Mark My Words

Poems by Tonn Pastore

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Don't miss Tonn at the JaxbyJax Literary Arts Festival 2018 in Riverside! Tonn also frequently presents at area open mics. 


Like white paint
bleeding into blue poster board
chemtrails expand across the sky.
Color sifts, drifts, dissipates drops.
Look skyward and wonder
some ask why we don’t look under
blanket of deception that is so clear
yet completely covers the truth.

Each day of the week criss-crossing
planes crop dust our astrosphere
covering us with a pollen of lies.
Lies that hide lies, lies that surprise
lies we don’t want to know.

All politics are local.
Banks are our friends.
Our food is safe.
Presidents are qualified.
The soft downy wool is being
pulled over our eyes.

But it is soft, light as air
it seems only fair to accept
what they tell us.
Why would they lie?
The future for us
is as high as that sky.

Lies cover Ferguson
Fallujah and Philadelphia.
Dust deadens our resolve
removes our revolution.
Disbelief bleeds into the landscape.
Attila the Hun

Attila’s a Hun, when he’s all done
    he’s got what he came to get.
He’s pillaged and plundered your feelings
    asunder, all you get is regret.

I guess it was fun with Attila the Hun
    it’s not everyday that you meet,
the leader of a Chinese Mongol horde,
    that you just can’t beat.

When you’ve been done by Attila the Hun
    your body is no longer your own.
Your ego’s deflated, your body is sated,
    you’re best to be left alone.

Attila’s a honey when you give him money,
    he’ll perform for you pay-per-view.
Give him a reward, he’ll show you his sword,
    he’ll do it right on cue.

Once it’s begun, Attila’s the one to finish
    what he’s gotten started.
No army can stop his invasion of you,
    he’ll leave you broken hearted.

Copyright © 2018 Tonn Pastore