Author: lbstowe

Senility lurching thru hallowed halls.
Careens at danger in lucky close calls.

We now bet on everything, even this…
On whether we fall into an abyss.

Fights for clout; instead of constituents.
Right & wrong now fully ambiguous.

Like sharks, each wicked tooth pulled is replaced.
As shown by department heads switched in haste.

Seems like a race to the bottom this fall.
When, I hope, evil slinks off with blue balls.

Nationalism, Gestapo, KGB…
Scary current recurrent philosophies.

Patriots, Job Creators & Aliens…
Dyed by conspiracy & immortal spin.

Right wing nuts, Billionaires, “The Truth is Out There.”
Broad daylight’s revealing what we should forswear.

Orthodoxy, Dogma, Karma, Religions.
We’re great at trapping ourselves in divisions.

The list of worries grows longer with each day.
Soon enough, we people, will have final say.

Another sour cow from the same sour herd…
Whose milk is overripe & thick with curd.

Birthed by druids under a bad moon’s rise.
Then raised on the rot in the brood sow’s eyes.

Emerging from suckling bile-giving teats.
Poisoned in the head that females repeat.

Generation trumps iteration’s guise.
Heifers don’t know they’ve wings; so, not one flies.

Thus, even after seeing pigs take flight…
These cows cannot conceive of flying’s height.

Sour at the whole farm ‘cause they missed out.
Resigning to a life of pout & doubt.

I’m donating some restful nights.
Yes, I’m familiar with your plight.

Can’t sleep easy & can’t sleep odd?
Forgot the way to get to Nod?

I do not judge your sleep routine.
Mine’s got a screen & isn’t clean.

What works for me may not for you.
Experimenting’s how we do.

Start subtracting; one at a time…
These blockages to sleep sublime.

Wear your mind & your body out.
Then, they’ll collapse in sleep, no doubt.

Quality dozing culled last eve…
Now, unto you with blank reprieve.

This gift I give you is not slight.
I’m donating some restful nights.

My life straddles a century’s turn.
I have seen movements & trends crash & burn.

I’ve known I’d cross this threshold of time.
I’ve known this since the age of nine.

It dawned as Haley’s Comet passed by.
I’d see it again; didn’t know why.

I did the math right there in the drive.
I knew I’d see it at eighty-five.

Against all odds, I am curious…
If that kid’s vision was spurious. 

Takes lifetimes to sort our inner child. 
Bound by cosmic events all the while.

Oft, all we have is to fail at mercy.
Guilelessly humbled by controversy.

Kindness shown when it shouldn’t has power.
As, plants proffer the delicate flower.

Decency shouldn’t ever be foreign.
Not scouring life for dramas to star in.

The instinct in crises should be to help.
It’s far too easy to ignore pain’s yelp.

Gratitude should come easier than want.
Yet, want is mixed up with needing to flaunt.

In the end, all one can do is their best.
Try any of these to invoke good rest.

The revolution will not be moisturized.
Not a thing about it will be tenderized.

Third time lucky, third protest, & three’s magick.
We stand for counting against outcomes tragic.

Millions of Americans taking action.
Against fascist, racist wars of distraction.

We stand for those of us used as red herrings.
The attacks on our vulnerable are glaring.

We stand up this third time; so, Evil, take note.
This Fall, all our number will get out the vote.

I am my own abusive boyfriend.
None can punish me better for sin.

Remaining single, not backing down.
Why would I; too many shits around?

I bristle thinking I’m singular.
I won’t believe no one’s similar.

I’m not special; but I may be blind.
A decade seeing none of my kind.

My first stop would be to blame myself.
But; I’m not the one who cleared this shelf.

If there were boys or toys ever there…
They are all retired; the worse for wear.

I’ll keep writing out sirens’ lyrics…
Coaxing those who get the satiric. 

I won’t chase you & I don’t allow thirst.
Any moves made must be made by you first.

I put myself out there a million ways.
My smiles & eye contact are free most days.

I say good mornings, hellos, how are yous.
I say please, I say thanks, I let them choose.

But lo & behold, most people are cold.
They don’t even notice the words I’ve doled.

My pluck, moxie or stubborn whatever…Bubbles up sun regardless of weather.

I don’t ask, “what if I’d behaved better?”
I’m wild & out there & yours to fetter.

Singing my heart out to Mysterious Power.
Bearing my soul in baths amplified by showers.

All relationships being equal minus sex…
Love is always love; sex, is where it redirects.

Sorted by duty, tension, absence & fondness…
By entendres & situational oddness.

One of four baths stacked; a little singles quartet.
We’re leaning on a nearly free vocal outlet.

It’s better than fighting & screaming in riots.
Some real tears committed to a tub of quiet.

Songs give perspective. Candle lit dark makes you whole.
We need release valves, lest doom & gloom take control.