Poetry by Scott Thomas Outlar Art by YEN FAN Shih
I see an Eagle in the sky.
It has claws that will tear
into the fabric of creation
and spill the spitfire lies
all over the burnt horizon.
It has two wings that symbolize
the false paradigm
of a political structure
meant to pull the wool
over the eyes
It has a tongue that will lick
the cancer from your broken bones
as they dehydrate on the side of the road
after getting run over in the fast lane
of this perpetual motion machine
called life without mercy.
It has no compassion nor empathy
for its victims; in fact,
it rather enjoys drinking the blood
from the spilt vein of a martyr middle class.
It perches high atop crosses
and waits for holy crucifixions
in the dried out desert of nowhere.
It is kin to both the vultures
and the serpents –
cold blooded in its bull’s-eye approach
to target practice precision.
It has a keen 20/20 focus
that will never be averted
until the goal of Armageddon
has been fulfilled in all its horrific scavenger splendor.
At some point there shall come an explosion,
more intense than the Big Bang,
louder than an atom bomb,
deadlier than a volcanic eruption –
an explosion of pent up frustration
let loose upon a sleeping species
to cause a rift upon the land
and etch a line into the sand
which clearly marks a point of delineation
between those who will evolve
and those who head toward extinction.
The explosion that is coming
has been heralded for eons
by those who sensed its impending approach,
but now, in this very day and age,
the time of quickening has accelerated,
causing the force of upheaval to pressurize
in the collective consciousness of man.
the tortured neuron fissures are on the verge
of shattering into a divided schism.
Mass delusion and cognitive dissonance
are no longer viable excuses
with which to ward off the explosion.
Those who are able to adapt
through the necessary psychological changes
will survive and breed a new race.
Those who succumb to their own
mental weaknesses will be tossed aside
like rag dolls by the shifting cycle of time.
There is an explosion on the way.
Good God, I can hardly wait
until the day after it takes its shot.
The fire is coming from the clouds
from the hills
from the canyons
up from the ocean depths
The fire is coming whether
you are ready or not
whether you are protected by God
whether you have made your peace or not
The fire is coming from the hand
of Man’s self destructive urges
that run primal and parallel
to the will of evolution
and threaten to cancel out all formulaic
propositions of growth pattern agendas
The fire is coming
and it is angry
and it is sorrowful
and it is compassionless in its momentum
toward a goal of implosive exhaustion
The fire is coming to extinguish
all that has yet to be burned
in a revelation ceremony
designed to return the world to its first form
of ash to ash
and dust to dust deliverance
The fire is coming
as a miracle
as a saving grace
as the truest force of raw power
to ever sweep across this earth
The fire has come
The fire has…
Scott Thomas Outlar spends the days flowing and fluxing with the tide of the Tao River, laughing at life’s existential mysteries, dancing to the rhythms of nature’s celestial song, and writing prose-fusion poetry dedicated to the Phoenix Generation. He recently took the plunge into the social media experiment by creating 17numa.wordpress.com where more about his writing can be found.