrators or the enforcers understand or grasp the insidiousness of their lot?

Do our captors impose harshness like a parent who wields a switch to the rebellious child, or are they merely cyborgs strapped, locked and loaded?

Is meaning or ideal at the heart of the institution…correctional or deconstruct-ional…do the herdsmen rehabilitate, or decimate the cattle’s souls?

The barred shtetel certainly houses those unsavory, sociopathic and dangerous…but what about the meek, misguided and spiritually sick?

Has our society, politicians and government missed the mark?

Do our hearts still feel, or has fear shut them down to the point of reckless abandon?

Who’s at fault…the captor, captive or bystander…or all?

I will look inside my heart for hope, and to the Supreme I will beckon, only there shall I find the Answer…