Say What?

I really debated about making a blog entry with this poem. I wrote it many years ago and I know it's very dark. Depressing. But for some reason it's coming back around to me and in an attempt to be true to what is that strange thing inside I call a spark of creativity, here it is.

At the time I wrote it I was contemplating on how exactly over 900 people would follow a mad man to their death - it had to start somewhere far from that moment when they took their lives and even the lives of their family members. I think it's so important to be careful in religious matters - and not so gullible. People do deceive others and some of them MEAN TO. Anyway, here it is - And turn back if you want to be reading a more uplifting message!

A Kool Aid pile of persons                    

longing for a taste  of

the Promised Land.

An abstract presentation,

performance art of futility

and a colossal lack of planning.

The connecting sinews show in

the promises made…

then discarded…

dumb sheep following blindly

the mad man.

The old model car

making a noise through town,

ugly it seems and

the sameness of your breath makes

the day less important when…

Oh, it’s not a choice to be

so unsatisfied.

It happened naturally,

by comparison.

When the media god spoke

the review was wanting

and

the canned promise of better productions

allured the players to the story

then to the story teller

then to…

Their last glimpse was of

empty eyes.