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image for Selections from Poetically Incorrect Selections from Poetically Incorrect
by Brian Eckert

Avoidable If Discernment Spreads

A plague suffocates the land
One which cannot be seen
Nor touched, nor heard
It grows within us
Its structure dependent upon our decay
Irresponsibility the fuel for its success

A plague has no morals, no ethics
It does not discriminate or pass judgement
Once the bane of a minority
It now contaminates the majority
The sanguinity that unites man
Now tears it apart

Victimes must coincide with torture
Torture of living, yet dying
It knows no expedient end
Nor merciful ending
Physical pain pales in comparison
To the anguish of an imminent death

The Final Frontier

Upon a material battlefield
A lone tower stretches towards the heavens
The adjacent ivory missile lies poised for attack
Ready to duel with the brink of human advancement

This is a battle of mythic proportions
Forged of dreams
Strengthened by reality
Swung by the hope of millions

Fiery propulsions excite the morning air
Elevating the weapon of mass construction
The familiarity of mother earth becomes but a memory
As an alien frontier floods the senses

The ghost of science past breathes in new life
As the ghost of science future breathes a sigh of relief
What once was science fiction
Is now the first chapter in its biology

The craft sets down upon a barren surface
Virgin soil disrupted
As mankind tests its intellectual prowess
Destructive capabilities are simultaneously extended

One small step for man
One giant leap for mankind
One small reality for the present
One giant possibility for the future

Storming of the Winter Palace

The stone palace shivers upon its foundation as icy cold tentacles constrict the land.  Inside, a light mood warms the chill air, and hopeful talk brightens spirits.  The golden cup of freedom is held high in toast, the echo of tinking glasses resounding in agreement.  Outside, a procession of ill intent creeps upon the palace grounds with inspiration as cold as the winter night.  Greed-heavy personas leave deep footrpints in the blanketed earth, marking the only sign of their passage.  The palace is soon inundated by the power hungry fiends, bloodshed the only remedy for their pangs of inadequacy.  The golden cup, once held high, now falls as its bearer is cut from beneath it.  Cries of pain and outrage echo through the high arched ceiling, lost among a barren landscape.  The sanguinity of brotherhood slicks the floor, straining the gilded cup a deep crimson.  The shadow of a broad form looms forbiddingly over the carnage.  It reaches down to pry the goblet from a white knuckled hand that maintains an obstinate hold even in death.

Stony Solitude

Fortified stone stretches as far as the eye can see
A giant blemish on the face of the earth
As cold and dark as those who built it
Bringing a shiver to the warmest night air
Keeping loves ones apart
Enslaved ones together
Symbolizing cold war
And cold hearts
Not even vermin dare scurry beneath a crack
Nor insect scale its icy height
A concrete fortress that entraps freedom
Sets a deadly snare for hope
None dare utter a flagrant word
In fear their prison will grow only higher
Shackles bound more tightly
Yet the soul of freedom knows no bounds
Shall not be tacit
Thoughts of rebellion inspire words
Words inspire action
Action inspires movement
Until a crack appears
Then a break
And soon hope streams through gaping holes
To reveal freedom standing atop crumbled oppresion

Mechanization For All

Oh say can you see
    By the factory's bright light
What so proudly we hailed
    While the farmers left weeping
Whose slight pay and dull life
    Through a twenty hour work day
Gave proof through the night
   Their weary bodies still weaving
And the smokestacks did blare
    Smog filling the air
Children walk through the night
    To a job of despair
Oh say does that assembly line yet bleed
    In the land of surplus
And the home of greed

Brian Eckert is currently pursuing a degree in political science at the University of New Hampshire.



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