Crooked Kings' Crock

by Eric Bare

Check all premises
Crawl low in the smoke
Don't follow the mirrors
That plot and provoke
Shed salty tears
Upon the violent flames' wall
Mind good reason
When the acid rains fall

Welcome to the Warlords' Auction
Where blood is bartered, oil for gold
Soldiers and holy rollers
Lay your weapons down
Don't believe a word of what's been told

Lie gently, wisely
In the shifty bogs
Slip keenly through the mire
Free the warming frogs
From crooked kings' crock
That seethes and boils
Leave the stewing dim herd
To their complacent toils

Welcome to the World War Auction
Calcutta was never so bold
Ladies and gentlemen
Lay your money down
To the highest bidder Earth is sold

©2007 Eric Bare

This Padded Room

by Eric Bare

The role this world plays is type-cast
And the cast, prototypes.
I hide in the spin and pretend
To believe in half the hype

While I stand on my head in a puddle centered in this padded room
And caution the demons that don't go away.
Like allies who share bitter victories after each had tolls to pay,
I draw a line at the puddles scattered 'round this padded room.

Crooked Kings turn the world on end
With puppets on parade.
I hide in the spin and pretend
To be fooled by the masquerade.

Standing on a throne with broken legs in the middle of this padded room,
Crooked Kings laugh with demons at play.
While jesters wrestle over half a crown to win half a kingdom someday,
they all tumble in the puddles scattered 'round this padded room.

Half the bloody world has gone mad
And the other, half as gone.
I hide in the spin and pretend
To watch half a show go on

While I stand on my head in a puddle centered in this padded room
And reason with my demons all day.
Like lovers who share sinless failures and lessons learned the hard way,
We go dancing past the puddles scattered 'round this padded room...

This padded room.

©2012 Eric Bare