poetry
lines written sitting out on my stoop
i am carried away by her voice out in my wabi-sabi garden away from the potholes of ignorance and sociopaths smiles holding loft a baby child, a pawn for his campaign so i need the prayer of a guy named Dante whilst the cicada’s hum i watch the wind move the fountain grass listening to […]
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at walmartand a festival another high schoolpraying in churchin the first gradeat a moviewhile at workat the collegein Americafrom sea to shining seain Americamore slaughterdripping bloodon the red, white and bluebut does it matter tothat presidentwho commands their fatehe who worships goldhe was bought and soldon corporate greedfor foreign soiland dreams of coaljust thoughts and […]
Moreself care in times of despair
when in despairget out in the fresh airunderneath the treessmell the breezeget awaythen returnto fightor, just try to be a lightas the moon illuminate the darker waysfor those who share the path with you
Morewatching the light again
watching the light again as it plays with the ruby fountain grass illuminating a spider in its web underneath the black walnut tree in between walking the dog in the morning light dishes don’t get done cause i am drawn back to watching the light again in my temenos in meditation a blessing but I […]
More9 years since his very last birthday
and the day goes by with a sigh this one with sunshine sparkling through the leaves as i watch a tiger swallowtail butterfly as it flits by to and fro and i know he whispers hi, goodbye to me #FOWC
Moreone June day in my garden
the sun dances thru and they go away he, she, them all, everyone the morning light drifts into the high afternoon across the sky and the dove coos her mourning as evening light descends till the western glow of it setting and the Cardinals sing a tune dog barks, voices from the street, laughter drifts […]
Morelost freedoms to an eternity
truth that illuminatesus, them, every onetowards a destinyour fatenot defending democracywe speak not politicallycorrectlyfractured resting on those laurels of the pastwith a fear of what will berefusing to seeclarity through the liesand all that they despiselost freedom to an eternity
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so they say
I could hear them singingturned off the radioopened the windowto their happy chatterwhat they had to sayof those first tendrils of springwakes my dusty tailwith bird chatter of amorous tonesof buildingof creationbeginningspossibilities, or so they say
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