Category: Poetry

There are more good poor than are good rich: fact.
It must keep aristocrats up nights; wracked.

We seem poised for one last revolution.
Who will survive to see its conclusion?

That it is coming, feels a foregone thing.
Revolution, now, is bearing truth’s ring.

Yet, surely, revelation is better?
From this division, might we unfetter?

Can’t we realize we made gods & money?
Dying for falsehoods?…So sick it’s funny.

Life’s stranger than fiction & twice as scary.
So, Halloween revelers, please be wary.

All Hallow’s Eve & next, The Day of the Dead…
Celebrate the spooks & death we mainly dread.

I’ve heard it said, “Halloween’s drag for cowards.”
Yet, for some, it must make them feel empowered.

Bolstered by one night to be weird every day.
Emboldened to take up space in brand new ways.

These days, each day, we’re presented new terror.
Saving up frights for one day seems an error.

We’ve got plenty chills & thrills twenty-five/eight.
Halloween’s ghosts & ghouls, now, seem rather quaint.

I give freely; until I don’t.
I’m pushed past can & into won’t.

I’m softest touch; until I’m not.
To think me weak is sullied thought.

Also, pushover; ‘til I stand.
Pushed too far & I scorch the land.

I’ve an open heart; ‘til it’s closed.
I can’t unsee what’s been posed.

It’s new to me this happenstance…
Granting a liar’s millionth chance.

I feel like sometimes my poems are curses.
Wow…I’ve never said that in my verses.

I’ve described them as prayers & as spells.
Though, it’s new to think of them as dark knells.

I never allow myself to wish harm or death.
Though, lately I’ve hoped ends under my breath.

Shocked, I noticed it immediately.
With lives, I’ve never been willy-nilly.

I’m maybe not fair & it comes with age.
This wide remove from perspectives of rage.

I can’t believe I’d let my heart sour.
So, cometh the witch; cometh the hour.

I’ve always known not to give in to hate.
Never let it burn or leave it too late.

I admit it here to restore balance.
Truth is my way to rein errant talents.

 When pushed beyond conceptual comfort.
I am reminded intention comes first.

Not so simple as, “I didn’t mean it.”
More accurately put, “I didn’t do it.”

The world of man can push us to new lows.
Yet, a good witch knows man comes & man goes.

Whether good or bad; thoughts require action.
Without that, there is no real infraction. 

Confession, they say, is good for the soul.
Rough waters will find balance…on the whole.

In this life you better have one of these…
Personal strength or a lot of monies.

Some have both things…They float or they smother.
You ain’t got one? Better have the other.

Poverty requires strength to survive.
Money without strength may keep you alive.

Those without either lean on kindnesses.
Still, don’t rely on noble highnesses.

Common denominators hoard their own.
Sadly, these rules, are commonly unknown.

We shouldn’t prescribe their fates; win or lose.
It’s our job to support the paths they choose.

Kids routinely underestimated.
Assuming age dictates wit is dated.

I was self-aware at an early age.
Unwelcome & resented, I was sage.

Learn the lessons from my wordy accounts.
When they stray, observe…don’t react & pounce.

Pan out. Look at it from their apertures.
For, they may lead you to greener pastures.

 Yet again, these thieves & liars.
Not many offenders higher.

Stole from the highest to lowest.
Lately, all lies have been noticed.

Woe to those who’d see us as fools.
For, we are blessed with many tools.

Tools to adjust & votes for change.
Trim or widen their able range.

Hope hard lessons are taken on.
If not, see final curtains drawn.

Like repels like & opposites attract.
I seek again, before my final act.

My mind & my heart are open to new.
I’ve changed, grown & made space to welcome you.

Meant two different things by what I conveyed.
Metaphoric & literal space made.

I’ve installed new spur lines around my heart;
Ready for novel approaches to start.

Access given isn’t always taken.
I’ll remain determined & unshaken.

In the time it takes for greetings to pass;
I will know just how full is your own glass.

If I’m with you still, past salutations.
Welcome to round two…congratulations.

Any adults on battle fields…
Should know that kids aren’t human shields.

If known that shit will hit the fan;
Please spare the children…if you can.

Be brave enough to hold your own.
To hide’s not what they should be shown.

I was a child of battlefields.
I was used as a human shield.

So, yeah; I know of what I speak.
Ducking behind your children…weak.

If your humbling’s coming up soon;
Dont bring children to your high-noon.

I tire litigating the worst of you.
I know that all tangos require two.

So, I now resign my wig & my robes.
Too, I’m pulling the cord on psychic probes.

Not now, empathizing with fault & blame…
Not even leeway & your gaslight game.

I made a mistake ignoring my gut.
I’m done withstanding these one thousand cuts.

Cordiality, now, the best chance to live…
In a sort of peace; til I can forgive.