Strider Marcus Jones's Blog: https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/, page 25
February 2, 2020
December 11, 2016
Thankye to The Bees Are Dead for publishing my poem The Samaritan Machine Re Person Of Interest-US TV Series http://www.thebeesaredead.com/poetry/...
THE SAMARITAN MACHINE – STRIDER MARCUS JONES
POSTED ON DECEMBER 10, 2016
this field pond
is only my
dissolved
imagination-
thought drops
of summer rain
making fractal ripples
drumbeat on skin.
a portal shared
with cawing crows
reveals
who scams and snoops and shoots
in contract conversations.
this windsong
of Virginia Creeper,
ruling Bear and Wolfsbane
rustling in black bamboo
trusts its Samaritan Machine
telling it who to redact
in this imposed
dystopian
equilibrium
of dumbed-down masses
worshipping Carousel.
http://www.thebeesaredead.com/poetry/samaritan-machine-strider-marcus-jones/
December 3, 2016
Really chuffed to have a poem in The Recusant http://www.therecusant.org.uk/
Strider Marcus Jones
Weeds Left
weeds left,
wilt in the sun
without work and water.
their seeds
are the wild flowers,
waiting for volcanic wind
and ash to fall,
so the fertile cinders
can colonise herbaceous borders
ending the old age
of selfish sediment
treading it down
in molecules of time.
another Marxist
dons his trench coat
and tears pages from his red book
planting the old words
of revolution
in minds of homogenous compost.
over-privileged gallows begin to swing.
bullets sweat in their chambers
waiting for the right heads.
Strider Marcus Jones © 2016
http://www.therecusant.org.uk/#/strider-marcus-jones-poem/4593300107
November 27, 2016
November 26, 2016
The Bees Are Dead: **PUBLICATION ANNOUNCEMENT** Well, it’s not very often that you’ll see a rhyming poem on a hip-and-happening, politically conscious, pessimistically grey-scale webzine such as The Bees Are Dead. But. ‘The Mad Hatter Hiding in Dark Matter
THE MAD HATTER HIDING IN DARK MATTER
in our house
i binned the radio
for playing Strauss-
left the suited rodeo
of casino Faust
and shot the gentry shooting grouse.
into the wild garden
without spun jargon
we went
through rusting arch of rose dissent
onto the precipice of peace
where slush borders grip and grease
like usurping tectonic plates
shapeshifting smaller states.
their innocents bombed and dispossessed
join our shoaled oppressed
of obedient possessed-
while The Mad Hatter
hiding in Dark Matter-
says blame them, instead of Strauss
in suits playing casino Faust
and enslaving gentry shooting grouse.
The Mad Hatter Hiding in Dark Matter – Strider Marcus Jones
November 9, 2016
Gloopy Bitumen by Strider Marcus Jones
don’t wait for me,
i’ve got to go
before the treason
on the grassy knoll
that broke a generations
golden dream,
becomes sanguinary
back to stream.
each time a hero comes-
he falls,
God made a Black man King-
uniting races, breaching walls
to make just history
begin,
all gunned down
but seeds sown in.
Marx and Engels
told the truth,
while Che and Lenin
gave it youth-
but power picks, the scabs of politics,
infesting minds and skin-
silencing subversive lips
in shoals of gloopy bitumen.
riding
on the back of Eagle,
imitating
acting legal-
two Brothers
of the Gold and Blood,
homogenise
the neighbourhood;
but Others
shun these hand me downs,
and gather
in Their fields and towns-
questioning
this status quo-
with lores and lost philosophies
to mend this Age we break and sow.
Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and ex civil servant…
View original post 62 more words
Gloopy Bitumen by Strider Marcus Jones
don’t wait for me, i’ve got to go before the treason on the grassy knoll that broke a generations golden dream, becomes sanguinary back to stream. each time a hero comes- he falls, God …
Source: Gloopy Bitumen by Strider Marcus Jones
https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/
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