Monday, April 11, 2011

Third Place in The Political Poet Poetry Contest

Passionate Crosshairs

It’s too late to panic, there are crosshairs
all over everything, it’s rutting season
and America is shedding common sense.

Political correctness has taken offense,
and has lined up the cross hairs on the
crosshairs of crosshairs, and it’s stroking
the trigger lovingly, seductively… breathe.

The metaphors have drawn their swords,
and the battleplan defies all definition.
The tyrants of fantasy demand the right to
control wagging tongues, reality be damned.

Crosshairs are to be outlawed for optimal
inaccuracy, you have the right to arm your
mind but you can’t be allowed to see… hold.

In the sight of optical allusion, a metaphors
last stand, a definition surrounded by passion,
by bloodlust, by a language of hateful rhetoric.
Surrender is not an option, resistance must die.

The battle cry is semantic and imagination is
burned, the dictionaries pages torn by intellectual
efforts designed to appease the unbalanced evil
that parades as a deranged berserker killing
everything in its path, ignorant of orders… pull.

The shot has been fired, it travels the fine line
of the crosshairs but the metaphor is too fast.
Hiding behind innocence the bullet finds its
mark, and the truth bleeds out by definition.

Now in shackles the metaphor of imagination
is lead shuffling, its feet in the chains of opinion.
A scapegoat, captured and tortured until a guilty
confession is obtained, back by popular demand.
A metaphor, drawn and quartered, in the crosshairs.

by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

About the Author Virgil R. Hall II

I play with the fire in my head and as my soul burns I try my best to translate the empathy of my mind’s eye. That's all; I am but a camera taking snapshots through the shutter of my soul. Trash or treasure is all a matter of perspective. As long as it is fun and entertaining I will continue to write and explore the melding of images, poetry and music. Virgil R. Hall II is my given name; "MrDaMan" is my internet nick which I have adopted as a pen name of sorts.

My friends know me simply as Randy. Destiny is the road we travel, not the destination. I am but a Humblebee floating in empathy. My path currently lies in Southern California.

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