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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Each day’s (we’re alive) one more leaf that has fallen from tree (Fate’s collusion?), our edifice grown with the help of light garnered from sources outside of our provenance, moisture, and minerals, ‘cheap’s’ turned to ‘gold,’ not by Chemistry’s alchemist’s magical potions or ‘Rosetta Stone’ left behind archaeologist’s dig might discover but value of labor! Gold, Physics reveals (subterranean logic) requires Star to die! Just think, it’s such pretense, impregnating pollen required for our presence, mutations make moan on their path toward success! Do you think it’s in pride that spores count misadventures, the funerals where all the ‘might-have-beens’ frolic? All pessimists love to claim God’s dice born loaded; skills honed, deft mine gold in the pockets of others, recover spent fame with pure luck that rings hollow, their deals those of poser! They smile to make Truth look a lie. * Each day, too, marks fact all’ve less time for disasters, that peace (born of bleep!) can’t be canned (if it comes) and new plagues passed to planets won’t phase us at all (or does sin still attribute we played a bit part in)? My muse thinks it might! I fear ‘Truth’ could be worse! If God loves in years prior to birth, was my sin not mine too when God first dreamed my soul, long before the Big Bang made space real, wound time’s clock? We grok night sky that WAS but IS NOT! That speed of light’s steadfast means stars aren’t forecasters; will star still persist should we get there, succumbs to our fancy (a planet like Earth’s held in thrall) though we ‘see’ that it once was, now counterfeit image, its death in dim past! Did ‘Wise Men’ hold dear, star, that in truth had exploded, a briar, a thorn that wounds flesh of the faithful? Its light screamed, “A miracle!” (days took in passing)! To feel God’s still speaking, sounds fair! Most relate to this thought! * Each day, most mark moments we wish we’d spun better, and dream of a do-over (some time ahead)! Are our past’s five by five? No tomorrow is clear! There’s so much left to know that to grok that you don’t, means you’re smarter than Trump, kith, and ken, at least. Mercy’s a joke to them! Empathy’s fool’s game and loyalty means that you live to kiss asses of those Trump owes favors or favors Trump buys while the world gets polluted with Bone Spur’s cadres! World’s views are fake news that he’s money to fetter, wealth ‘proves’ he’s more ‘Right!’ Folks are better off dead if they have brains beginning. “Big brother” looks dear now the devil “is watching!” Could ‘stoned’ love dew more than stones rolling for life as they flee this Beast spouting Hell’s fire. My, he loves to hear surname, or scrawl it on buildings; attention bypasses a need to stay real, “Call me King, no good-byes!” “Girls to twelve get free pets! Guaranteed! No disease!” * Each day, our death gathers, Trump’s rabid ‘White Discards’ push men toward eclipse from which there’s no retreat (at times rich choke on their share)! Rich speak with one voice, that’s his voice, and her voice, and your voice, and my voice, and God’s voice (God’s by proxy) Trump’s notary witnessed (a truth hard to swallow)! Supreme Court reviewed the claim, passed it five four! But then Trump gave four holdouts their notice de facto and named new replacements while Congress reclined on his tee! ‘Trump’s rules -’ Mar-a-Lago,’ all fill out their scorecards before they tee off, for that means Trump can beat those most likely to whip him. ‘Sad Sacks’ can rejoice that their day’s work is over unless they ply favors at clubhouse, swill booze with crime’s coterie, play tag with playmates of buddies, or make sport with teenagers, Putin’s provided in ‘man cave.’ Republican spendthrifts, the Democrats blamed, we’re so lucky to live in the land of the free! Brian Johnston 6th of August in 2020
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