she snuck off at seventeen to experience woodstock’s
second day
she protested at the pentagon
she cared for the poor
the downtrodden
the priviledged
the concept of equality took form through her actions
she felt deeply
she thought deeply
she loved and cared deeply
she was a quiet voice of dissent
who loved people and life “to bits”
she inspired her family
her students
her friends and strangers
she left us with the possibility
that there will be others
Boycott this poem
for its candid display
of words that infiltrate
your much needed
safe space
Boycott this poem
for its recognition
of only two genders
I’m talking about
Adam and Eve
you assholes
Halloween is
a once a year
occasion
Boycott this poem
for verification of
the decline in poetry
the only people
reading this shit
are insomniacs
in need of a sleep aid
Boycott this poem
it’s a product of
a white male
who doesn’t subscribe
The only hell in life
I could possibly imagine
would come from squandering
the gift of light
that pulses within my soul.
Poetry is just a language I use
to fallibly express
the ineffable emotions
that long to be birthed into form,
and so I know for sure
that the written word
is but a single spoke
on the much larger wheel of action
that can only be turned
by forever placing
one foot in front of the next.
You don’t always
have to bust through a wall
children circle the bard of barbarism
wait for marching orders
reality TV twenty-four
seven rolls of the dice
one part disharmony, two parts despotic
forebears
the youngsters await some sonrisa
of sanity, anything resembling
rebellion, shorting the hedge fund
holding love hostage, anything,
any sign of humaneness
You’ve got to learn to leave the table
when love’s no longer being served (NS)
this ship is sailored by ghosts
cheeks puffed like gerbils
the captains of industry laugh
When this brutal world hammers me down,
beaten metal on a block,
When this restrictive world pins me in,
measured minutes on a clock,
I search for sun behind grey clouds,
shimmering beyond the rain.
I search for love in humanity’s heart,
faith smaller than a mustard grain.
I find among the trees a peace, and in the ocean deep,
Spirit moving, a current, pushing hatefulness off.
Minds waking from centuries’ sleep.
Though life is bit by bit
Falling into an enemy’s pit
Is a total misfit
Because a bandit
Can cook a titbit
For the blood we knit
Not to flow but quit,
Then that, which we did inherit
Would be an exhibit
In order to limit
Where we inhabit
For our permit
To lose its merit,
So that when they hit
From wherever they sit
They can yell Brexit O Brexit
I am not my own,
For I had nothing to do with my existence,
I was merely a thought mercifully conceived in the creator’s mind.
I am not my own,
For I did not design nor decide what skin dark or bright to permanently wear,
I was clothed in black/brown earth following the potter’s careful image.
I am not my own,
I am nature’s because I swing on icy strings tied around its hands,
I am my land’s as my existence is the extension of its love,
Not my own, never my own.
Missiles shooting
north south east west —
enemies everywhere,
the Homeland colonized by its own
now being ravaged by all
even its former subservients —
the destroyer noses for the bottom.
How brief the reign of empires –
on the daily map schoolchildren watch
as Germany’s black runs over
Europe’s many borders,
as Japan assaults Asia
the brave Chinese.
Now The United States
its rich and poor slaughtered equally
its bases all over the world lost
its navy loose on the seas
No, my world!
“I shall never be hopeless ...
whatever you may say.
I shall rhyme my life with the
rhythm of God’s chime, and
row my boat of love over the human’s core
until the stream of abhorrence runs dry,”
sang the infant to the world.
Sun! Don’t rise like a scaffold ..! Let the darkness engulfed like the dark cloth round the neck Of the victim clear itself …. Sun! Don’t rise till the gallows Are removed for ever From the face of the Earth Till a hangman Refuses to take the life of another person By force… For a few bucks When the person[Read More...]
