Submissions by fred_r_kane (fred r kane)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
How you doin?
SONG LYRICS
Published
13th Jul 2014 2:30pm
13th Jul 2014 2:30pm
Gun Point
If I brought it with blood, then the blood is all that you’d ever see.
Yeah, it’s easy to condemn the messenger- thinking your conscience is clean.
But you never hear the spoken word concerning indignities,
because delusions of the righteous can be heard anytime on anybody’s machine.
Like a spoon fed monster gone postal and off to his paradise,
after painting his home with blood and kissing his wife goodbye;
I stare into the face of the gun, from which, my reflection shines,
and I reflect on the ways that have failed to liberate Palestine. ...
Yeah, it’s easy to condemn the messenger- thinking your conscience is clean.
But you never hear the spoken word concerning indignities,
because delusions of the righteous can be heard anytime on anybody’s machine.
Like a spoon fed monster gone postal and off to his paradise,
after painting his home with blood and kissing his wife goodbye;
I stare into the face of the gun, from which, my reflection shines,
and I reflect on the ways that have failed to liberate Palestine. ...
56 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
14th Jun 2014 9:32pm
14th Jun 2014 9:32pm
The power of preservatives
www.thehorrorzine.com/Poetry/Aug2013/FredRKane/FredKane.html
31 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
14th Jun 2014 9:30pm
14th Jun 2014 9:30pm
Eating Vegetables
www.thehorrorzine.com/Poetry/June2012/FredKane/Kane.html
30 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
12th Jun 2014 4:57pm
12th Jun 2014 4:57pm
Reaching Elena (my Sweet Pareidolia)
She believed in the Christian afterlife, still,
Elena shrugged off eternal damnation
and took herself out. Oh, deed.
Pretty much the ending I would’ve envisioned:
dirt and flowers.
Somewhat poetic when I think about it.
She loved poetry.
From our time together, I guess it rubbed off:
an appreciation for old verse, and a belief in some kind of hereafter.
There was a time when I was indifferent to both.
It all changed one morning.
From the radio,
distinct to my unfocused ear, came
an obsolete phrase intended only for me....
Elena shrugged off eternal damnation
and took herself out. Oh, deed.
Pretty much the ending I would’ve envisioned:
dirt and flowers.
Somewhat poetic when I think about it.
She loved poetry.
From our time together, I guess it rubbed off:
an appreciation for old verse, and a belief in some kind of hereafter.
There was a time when I was indifferent to both.
It all changed one morning.
From the radio,
distinct to my unfocused ear, came
an obsolete phrase intended only for me....
98 reads
6 Comments
SONG LYRICS
Published
12th Jun 2014 4:06pm
12th Jun 2014 4:06pm
The Apocalypse Bastard
The Apocalypse Mother
(stood up at the alter,)
sold her bastard blue baby
to some red-righteous father.
As for the fair child,
look and you’ll find him
beating plowshare to sword
while the son hangs behind him.
Sure as the sun turns the leaves,
before the book closes cover,
we will mourn the daisy head
of the apocalypse
mother.
The linen white faithful,
in the midst of The Fall,
each with a prayer for their shield
they go as they’re called
to the plain of Megiddo ...
(stood up at the alter,)
sold her bastard blue baby
to some red-righteous father.
As for the fair child,
look and you’ll find him
beating plowshare to sword
while the son hangs behind him.
Sure as the sun turns the leaves,
before the book closes cover,
we will mourn the daisy head
of the apocalypse
mother.
The linen white faithful,
in the midst of The Fall,
each with a prayer for their shield
they go as they’re called
to the plain of Megiddo ...
51 reads
2 Comments
SONG LYRICS
Published
12th Oct 2013 9:00pm
12th Oct 2013 9:00pm
Everything goes
By way of my spiritless reasoning
I take in what I see. It’s just
territory marked by a neutered dog
so I guess it all belongs to me.
No one guards the gates tonight;
the barbarian 's moving in,
yeah, the holy creed kept shifting shapes
now it’s anything goes again.
Everything goes.
Poet, cover my eyes describe what I see,
but no one cares to hear
unless there’s an image that gets into the skin
and the drugs are in the air.
“Follow me,” your blind kin say,
“I’ll lead you where we...
I take in what I see. It’s just
territory marked by a neutered dog
so I guess it all belongs to me.
No one guards the gates tonight;
the barbarian 's moving in,
yeah, the holy creed kept shifting shapes
now it’s anything goes again.
Everything goes.
Poet, cover my eyes describe what I see,
but no one cares to hear
unless there’s an image that gets into the skin
and the drugs are in the air.
“Follow me,” your blind kin say,
“I’ll lead you where we...
59 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
15th Sep 2013 11:22am
15th Sep 2013 11:22am
another image in a rear-view dusk
So, we’re crusin- Wyatt Fonda, Billy Hopper
(on those famous panhead choppers,)
and me, out of place, on my Triumph:
a 21st century, Brit impersonation of Billy’s own machine.
I’m in a mutated late sixties biker film scenario:
my back against a desert highway sunset:
riding east.
The road noise replaced by the sound of
Paul Brady and the Forest Rangers doin’
Gimme Shelter.
The rear-view: mirror framed display of Utah:
Monument Valley, drenched in reds and oranges
(the place of Hollywood imaginary westerns).
Sound over replaced: ...
(on those famous panhead choppers,)
and me, out of place, on my Triumph:
a 21st century, Brit impersonation of Billy’s own machine.
I’m in a mutated late sixties biker film scenario:
my back against a desert highway sunset:
riding east.
The road noise replaced by the sound of
Paul Brady and the Forest Rangers doin’
Gimme Shelter.
The rear-view: mirror framed display of Utah:
Monument Valley, drenched in reds and oranges
(the place of Hollywood imaginary westerns).
Sound over replaced: ...
60 reads
1 Comment
SONG LYRICS
Published
18th Jun 2013 3:34am
18th Jun 2013 3:34am
MKULTRA : white rat perspective
One day I went and placed myself in danger;
it's a trip I had to take to see the edge.
Though madness and I were never strangers,
I always knew I'm quick enough to just be dead.
Voices said:
“I am you,
you are mine.”
A cold equation: one for many is no crime.
“I am you.
You are mine.”
All things given may be taken in due time.
They numbered me, then ground my lens to prisms:
drug induced. All patterned reasoning collides
with unfocused noise: a mental vandalism.
I seek the spectrum ordered highway I can ride.
Voices...
it's a trip I had to take to see the edge.
Though madness and I were never strangers,
I always knew I'm quick enough to just be dead.
Voices said:
“I am you,
you are mine.”
A cold equation: one for many is no crime.
“I am you.
You are mine.”
All things given may be taken in due time.
They numbered me, then ground my lens to prisms:
drug induced. All patterned reasoning collides
with unfocused noise: a mental vandalism.
I seek the spectrum ordered highway I can ride.
Voices...
#rhyming
#dark
126 reads
1 Comment
SONG LYRICS
Published
31st Mar 2013 8:00pm
31st Mar 2013 8:00pm
I can't get it right
148 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
29th Sep 2012 00:17am
29th Sep 2012 00:17am
Reflections of working class zero
After the dead and the dying are brought out,
because the radiation and microbes are too much
for your civilized baby ass-
I gotta be moving them to the temple- for blessing: the geiger-clickin’ corpses-
across the radiating sand in the heat of the uninhibited sun.
Because the temples are overloaded with those waiting to be blessed,
I gotta move the ones that have been, to the burial bus as soon as words have been spoken.
Without the temples, you science-bound atheists,
what will serve as a buffer while you try and get your shit together? ...
because the radiation and microbes are too much
for your civilized baby ass-
I gotta be moving them to the temple- for blessing: the geiger-clickin’ corpses-
across the radiating sand in the heat of the uninhibited sun.
Because the temples are overloaded with those waiting to be blessed,
I gotta move the ones that have been, to the burial bus as soon as words have been spoken.
Without the temples, you science-bound atheists,
what will serve as a buffer while you try and get your shit together? ...
150 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
29th Sep 2012 00:04am
29th Sep 2012 00:04am
The apparent, inevitable reconciliation of science and religion
Midnight.
Time bled out via sandglass wound.
The Doomsday Clock, also nailed:
hands over head, posing
the hour of reconciliation.
Apocalypse assured.
Flashback:
biopunk progeny
of a post cyberpunk Prometheus: creation gone viral.
Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.
A sick thing.
Put the spotlight on papa: call ‘em Frank.
When all is said and done,
he was just a kid with Play doh and a bobby-pin,
ready at the power socket.
Wanted to say, “It’s alive! Alive!”
Yeah, he was shocked by the results, but you got to...
Time bled out via sandglass wound.
The Doomsday Clock, also nailed:
hands over head, posing
the hour of reconciliation.
Apocalypse assured.
Flashback:
biopunk progeny
of a post cyberpunk Prometheus: creation gone viral.
Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.
A sick thing.
Put the spotlight on papa: call ‘em Frank.
When all is said and done,
he was just a kid with Play doh and a bobby-pin,
ready at the power socket.
Wanted to say, “It’s alive! Alive!”
Yeah, he was shocked by the results, but you got to...
90 reads
0 Comments
SONG LYRICS
Published
12th Jul 2012 10:20am
12th Jul 2012 10:20am
'saint Kansas (re-write)
Dorothy, you look too blown away; let's leave this joint, and take us a trip.
You're making me a man with a mission, and baby, I can tell that you're hip.
Let me throw back another shot of Jack, and get that warm glow in my guts.
You'll like me better when I'm tighter than
the Tin Man's rusted nuts.
Let's leave the losers to their cowardly lyin'.
I know a witch so sweet
she could melt in the pouring rain, and
she's got the sugar we need.
Dorothy,
you ain't
in Kansas, anymore.
Dorothy,
you know ...
You're making me a man with a mission, and baby, I can tell that you're hip.
Let me throw back another shot of Jack, and get that warm glow in my guts.
You'll like me better when I'm tighter than
the Tin Man's rusted nuts.
Let's leave the losers to their cowardly lyin'.
I know a witch so sweet
she could melt in the pouring rain, and
she's got the sugar we need.
Dorothy,
you ain't
in Kansas, anymore.
Dorothy,
you know ...
84 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by fred_r_kane (fred r kane)