Category: Poetry

I find a new groove each new year.
Because, I walk away from here.

A season left to say my piece.
All creative work must then cease.

Free dayed entropy loose & large.
Free to let the battery charge.

Harvesting knowledge back of brain.
Break thru eurekas see stress wain.

Conscious & unconscious growth earned.
Schooled by both falls & fires that burned.

The din of holidays & mirth…
Install substance & enrich worth.

Happy hangover by next year.
I’ll return playful, bright & queer.

Just over two score days left now.
Then, my seasonal thousandth bow.

So many progressive things we’ve botched.
Women with real agency hate watched.

Fuckbois win cash & drama earns fame.
Useless people gain clout for their name.

Ratcheting angst or dropping IQ…
Societal fall is within view.

No self discovery, no fault owned.
Mirrors used only to see how toned.

Women touting the wealth they married.
Reality TV’s real scary.

Heroes to some…& it’s a quandary.
That, fame is bought with dirty laundry.

Crouched like a gargoyle sluicing out verse.
Eviscerating life; birth to hearse.

Pushing & pulling at things unclear.
Putting under sunlight things found queer.

Frankly owning your shit everywhere.
Standing to be counted; ill or fair.

Logs kept of events & opining.
All these receipts kept for fact finding.


A harsh take, a punchline & the truth…
Mark tellings with a winking smile sooth.

It seems some lives are nowt but misery.
Even, for those festooned in luxury.

They spend, decorate & upgrade living.
Yet, the mind’s old haunts still strife are giving.

Buried by agency or none at all…
Neither’s precluded from sad’s siren call.

Hot melted gold slung on any free walls…
Can’t change the vibe of brains’ labyrinth halls.

Seems only one effort can even budge…
The needled point of your happiness judge.

Regular maintenance balance provides.
Work on the self & its rattling insides.

Covering cancers in humour…
Is how to avoid their tumors.

Look for a break in cloudy skies.
Look for thunderous cracking wise.

Build a strong wall of certainty…
& a drawbridge of clemency.

Make the best from all of the worst.
Make steel against your ballast’s burst.

Keep minds & hearts as open things.
Keep music near so spirits sing.

Hope for better; ready for bad.
Be the you that’s classic, not fad.

Believe that you can add your worth…
& life without it’s poor in mirth. 

Just one can’t make ache go away.
All, together, can save the day.

Drop by drop an ocean is filled.
Life’s mostly tasks of strength & will.

Endurance & bolstering: musts.
All lazy coasters die by rust.

Most work can be done on your own.
But, more & quicker with friends shown.

We all at our tasks raise the bar.
Cumulative interest shoots star.

Close to fulfilled, water turns white.
Tumbled froth, violent & light.

This bottleneck of general goals…
Makes us all choose the way life goes.

Together, we choose: rise or fall.
Together, we lose; or win all.  

Religion & repression sculpt the witch.
Lonesome trauma & cruelty forge a bitch.

All myths encourage the esoteric…
Whether in woods or mind of a cleric.

All abuse nurtures an acerbic wit…
Whether for mean means or just doing bits.

People can be kind & humble & true.
But, they aren’t recalled when funny rolls thru.

People can be giving, open & rich.
But, none can erase the mark of a bitch.

Still, what’s seen in your image reflected…
Is purely you & you must protect it.

Socialist Dems need to come out.
That’s what our safety net’s about.

Don’t worry…capitalist pigs.
You’ll still sell all the oil in rigs.

Money wants purpose; why not us?
Fair share taxes shouldn’t cause fuss.

Private wealth just topped a trillion.
We the poor are not their pillion.

Each new boon’s first milked for profit.
We, people, just get scraps off it.

Have enough to buy elections?
Your vaults need urgent c-sections.

Healthcare, climate & fairer share:
Progressive change the rich must bear. 

Not proud of the anal planner I am.
Plans must change…boredom forces me to scram.

Tight strung tugging war with ADHD.
So, I scramble my routine; routinely.

Meditate on elusive peace & sleep.
With middling success, I can fall down deep.

Repeat meditation ‘til the “bow breaks”.
Why do meditaions need extra takes?

…One has me writing & one’s making schemes. Third delivers me to Nod…“land of dreams”.

I am not a weapon. Defend yourself.
Cease whipping me up & aiming me stealth.

Just not interested in watching you fold.
Just not able to be all of your bold.

Will not battle alone without supports.
Won’t mount campaigns on unpopular forts.

Can’t sacrifice myself to lighten loads.
Cannot play enigma to your switching codes.

If you’ve got bones to pick, pick on your own.
I’m no more the soil where your anger’s sown.