June 28 by The Running Son

“idiot, and son” click4sourde



I could annihilate you.
Pull 100 year old rhetoric,
soot black, from the flue,
then step back while it fights on
my behalf: you are only half
the man
I remember. That steel trap
mind, fantastic times
candy-miming (no
direct attack–only sugar flanking)
and thank god you have
less than half the wit
I’d guessed you’d have–
these 15 years passed
and not a bath
for you. You re-use
old trash–a bacterial hotbed–
without the passion, heart-sense
or soul to be considered more than a zero-state:
.0000000001 milligrams of compassion, maybe.




by Jim Aldrich

☀ ☁

All Poetry by RunningSon, aka Jim Aldrich

.namaste.   -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-   .namaste.


15 thoughts on “callɵus

  1. Leo says:

    Boneheads, they are pathetic, turning a way of life 180º … Is like, let’s say, reggae nazi.

  2. 1WriteWay says:

    What a powerful poem. I think WilderSoul’s take on it: that its the child as an adult now having to take care of daddy dearest. Did you write the poem in response to the photo? It tells a story.

  3. WilderSoul says:

    The kid looks distressed, and the guy is not holding his hand, he is gripping his arm. (There is a difference.) In my imagination, the poem is from the future, when the boy grows up, and the old man needs care.

  4. kvennarad says:

    ‘Skinheads’ aren’t what they were when I was a girl in 1970. Back then they were simply working-class teenagers, sharp-dressers, reggae-lovers from London. Okay, they had typical blue-collar views about immigrants and such like, but no way were they Nazis. WTF happened since then?

    Enjoyed the poem, btw.


♫ Talk to Jim...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

  • 230,786 souls hit the RFB

Click to Follow the RFB!

Join 1,026 other followers

Recent Posts…

Some RFB Followers…

Flag Counter
DoubleU = W



Killing time just got a lot funnier !

UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s)

by po'E.T. and the colors of pi

The shadows of a dream

Words walking the tightrope from functionality to versification.

Petals Unfolding ... Finding ME

The Story of LIFE ... My Way

A 7 letter word.

I am my Name.


A topnotch site


thoughts from my mind to yours

A Mirror Obscura,

Poetry, musings and sightings from where the country changes


Poetic Landscapes Of The Spirit


Ein schöner Tag - wenn er zu Ende geht, ist nichts mehr, wie es war...


Im here to expose true talent

phillymanjim's Blog

Poetry, Musings, Photographs

Never Quite Broken

What you did not build up, you cannot tear down.

Blog It Or Lose It

Paloma's Pen

Eli Glasman

Site of author Eli Glasman

The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

Here and now, with all of it.

Tania Marie's Blog

Creating Life as a Work of Art

Nomadic & transient tales from a boutique photographer, writer and multimedia creative.


Simple Living


A place for all that inspires me, especially to write.

leather green gargoyle

what I hear, what I read, what I write

Gray Poet

Just a place to express my poems.

HA's Place

musings of a self-proclaimed weirdo


The greatest site in all the land!

Mr.Sahrul Santri


Notes on a Spanish Valley

Award-winning blog - Living in rural Andalucia

Wendy L. Macdonald

My faith is not shallow because I've been rescued from the deep.


Women's Issues, Peace, Creativity & Spirituality


My muse's quiet amusement

The Bully Pulpit

(n): An office or position that provides its occupant with an outstanding opportunity to speak out on any issue.

Poemotherapi Shoppe

"Oh How Art Thou Love Of Poetry"



I didn't have my glasses on....

A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.

∙ tenderheartmusings ∙

we were born naked onto the page of existence; with nothing but the pen of our soul to write ourselves into eternal ecstasy ~ DreamingBear Baraka Kanaan

Traces of the Soul

Whispering insights of this, that, then and there

"we'll never be royals."

Small artists with big potential and lots of cliché.

a3maal اعمال


Writngs of a saved woman




A Long Distance Relationship Blog. Join the FB Page:

%d bloggers like this: