Welcome to the free verse.
The Good, The Bad, and the Ugh-ly
The good news
My poetry can’t be bought
And I can’t be sold out
More sow it’s awe free
And presently
The bad news
It’s worth every penny
Gems paid for
With toil some red
And pain the admission prize
As hearts cracked
Open
Letting the light in
Welcome to the free verse
When it comes to constitutional rights, use them or lose them. Please feel free to exercise your rights and exorcise totalitarianism.
What Does The Security State?
Accordion to security state
Expand surveillance
As the spyin’ of totalitarianism
And into the bargain been
Private eyes
Everything
Contract
Out our freedoms
Shrinking liberty like crazy
As that belle wrings out
Our rights
Wither snowballing be helled
Or socks in one’s drawers
Easier lost than found
Our thirst amendments cornered
Round privacy in the public square
An affront to getting back
And on awe sides
The answer is something a kin
To exorcising each and every right left
Or they just
Go away
I like the saying, “If you aren’t living on the edge, you are taking up too much room.”
Edge Worthy
I found myself
Living on the edge
Anew view
Bounded soully
By spaciousness
The giving
And taking
Up
Space
Optimized
In efface of ecological sanity and even decades-old market forces, the carbon-based life deform known as Donald Trump wants to bring back coal. I guess Trump’s century-old vaudevillian show wants to feature Mother Earth in blackface. Under his watch in Trump 1.0, he wanted something similar and a hundred coal plants closed. Even his second-hand vein attempt and uncanny ability to give people the shaft won’t bring back coal. This poem is an ode to the foolishness and 1984-esque plans to backtrack on renewable energy. Also, the title is a tip of the hat to the satirical, black comedy film, “Don’t Look Up,” which parodied climate-change denial.
Don’t Look Up, Sunny
Listen, sunny
Who wants
Renewable electricity
Lighting the way
What you need unquestionably
Is gas lighting
Even burned
As abate and switch
Back to coal
Does this seam crazy
The back wards of America
Enjoining that nuclear option
As enduring future be lies
The truth left underground
As the hole earth cries out
With the slickness of oil
From right to left
Save that whale blubber
Taken aback
Don’t look up, sunny
We know what is up
The knew down
I predict that there will be an Occupy Wall Street type movement spurred by our suicidal management of our economy plus mindless and heartless austerity on those least able to withstand the brutal disruptions.
Yo Yo, Down With the Stock Market
Yo yo
What’s up with the stock market?
Yo yo
Down with Trump
The fascist there is
With the down aside
Holed steady
His love fare with Main Street
Taxing workers
And cutting deals with capitalists
What too due?
Wee are just
Not holding our breath
To be occupied
Wall the street
It Rains On
The storms of life
Soully whet
My appetite
For free rain
In a whirled
Just
And unjust
I suspect half-truths are more dangerous than complete lies. We can do better. Demand radical honesty.
A Crumb-y Life
He heard the whole truth
And was tolled
You half to believe
People will never swallow that
And with practice
You will learn to live
On crumbs
If I look a little raggedy at times, it’s awe part of a larger plan. Things don’t always look like they seam, a little deeper.
Knot a Frayed
I over herd
Sum won state
You peer a little seed-y
Yet presently
Any wear I look
I fine poetry
And whatever may seam
I am knot a frayed
Having words, even as wee stand in awe, of what may be, unspoken…
Poetry Offensive
I started a poetry offensive
To tear down de-fence
That divide of a tension
Between read and blue states
The rise of pauper papers
And citizens ink
Uplifting the truth
That
Having words
Will not hurt US
As cleave meanings
Shall not be
As under
And if cross some lyin’
Light heartedly banned together
Even as fires incite burning
Wee stand in awe
Of what may be
Unspoken
First they came for…
The End of the Line
I was a little
Late to the party
As board that partisan ship
Itching for box seats to the show
Checking my pass
That tick it
Buy the S.S.
Titanic
As I peered ahead
Those affront of me
Lots cast before me and mine
And huddled masses on deck
I herd a comforting rumor
They weren’t going to waste
A bullet on me
It was all a bout
Walking the walk
Their plank
Republic Canned
They went on
A bout cleaning up
But they maid the mistake
Of knot knowing
The deference
Between complicity and cooperation
Proffering sick a phony
Over solidarity
Trumped up charges
Over forward moving
Backwards throne
As republic canned
They maid their bad
And they’re going
To lie
In it
We live in foolish times, with unbelievable creatures totally full of shit.
Doctor Doo Little’s Pushme-Pullyou
Are we awe living
Doctored doo little’s life
In hour pet beasties
Trapped in 100% proof
And believing is seeing
Stuck with sharp mines
And pierced hearts
Awe most as weird
As a pushme-pullyou
That tug of war
A kind of wore hoarse
Knot knowing
Forward or backward
Weather strange a traction
Or compelling awe
Possessed by our own holed
Over others
And how and when
To under stand
The deference
In the thick it
Orthodox
Heterodox
A paradox
Beyond me
Hit it in efface
Or aloud enchant
With the perfect words
Leaving spellbound
Or sum other authoritative doo
Just
Perhaps
Silent action
Speaking volumes
Embody language
In the mettle
Of comical forces
Mine, mine, mine
Verses mime, mime, mime
It’s a small whirled after awe
Can wee survive our selves
Make it
Happens
As we peer
In finitude
Dude
And still
It’s never
Enough
How doo we
Surrender
Steeped in that inclination
To hill and back
That Sisyphean pinch
Too relieve us
Of awe assholes
And live side by side
In accompany of mythical creatures
Dam well full of shit
And miss red
Anger
Over what is
Peace
And over what is
Hole
The Braking of the Whirled
To whom
Put the spin
On the whirled
And how made
A brake
For it
As rein
On the rich
And poor temp
To dis patch bad luck
Wanting
What they halve
Mirror bits
And peaces
Between war out
Shaky wrests
In the thick of thinness
Far-fetched closeness
A mist
Exclusive clubs
Bad manors
And limousines careening
Coming to
A fool stop
What might be
The solution
Stuck in the same owed ship
Over aheads
Waters
Still
With deep a motion
Yearning to breathe
At the bottom of the see
What seams the impassable
To inspire without heir
More than litter
Beyond fishy schooling
Emerge
Onto landing
Beyond species arguments
Anew creation
Playing in a chord
With won and awe
As no longer band-ish
To the hinder lands
Billionaires will not protect you or your interests. In particular, the malignant narcissist billionaire in the White House will not protect you. Selling protection IS what The Don is experienced at — though it’s only a grift.
Tyrant Spring
“This and no other is the root from which a tyrant spring: when he first appears, he is a protector.” –Plato
That deathly
Will
Protect you
Whether you like it or not
That authoritarian gambol
That grotesque tell
The libs
For your own
Good
Regard less
The quiet part
Out laud
Scarfing his hole piety
With his flagging fealty
And public preyer
For telling his gold in age
As the loot plays
That guardian angle forever more
The utter most keeper
As if
Posed to peer
Into his patron eyes
As owed sum thing
Sow grate
When as a madder of fact
A predator
Destroyer of awe that is woke
As others offer their hearts
He comes for nothing other
Then your blood
In spite of children of God
Youth in eyes
Parently a minor accost
Fore his will
And our will
As well
And mass grave
Unite
As won
I see judgment free zones. It’s kind, of a sixth sense.
Free Judgment Zone Out
I wince herd
Entreat me as a dog
“Free judgment”
And what due I hear
My squirrelly years
And dyslexic soul
“Judgment free”
Knocking things down is always easier than building things up, weather it’s a two-year-old or a second term of a president (if you can tell the difference). Still, even amidst wanton destruction, building things up is ever important. Being obsessed with knocking things down may be a developmental phase for two-year-olds, but it is existential weakness for any president claiming to love his fellow citizens.
Achilles’ Heel
The mob cries
He’s a fighter
His back to the win
The posed heeling
Of a nation
A tack
A tack
A tack
Sow little knowing
The biggest heel ever
Awe a bout
Accumulation
Of the means of power
Not seeing it
That
The littlest things
Madder
As shit mushrooming
In the dark
And never doubt
Stepping on it
Sooner or later
Learning to Lego™
The hard way
As easier
To knock things
Then bill them
Uugghh-ly!!!
The Ugly American
The ugly American
Has broken
Its mirror
Reflection
Of values helled
Over generations
Of good will
Like shuttering glasses
Half fool
Half empty
Making no deference
To who is questioning
The fare-est of them all
As would not trade
For anything
His precious
Agin everything
And whoever
Might take their leave
From impossible asylum
From the maniac-in-chief
Meant and de-meant id
De-institutionalized
Roving in-tents
A clown on the throne
US circus made
The Don John
Trumped
Where does won go
Talking shit
And waste deep in “fertilizer”
Lying wile taking
A stand
The bully
Pulp it
In efface of the whirled
As sneer as possible state
There is no makeup attest
Fore such epic failure
Of mythic proportions
As the Orange Narcissus
Stares into abetting pool
Of limpid infatuations
That is his
Own
Made in
The image of god
A world wear
No one loves
Donald Trump like Donald Trump
Know madder
How revolting
America becoming
When effacing the unspeakable…
Bully Silence
I was bullied
Into silence
And it was hear
That I found myself
Listing to trembling voices
And leveled
By that still, small voice
A priceless stash of courage
More than a mountain of cache
To sum it
A given
Not won ascent by my feat
But sores brought to heal
Sow fly
Beyond words
Who can say? I’ve awe ready placed my abets. Bettor too due.
God’s Will?
How due you know
It’s God’s will
Someone said
God is dead
And I read it somewhere
There is know God
Awe the same
It’s a bout
Hear say
Sometimes you have to dig deep to find them gems…
Razing Up the Unbelievable
Bared at the source
Of awe being
Is the treasure of awe treasures
Deeper than any earthly mantle
Gems among gems among gems
And sow on
And sow on
Beyond what counts
Even surpassing recountable
Sow grounded
Razing up the unbelievable
Unearth
As it is
In heaven
