Here is a poem about the unseen and unheard masses of people, ignored by oversized people…
The Littlest People
There are masses of little people
Whose scene is obstructed
By those who possess
Such a little peephole
Through and threw
The looking glass
The bust people
Who soully see themselves
Bronzed
Marbled
Oversized
When in deed
The owner class
Embodies narrow mined
As a madder of fact
They rank
The littlest of awe
Let us celebrate that sexuality in the animal kingdom is not binary, with gender fluidity wildly present…
Sea Horse Sense – Owed to Gender Fluidity in Nature
Male seahorses are the ones that get pregnant and give birth. They carry fertilized eggs in a special brood pouch until the young are ready to be released into the water.
Male sea horses
Are given a present
And the future
To bask it
As female sea horses
Bestow their eggs
To the masculine pouch
Beyond pursing lips
And fertile eyes
Conceiving anew
Generations
To follow
In gendering love
And don’t even ax me
In hi regards
To gay penguin dads
Fabulously suited
To adopt a nestling
In chic fashion
Here is a poem about the growing progressive wins in elections around the US…
Progressive Wins
The vary workers
Who billed the table
As their seats
Filled buy crappy politicians
Are a bout
To be taken aback
Knot by unfunded wars
And unfunded human services
But by outstretched arms
And sturdy arts
Willing too due the work
Of loving won another
As sow over
Over and over
Over lords
Growing anew tomorrows
Just us
Today
This poem is a reflection on the shorter-term compromises we make in life, often made with a sense of desperation or resignation, that undercut our deeper values in the longer-term. The upside is that holding fast to our deepest values gives an enduring experience of contentment and meaning, and even sprinkled with many presents of awe…
Apportion of Living
For a wile
The pros and the cons
Had me
Convinced
Of what is
Right
Now
And still
I just
Find myself
More and more
Halving lived
In what
Remains
In the wrest
Bye alrights
I am
Left
With awe
In Toledo, in America, and worldwide, video surveillance threatens our democracy, civil liberties and right to privacy. This poem reflects on this “state” of affairs…
Who Gets Too Pic?
America gets
A facial
Recognition
Of superficial liberties
Whenever the state wants too
No you
Regard less of privacy
A virtual mug shot
In the efface
Of constitutional weighs
Of a government maid of our image
This poem is a reflection on the trifecta of faith, hope, and love…
Faith, My Friends
“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” –Hebrews 11:1
Life is full
Of awe things
Hope fully people of substance
That even sow
A mist lifting
Whatever
Might be
That wannabe scene in the whirled
The evidence of things knot
Right before our eyes
Faith hauls as
No one ails
On hour watch
And never the less
Fate bows soully to love
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
— 1 Corinthians 13:13
Religion in as few words as possible is awe the better…
Awe There Is
Religion is awe
There is
Accept when it’s knot
A poem reflecting on swamp monster enlightenment…
Reflecting Pool
Won thing he was
The master of self-love
The Narcissus gaze
Into reflecting
Pool
Falling in
Love
His ultimate realization
Green with envy
At the best
Swamp ever
And monster epiphany
Green is the new orange
Not figuring, it out, is the way to transcendence…
Out Figuring
He had
Along tried
Too figure
Figuring
It out
Such surpassing subjects
And subjectivity
Soully to become
A transcendent figure
One of my favorite “watch anytime” movies is Parenthood. One of the many quotable quotes is: My whole life is “have to” [movie clip here]. In my spiritual dyslexia, I reverse this quote into: My whole life is vacation. For those not retired, you can substitute: My whole life is vocation — where “vocation” is a passionately good thing. This poem is a reflection on the suckiness of living a whole life of “have to.”
A Hole Life of “have to”
Q: Do you really have to go?
A: My whole life is “have to.”
–from the movie, Parenthood
Weave got to
Stop meting like this
No’ing know other way
Wear necessity
Seams like frayed
Of sew sew much
Wanting, wanting, wanting
One thing
If only
Amor then halve two
If lonely
Life whir
Rather craven
A flee for awe
Just
Whatever
May be
Soully walking a way
That fine lyin’
Wear awe of life is taken
Wear less is amor
In case you didn’t notice, there is a lot going on. Of course, allot of a tension is paid to all of the fighting. Less attention is directed behind the seeings. I am a big fan of the Gandhi saying: “First they ignore you; then they laugh at you; then they fight you; then you win.” There is a lot happening in what people often ignore, plus in the stuff that people ridicule. This poem is a reflection on the quiet a lot of stuff happening where very few are even looking…
Fallow Fields?
They dis regarded them
As fallow fields
Unknowing
That see’ds germinate
Sum times
Spore radically
After a thousand years
Taken to places
Where few can fallow
This poem is a reflection on the spoiler role that Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu may play in the tenuous U.S.-Iran memorandum of understanding to end the war in the middle east. This poem focuses on what mat be the only reason this doesn’t happen: Donald Trump’s lifelong penchant to throw long-time allies under the bus, even number two’s. In this disregard, may Trump stick to his lack of character…
May the Bus Man Win – Owed to Trump and His Netanyahu
When number one
Metes number two
Thirst a pissing match
Then
The shit
Hits the fan, boy
The bus man
Takes
A second
And throne under
Throws down
As ever be for
Hymn self
In won flush
And his deep-seated faux
Pain the accost
As all is fare
In lovin’ war
Elon Musk, the first trillionaire — in the dollared universe — now owns more than 46% of humans on earth. Hear a word from this barred…
Star Base – Owed to a Base Star [Elon Musk]
A king dumb to his own
He flailed to under stand
The deference between
Totality and unity
A hedge-mon
High on his own
Supply
That Elon Musk
And down win
Extincts
In the stench
Of wealth
The highest rank
Of any hominid
The foolishness of this age cannot recognize the intergenerational nature of our struggles for social justice. May we hold true with patience and steadfastness to causes that are larger than our own lifespans…
Inter Generational
We dwell
In an age
Of expediency
Rapt in sentries owed
Wisdom
Dead
Ever sow
Slight
And out right
A fence
Keeping
At arms
Length
Of a man’s daze
Unable to abide
Beyond won’s own life
Hour generation
Of that narrow marrow
Of what kin do
And due we get
Means
And ends
That madders
And love lies
Wearing on us
Troubled soles
Sow trying
To walk the walk
A loan
Forging ahead
Until carried out
A torch
Passing on
Nothing says American dream like cage fight. A poem for the occasion…
Cage Fight™
Nothing like
A cage fight
Too celebrate
An owed man’s birthday
And independence daze
Awe the wile
The hole nation
Cries “Out”
What’s the deal?!
Bigger cages?!
Longer chains?!
Only able to take
Sow much free dumb
Being able to see through the commonplace misapprehension of what comprises being a winner or being a loser can make awe the difference…
Nested Ever More
There are victories, nested within, victories within victories, ever more, victorious.
No won
Is the boss of me
I am
Nested ever more
A mist that which might
Not be
Helled
Buy sum people
That fake
Lord
Over other people
That ruler
Measured by no won
And when in
The shit
Possessing soul
Know how
To blossom
And when out of won’s tree
More than fly
In case you are having one of those days…
Just Encase
In case
You didn’t know
It was open
And shut
The fuck up
Simplify.
The Goods
Is it even passible
To get
Enough
Goods, goods, goods
When a singular good
Would be amor
Then enough
This poem is a reflection on the laziest form of humanity, demonizing enemies, to oppress and kill large swathes of peoples around planet earth…
True Lies
Q: Have you ever killed anyone?
A: Yeah, but they were all bad.
–from the movie, True Lies
In the beginning
There was chaos
And ever sense
In order
To make right right, right?
That witch is left
Seeing won
An other
With demon eyes
They were all bad
They were all all bad
Apparently, the Disruptor-in-chief IS the bomb…
Get, The Memo
Did you get
Get
Get
The memo
“Blowing things up”
Is no longer a metaphor
