Category: Poetry

No more these apologetic loves.
No more the timidity of doves.

No more the waif with a hopeful sigh.
No more the orphan just getting by.

No more afraid of battles gory.
No more missing the point of story.

No more awake with worry & fret.
No more the guileless innocent get.

“From now on” feels set for failure’s launch.
Though, “No matter” might a crisis staunch. 

There’s nothing wrong with being buoyant.
Nor, is being a bit clairvoyant.

Nothing wrong with coasting right on thru.
Gone with the flow, as some always do.

One weather eye is just the ticket.
Always be half ready to picket.

The rest of you can unclench & cope.
Coiled for unrest; while careening for hope.

These will be a very tense four years.
Fan flames of progress; not right wing fears.

Everybody knew but me.
Knew, yet denied, what I’d be.

The tools they used; simple books.
Young & deep; they set their hooks.

I could not right unknown wrong.
Prayed for death; but survived long.

Coming out wasn’t heeded.
Fought a battle they’d ceded.

I’ve made mountains from molehills.
Arms invite & shoulders kill.

Four more years of foot shooting…we’ll make it gay again.
Do not worry my dearies …just breathe & count to ten.

Blame’s a game that we know well…we’ve  been hunted before.
We’re repression’s red herrings…not culprits of the fore.

The Red & Lavender Scares…you’ve heard these in passing.
Margins are always aware…of dangers amassing.

We watch the writhing center…sparks leaping for powder.
In shock, we watch implosions…quiet when they’re louder.

Change is born in sideline notes…from edges growth pours in.
Don’t fret & cluck my chickens…we’ll make it gay again.

Faces are like ears…oval coasts with complex inlands.
Time’s just flattened spheres…we’re the needles riding its bands.

We sing out our parts…our harmonies & melodies.
We scrape out our arts…our indelible rarities.

Living & Dying…spun on two tables in tandem.
The records don’t change…but the styluses are random.

The finer the point…the more brightly it sounds the croon.
If dull at groove’s joint…crackle shaves nuance from the tune.

We’ve a central chord…from start, thru chorus & resolve.
All else complicates…these simple shapes that we evolve.

So much sorted upwards to those superior.
Made by the poor of Earth…We, the inferior.

They enjoy the comforts of the actions we take.
No tops without bottoms; we all own that mistake.

Seemingly born to emulate & enable.
Yet, we’ve never had seats…nor have seen the table.

They bathe in black gold & they devour our youth.
Soaked in their purpose by our first fallen milk tooth.

Yes, free will & all that…at the end of the day.
We can reject their paltry noblesse obligée.

“Go to all the big balls but stay for the nuts.”
My socially awkward definement of guts.

There’s a few things that’ll get me out the door.
Chief among them the hope of finding one more.

One who wants to be there even less than me.
Someone who’ll take my hand &, together, flee.

Someone who will make being out alone safe.
A buffer for all the social norms that chafe.

Until I find them, I must force myself out.
Lean on my hope & try forgetting my doubt.

These are their halcyon days; I’ve seen wither & thorn.
Dizzy reality of dreams; ready to be born.

Their world is an open door; I’ve climbed out of windows.
Short times free of sin; but I can see innuendos.

Walls are free of writing…yet, mine are black with scribble.
Words still free of allusion…I know how to quibble.

They’re just now learning to lie; while I’m focused on why.
They’re just now learning to try; I’m committed to fly.

They’ll learn how to sort thru life; I can only model.
Shown is stronger than told…either way, off they’ll toddle.

For: E&B

To judge is so much easier than to redeem.
At least, that is how the current opinions seem.

Everyday folks now expected to live on lies.
No more facts, just tax, to the wealthy subsidize.

Generational trauma; generational wealth.
Buy forgetting & remembering…buy health.

Augment reality with a pair of glasses.
Busy eyes never know you’re robbing their asses.

So, I suggest protest…while it is still allowed.
Our Words & Deeds matter; do not hide in the crowd.

I’m gonna come out for change & evolving.
Yet, not at the cost of cities dissolving.

I won’t assume that strangers are enemies.
Rather, presume new folks are amenities.

I won’t exit my home expecting a fight.
I get out twice a week, why can’t we be light?

We’ve not yet given this the thought it deserves.
By the time we’re set; we’ll be low on reserves.

We know slow & steady always wins the race.
So, lower the volume & wind down the pace.