Category: Poetry

Earth’s a mess & so are we…we all know which came first.
This rock spun along just fine & then was clearly cursed.

In our humble origins we served each other well.
Yet, we’re clever, curious; & consciousness befell.

We no longer felt “beside” but felt “above” instead.
When life is viewed from remote heights, empathy falls dead.

So, from an elevation, we started down the road…
Paths way past thresholds of care & into conquering mode.

Lost in our grand delusions, our stewardship squandered;
We’re kings of death & waste, living atop the conquered. 

I’m not perfect & my dick’s not that big.
I move like a girl & eat like a pig.

I have nervous shakes & easily trip.
I laugh when I’m sad & quick with a quip.

I try & I try; but I rarely succeed.
I’m bad with money; due to lack of greed.

True, I have loved & I have been loved too;
Never mutual & not the right who.

I’m very frank about my shortcomings.
Stark true winters turn into pink glass springs.

I’ll make nothing easy. I’ll bridge no gap.
So, you’d better put on your thinking cap.

I’ve seen my circumstance from a new perch.
From break-thru to break-thru, in life, I lurch.

It felt like living inside a crime scene. 
Now, I’ll take all that it owes me in green.

When I’ve blown out my sun & shine for few;
Lives have grown dark & some have ended too.

‘Twas never my want or at all my hope.
One gorged to death & one fell into dope.

See, I built half a bridge that was then burned.
To that charred precipice, I’ll not return.

To coax this sun back to your growing crop…
Build the bridge alone. Drop the “poor me” slop.

Finish solo effort without complaint…
& maybe warm light will again acquaint.

It must be known by now that I don’t quit.
I’m experienced on how to commit.

It takes me a minute to grasp a plight.
Once I’m invested, it’s with all my might.

So, slow to know; then, determination.
Betrayal, alone, can cause cessation.

I would never consider letting go…
‘Til my estimation takes shocking blow.

Not cool, I guess, to advertise limits.
Truth’s a thing I can’t help but exhibit.

Didn’t have to wait for inauguration this year.
Day one I was processing & writing thru new fear.

If we pool our magick for excellence, poised just so;
Then, we have -fuck me- three years, if we’re lucky, to go.

We’re inundated daily with brand new precedent.
All the most evil roads now lead to this President.

This administration would see our liberties die.
Insane things happening with no explanations why.

New offal proffered as a side to morning’s porridge.
All day we process this tripe into dinner’s sausage.

Divorced from good reason appears the current zeitgeist.
History books won’t favor them…however the truth’s sliced.

“Know better; do better.”, my mantra motto.
It helps me process new info on auto.

Not wringing my hands when I learn awful truths.
It lets me immediately enact proofs.

Undeniables need no litigation.
Doing better doesn’t require gestation.

To know better only asks that we listen…
Keep open our hearts & minds to revisions. 

So, no need for sheepishness when proven wrong.
Just do better & you will be; before long.

Sometimes, suicide seems the bravest option.
Leave life lived on a good note via toxin.

To be remembered for relieving carers.
To be a short-lived effort for pallbearers.

The advantage of a head start on haunting.
To no more fret over looming death daunting.

To unclench & pry white knuckles from steering.
To become memories that grow endearing.

Still, nothing’s over ‘til obese women sing.
So, I’ll see what living, from Life, I can wring.

Some seeds won’t germinate; inherent duds.
Not each hope planted sets flowery buds.

But, to sew is itself a hopeful leap.
Pips disappearing in small earthen heap.

For many, gardening’s at an end there.
Out of sight out of mind’s their peak of care.

Though some will sprout on their own potential;
Most need intention as coessential.

Still, worry not about the waste of seed.
For, the circle of life rarely wastes feed.

So, planting a garden in winter’s midst…
Is the act of a fervent optimist.

There’s difference between the tolerant & allies.
One deigns to allow us; while the other stands by.

The tolerant are “fine”; as long as we’re separate.
Allies come in for a visit deliberate.

A tolerant person will cast a noble vote.
Allies will protest for strangers…this is of note.

Worthy; because the risk taken is not for show.
Worthy; since a box ticked isn’t personal growth.

Never mind, doesn’t matter, we will forge ahead.
We’re so grateful for any who’d stand in hate’s stead.

Like using spiderwebs to julienne;
Is trying to figure “if not now, when.”

Then, patience & thought should be on that scene.
So, naught should be colored by tempers mean.

For, what goes around comes around; when cold.
It’s a lesson none should have to be told.

We plot, we plan, we bide for our moments.
We study the tapes of our opponents.

The wins pile up for the ones that commit.
Finish lines are found when lesser ones quit.