An Empty Ballad

The people of Israel ate wormwood of disappointment 
and drank spoiled vinegar for 
an ancient hour and twenty abysses, 
but out of the depths of cruddled chaos
rose their king;
he drove out the pagans
with no more than a shrug,
he stood alone as their glorious warrior,
he ate gravel and defecated marble,
he prophesied about one god and
spoke of olive-green pastures and
golden fields of plenty,
he hurled thunder with one fingertip 
and cleaved iron with one fist, 
he left salt and scalded ruin, 
he was the lasting vendor of hope,
he alone rectified one kingdom,
but, out of meager sin and greed
arose the mighty devil, 
who also spoke with eloquence
and elucidation and played the harp
so well he led and marched the people
out of Israel into the bewilderment 
of despotic centuries, 
all the way to hell.

- John Hardesty 

Ubermensch

The grandeur of overcoming self-doubt,
where slave morality of timid obedient sheep
jump from one fence to another then blindly
over the cliff of nothingness; 
impervious to the profound question mark 
where the lonely fool keeps his fruitful imagination 
drifting from the control hands of rationality 
from the absurdity of no return, for man's obsession 
to occupy an eternal residence keeps the bliss of 
ignorance from living his mendacious life to its
fullest for no regard or reward for redeeming
salvation, he's constantly tortured with Christian
guilt and indoctrinated with poisoned unholy water;
Why can't mankind live together without
prejudice, malice, or hatred for one another?
Mankind loves the conquest of killing another being
in the name of religion because of that impetuous
drive that gives him a symbol, an empty status of power
to become immortal while living. 

- John Hardesty 

Winged Glory(Haiku)

From rank to flanked-tail
and sharp golden pedigree
flies proud Pegasus. 

- John Hardesty 

Drift

The reflection of lost thoughts-
retrieved moments
progressively foments,
for what I sought,
was a glimpse I caught 
through a passing window, I bought
and the faded memory I fought
now lost in a pint of malt. 

- John Hardesty 

The Necrologist Read(From Trice Told Tales)

The newspaper read he died alone in a bed,
not a person or soul came to his dying console,
away they carried him to his grave now, only God can save,
his family came to bid him farewell and off to Hell,
for he was not a loving man nor did he make any demands,
for loving affections were deemed deflections,
he gave nothing to his loving wife or anyone that mattered in his life,
corruption and contempt nor his lies would ever be exempt
from his mottled past, only a blacken miscast,
aloof and disheveled, he loved money more than himself,
yes, the newspaper read, this old bastard's finally dead. 

- John Hardesty 

Seasons

Spring's far too short
Summer's quickly abort
Autumn's scattered assort 
Winter's deathly escort.

- John Hardesty 

Time Unraveled

An hour besieges the moment
for a sparing second becomes a day
lost within the decadence of yesteryear's way
compiles an enigmatic quotient.

One relative theory after another
compensates the dullard
with some prayer, he'll recover
alas, all supine hope shuddered.

Time began with universe's divine hand
bequeath the mortal clock
that holds every man with a tick-tock
held together by the frailest of strands.

- John Hardesty