I hope that my poetry is more than just, pretty words…
The Prettiest Words
They mirrorly wanted
A proving poetry
Soully in ploying
The prettiest words
Without shadow cast
Out and out
The flatter
The better
And if truth fully knead be
Turn off
Poetry
Light
Years
A way from obscurity
Trump’s so-called “Board of Peace” has been chartered by right-wing heads of state. Though, all we need to know is that Israeli Prime Minister “Bibi” Netanyahu, a charter member, skipped out of the signing ceremony because he feared being arrested by Swiss authorities under his war crimes indictment. Make war criminals fear arrest again…
Bored of Peace
The savor of capitalism
Resurrects the East India Company
The ultimate real state deal
And all we need
To no
Is the indicted war criminal
The second biggest Bibi in the whirled
Weasels out
Of the Inc’ing ritual
To a void being
A wrested
More at home
With his own
Corruption
Charging
It all against
Occupying territories
Here is a short poem for those feeling overwhelmed…
Give Me a Brake
Here is the run-down
Pleas
I just
Want too
Make it
STOP
Give me a brake
We should cultivate people over things. We should seek first that which money cannot buy. Or else, things will consume us…
Sow Over Consumption
I peer
Into the whirled
And its debilitating lessens
Razing that infernal question
TB or not TB
As tolled of owed
Consumption
Soully to be
Re-vealed
As a well-fed calf
Of the goaled strain
Cannibalized buy my peers
As sum breed of ghoulish fix ate
On swallowing me
Hole
And as so much meat
I hurl myself
Into oblivion
And just
At that moment
I find myself
Peering
Beyond flesh and bone
Soully then
Surpassingly reaping
Beyond grim and barren plays
Even that witch grave
Sow over shooting
Into that fecund place
Awe abut
That putrescent whirled
And what remains
I laughingly ingest
Awe proscribed
In that inexhaustible realm
Of fertile eyes
Buy enlarge described unearth
As sow over consumption
As America falls apart, America comes together, it’s a greed, the bully-in-chief is the most self-dealing president president ever…
Acquire Boy
He took
What
He wanted
He means
Know harm
Power is as power does
Run
Forced
Run
That game plan
If you have a preyer
Your heights measured soully buy
What you are culpable of
Awe the wile Trump-it-ing
I am just
Acquire boy
Faith Weeps and Reaps
“Faith is what, you do, not no.”
I axed God
A bout
That madder of faith
Tearing
Asunder
Life and limb
God did not say
O ye of little faith
You cannot void
Weather man sized
Or man kind sized
The ladder
To heaven’s reaches
Yet still
Amor of the kind
That is holy grounded
Going down
Awe weighs
Into life
Unearth
On earth
Where answers lie
Yet you will
Knot know
Till you
Due
May you find a well and well-ness in your life…
Digging It Deep
He was digging it
Deep
Into a life that could be
Hole-y
Soully to find a spring
A well
And a wellness
Teeming with awe
That is life
Here is a poem about both our individual and collective responsibilities to act on the climate crisis. At the nexus of personal responsibility and collective responsibility, there converges that buy product in action, inaction, and enaction…
Suicide Enaction
Personally
I am frayed
I can knot
Live sustainably
In what
Peers as suicide
I can’t help
Accept notice
Impersonally
Carve out
A nest
For me and my own
Wile every won ails
Is out of one’s tree
A strange fruit
Of collective
Suicide
This poem is for all of US who will be reaping the increasingly brutal repercussions of America’s race to forced austerity and disintegration of the common good…
Dead Beets: Owed to Austerity
“You can’t get blood from a turnip — meaning soully, just not, trying, hard enough.”
Capitalists
Are down
With whatever
Austerity gets
Blood from whatever
Turn ups
Whatever ground
Into dirt
Thou dust love
Blood and soil
Eugenics for vegetables
Of the pauper kind
Razing dead beets
That plotting fodder
Tricksters
Always able to pawn off something
Akin to blood
Fore the taking
This poem goes out in honor of awe those who are resisting and protesting Trump’s ICE terror campaign…
Mine Furor
Have you herd
The furor
Over
Immigration
And citizen protest
Re-fusing to take any ship
From the SS Trump
With their not-so-secret policing
And their not see police
As cowardly men unmasked
In their cruel arts of ICE
And blow the surface
Of such titanic flailing
Icy burgs
A cross
The horizon
Of state executions
A nation rises in its see
A mine field
Of corruption and cruelty
To get to the bottom
Of what turns out
To be soully a lame duck
With the hard wear of the state
Silenced at the bottom of the see
In a tsunami of citizenry
If humanity is to be won, humanity must be one…
The Fabric of Life
He war
The fabric of existence
Like a fox stole
Afar to clever
Fore his own
Good
Never enough
Of that chic ken fashion
At an exorbitant accost
More apart
Then a hole
In the fabric of life
I live in a sea of poetry. I wonder, if when I die, being freed of this fleshy dreamcatcher will result in my soul being holy re-nude in the source of awe being…
Brake Free
When I die
Ten thousand poems
Brake free
Coming my weigh
Infinitely light
My lust exhaling
From the dream catcher that is
My flesh and bone
Adding to the awe ready surplus
Feel free
Too take leave
As in exhaustible
Meting unfathomable
A bidding within us awe
Bettor
Then the wrest
In peace
You had me at given freely…
The Receipts on Me
Life had the receipts
On me
Given
Taken
Freely
Super naturally
Brought
Ensouled
In voice
And udder silence
Check pleas
Never fully no’ing
Life
A ledge her
Yet holy grasping
Vouch her
“Instead, God has chosen what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” — 1 Corinthians 1:27
A Fool Among Fools
I am
A fool fore awe time
Beyond salivation
I in jest
What others may not quiet
See
The hardy har hardiest
That life
Has to
Offer
Journeying thousands of smiles
A mist dark plays
Soully to alight
Where know one
Ails may go
In the foolness of time
Fascism needs to be resisted anywhere and everywhere it rears its ugly head. This poem goes out to all who resist fascism in big ways and small every day…
They Did What?
[Mother and son standing beneath six townspeople hung from gallows in the public square in Nazi Germany]
Son: What did they do?
Mother: What they could.
–from movie, JoJo Rabbit
They did
What
They could
What many folks no
May not be
Enough
And still
An inscrutable first
Taking their last swing
At life and death
A breeze
Hauntingly moving
One breath
To the next
Beyond under standing
One translation of the Buddhist great truth that “life is suffering” is actually “life is work,” simply meaning that life keeps requiring effort on our part…
A Prize Worth Pain For
Awe great faiths re-choir work.
Their life kept
Culling out
Too them
Choiring sow much work
Of awe kinds
A sorted life
In their efface
Axing them
What amor kin they due
Than lonely
That taking
Care of their own
Then just
One vast nest
Of a human family
Peace made
For won and awe
A prize worth pain for
And less accostly
Than all ails that madders
A labor worthy
Of any berth
This poem is a tribute to artists of all kinds who are paid in what is often predominantly inspiration and awesomeness…
Air Apparent
Time and time agin
Nobodies watch-ing
Artists creating round the clock
As life squared
In visible beyond I’s
Air apparent to inspiration a loan
Living in obscurity
On and offed
Unherd
Unscene
At times just noticed
By some or none
Yet awe ways won
Oftentimes, less is more.
Life Eschewing
How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time – and with lots of hot sauce.
Byte buy byte
I could feel myself being
Swallowed hole
Never getting enough
I couldn’t feel
The ground beneath me
Giving way
Little by little
That is un-till
I bit off less
Then I could chew
Apportion just
My size
At thirst peering a slight of sort
Yet be for long
I apprehended
Sow soon
The unspeakable nature
Of more than a mouthful
Immanently present
Soully miraculous morsels
A mounting to the largesse of awe
Won
At a time
When effacing that which is
Bigger than life
The world is watching, dear leader. There is more than won way to be history…
Leave, Know Witnesses
Dear leader
Your feudal temp
To make your weigh
In this whirled
Is totally in bare assing
Buy your violation
Of the prime directive
Leave
Know witnesses
You can’t butcher
Them awe
For the yeast of these
Will rise up
And before you
No it
You will be history
In awe its unkindness
As onto you
MAGA should no by now that Trump is a character of lack he…
Character Trumps
Oh God
His character
Out of
Whack!
He’s a hit
Those with violent tendons see
His Achille’s
Heeling
Of the whirled
And the soul remains
Awe the mortals screwed
As vie
O late too the party
His thirst and lonely command meant
There is no God
Before him
Nothing abut
A naked king
In secure soully buy
The fog of wore
