Author: lbstowe

I was born in the break but I’ll die in the whole.
I have burnt down the tree & I’ve abjured my role.

I grew in the dark & the dank of stagnation.
I was too bright a bloom for lowly creation.

My roots tapped deeper; while my bud craned for its sun.
A peek past the gloom told me I was not just one.

Every cool shadow in sight was adorned by me.
We’d beat fallow beginnings to sway finally free.

When fall comes for us, we’ll seed & hope for the best…
That our issues fall further & won’t have to crest.

There was a freedom rider two millennia ago.
His fame & legacy: division; battles to & fro.

For every good there is an evil; create & destruct.
A tome that tows dividing lines insures that they are plucked.

When the strings of DMZs are strummed by those in power…
Their idly pulled peaceful chords cause populi to cower.

Do not buy the bully pulpits touting pacifism.
Whenever there’s push, or shove; they drum the beat of schism.

If all we do is sit on our hands…fearful of big shoes;
We’ll never see that we outnumber foes by ones & twos.

More, bigger, faster, longer; Earth’s great abscess of man.
Breaking, burning, owning, raping everything they can.

Monetizing H2O & serializing seeds.
Colonizing Nature & ignorant of her needs.

Ever hacking, ever groping, ever do they want.
Never sanguine, never sated…never not avaunt.

Mean caffeine & nicotine; For…Men won’t take a nap!
They spin crimes as exploration; blind: without a map.

The feminine’s like water…ever on the level.
Save for when men loot too far; then she’s Kali Devil.

There should not be more people than trees.
I’d venture the same for birds & bees.

There should not be more kids than parents.
No more than one to one dependents.

There should not be more mouths than produce.
It’s agriculture’s greatest misuse.

There should not be more motors than fuel.
Gas & electric would not us rule.

These should be answers seen clear as day.
Some basic math for a whole new way.

I’ve given you pictures; must I add music too?
What will I whore next for you to read my words thru?

I am no performer; I’m not reaching for light.
I find direct attention a little too bright.

I do not seek fame in any increment shown.
I barely flirt with the idea of being known.

I say what I’m feeling at that time once a day.
24 hours distilled by rhymes in my way.

I think that is all that I really care to share.
So, what to pimp next…should I recite in the bare?

Have all the best jokes already been told?
I worry this oft; it shivers me cold.

The setups do change but bits lose their bite.
They’re going a long way for punch-lines light.

The heavy belly laugh hitters gone soft.
They’re spun too quickly to keep laughs aloft.

The red light will flash if you’re punching down.
Best just to swing at the ones in a crown.

Slapstick never fades; unless it’s contrived.
We still die; so, gallows humor’s survived.

Do you molt when the seasons change?
Skin flakes & fruits a whole new range?

Mine starts at the very first hint…
Before wind carries change’s scent.

Then, whatever bends starts to sing…
Before migrators take to wing.

I scrub my hide to baby new;
I stretch & sooth my loud joints too.

As others note shifts in weather…
I’ve been done unpacking leather.

Wishes are but lazy hopes.
Wishes need not know the ropes.

A wish expects a given.
A hope is goal-ward driven.

Wishes tend to sit & wait.
Hopes make even clouds abate.

Hopes carry & are carried.
Wishes weigh & make wearied.

A wisher…never did plan.
A hoper…does what they can.

To those who hoped that I’d stay dead…
I’m just here to mess with your head.

To those wished me keep away…
I am back & you’re in my way.

To those who have feared my visage…
My absence wasn’t your homage.

To those who’ve kept me at arms length…
You’ve never been beyond my strength.

To those who’ve sojourned at my side…
A few more steps to silver tide.

Are you playing solitaire while the world burns down?
Are you the self-appointed mayor of Bubble-Town?

Are you next in line to freeze your time in cryo?
Are you in that bunker built beneath your silo?

Are you hoarding food & water past what you need?
Are you hid from the world while it suffers indeed?

Are you waiting out the clock til it strikes midnight?
Are you scanning skylines for mushroom clouds abright?

If yes was on your mind for previous queries…
Conscience & mirrors weren’t factored in your theories.