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.


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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.

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