RONNIE M LANE

 

 

Oiling The War Machine

 

The creaking gets louder if it isn’t fed

Grinding of bones to make the bread

Water the flag until the stripes are all red

Taking turns being the bad guy

(He’s the one who has what you want)

Time marches its soldiers forward

Not really on anyone’s side for sure

Sink the ships like big golf balls

Hole in the ocean waiting to close

Land mines dig their own holes

Bullets make little holes

Missile holes on the grander scale

Dollars fly off the press and into the fray

Counting on the losers to have to pay

It doesn’t take as long as it used to

Knuckle down knuckle under

Someone blinks someone blunders

Somewhere else kindling ignites

Finish here and move on

To the next holdup.

 

Cuber On My Mind

 

Digging for dominoes in the sand

knowing if you line up enough of them

you get art of a sort.

 

Scratching an itch with fire,

burning bridges

between people and their souls.

 

Picking your teeth with missiles,

flossing the life out

of everyone else’s molars.

 

Bombs over Tokyo is an old slogan

with interchangeable cities.

 

Smoking a Cuban

could soon mean

something much darker

than stains on your teeth.

 

Hotsy totsy another nazi,

words that apply

to non-Nazis also.

 

Missile sculpted landscape

pocked like Swiss cheese, 

sandwiched between sliced families

and creamed dreams

with a side of deep, dark depression

and excessive misery.

 

You can’t say your mama

wears combat boots

anymore, we all do.

 

History Is Of Ages Past

 

Sunshine ignites butterfly thinking

in a cocoon of isolation,

warming a heart that longs to cry out

 

Dreams fall into a dumpster of regret,

out of control, in spite of good intentions

 

Future heart softly lying

in the ears of yesterday

convince the heart to forgive

 

The noise of goodwill

embraces the fire of anger and revenge

 

Guarding the facts handles gushy grief

by funneling it off to one side

 

Beams of shadows hollow heaven

with thoughts that are dark

 

Huddled highways of holograms

point the wrong way home

 

Hooks on an arch of suffering

hold the bodies of broken dreams

 

Blues enough for illusion

object to happy moments of delusion

 

Infinite ink runs home

to the broken stylus of a pretender

 

Bestow intent inside the beauty of thunderstorms

and the tornadoes of ill will will reveal themselves

 

Handfuls of cloud obscure the issues with tears

but the faces of conflict will give themselves away

 

Embrace emptiness with grace

and peace may fill the space

 

Loose nights point to ruin

as dawn burns away excuses

 

A malaise of kindness spreads across the land

soothing the weak and silencing the proud

 

Lying strangers mask efflusion of the heart

with feigned affection for final solutions

 

Map of kindness make natives malodorous

because the secret is out and no one is to blame

 

Veracious mirrors of faith

lie broken in a sea of bad luck

 

Outside problems misplace messages

that never got sent with false hope

 

RONNIE M LANE

 

RONNIE M LANE: He was born on August 13, 1949 in Blytheville, Arkansas, USA. He received his formal education at Grand Valley State University, Allendale Michigan USA. He is married to Judy Osinga Lane and resides in Lake Placid, Florida USA. He is the author of many volumes of poetry including most recently BOTH SIDES OF THE WALL 2020, RAGNAR 2026, SEA GREEN DREAMS 2026, DARKNESS COMES SMILING 2026 and contributing editor of 3 VOICES ACROSS 3 CONTINENTS.