Archive for August, 2014

Western World Final by Rod C. Stryker

Western World Final by Rod C. Stryker

MTV loves those estrogen-fed
dear-penthouse breasts plastered
between celluloid drama
and movie star calories
empty of any real substance.

The measure of any man’s wallet
is directly proportional
to the size of his
in Tabloid World,

we shoot holes in his trousers
and pretend we know
what’s better for him,
chained to his trophy-wife’s
smile and six-figure plastic

Propped up against
mass genocide in Third World Land
begging for equal airtime,
we dive head first
into our celebrity pools
and top rated party palaces.
Someone please stop the ride,

I’m gonna puke.

Rod C. Stryker

This poem and art photograph was published in my current book, Lucid Affairs; now in it’s 2nd edition. If you’re interested in getting a copy, click this link:



Stormy Times by kwest

Stormy Times by kwest

A two-hundred-mile-wide hurricane
emerged from my ear
and laid waste to my house, garden
and the neighbor’s immaculate
rosebush planted last year.

I wanted to name the hurricane,
but the thought was blown away
as it crashed through
Austin and Jeb’s Tune-up Shop,
Waco and ol’ Bubba’s Liquor Barn
until it finally stalled
over Jasmina’s Food Mart in Dallas,
a food mart that had the
bad luck
of sitting right next to the house
George W. Bush and family

had retired to
after the worst
8 years as President
of these United States.

When the hurricane
mercifully decided to dissipate
above Bush’s home,
neighbors and
former constituents
picked themselves up,
gathered what few remaining
belongings they could find
and dejectedly trudged
back to their
devastated homes and cities.

A few shot accusatory,
evil glances at Bush’s house
that miraculously
remained intact,
except for the missing plastic
cross that had been
stuck in the front lawn
exclaiming “This is a Godly House.”

good name.

Rod C. Stryker


A somewhat political piece. Hope you like it.

Mnemosyne by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Mnemosyne by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Heart on my sleeve,
I accidently


it and the red-stained shirt
in the dishwasher,

blood and muscle
all over the dishes,

still clean enough
to enjoy


healthy serving of wisdom,
with a side of caution.

Mop the floors

afternoons on a blanket,
years ago


heart stained shirts
and pine-scented floors

were standards,
not exceptions.

Foster these notions
Mnemosyne provides

Rod C. Stryker


A new piece. Hope you like it.

Bad Hair Day

She declares to
and news cameras
gathered in palpable excitement
on her front lawn,

“My hair is driving me nuts!”

and this terrible news causes
Canada’s economy to crater
as do the financial markets
of Australia, Ireland, and Argentina.

The following week she proclaims,

“This outfit is a mess,”

and the New York Stock Exchange plummets,
The Nikkei Average teeters on the brink
while riots erupt in the streets
around the globe.

Defiantly, she stands in the backyard,
stares at the sky and screams,

“The stars are so bright tonight!”

and the oceans flood the coast lines,
tornadoes destroy the cities,
and earthquakes swallow up
whole countries.

And in the month of March,
she petulantly posits,

“I hate my mountain cedar allergies!”

And the earth splits in two
and explodes.

At least until next week.

Rod C. Stryker

This is a somewhat tongue-in-cheek piece. Hope you like it.