A deep concern for those who
had suffered from the horrors
of Helene and Milton.
A faith in a God
which makes his worshipers
suffer might cause one to believe that
people are conditioned to be exploited.
Did Satan created the condition
that the selected few could tell the
tale of the disaster.
Themes and subject matters cater to
the taste of it's audience.
Yet it neither addresses the numbness
and loss associated with material and
personal disacosation.
Comfort my body and my soul
might the troubling need of belonging
keep me worthy and true.
Might my mind and my spirt recollect it's
sence in belonging.
The tough fight ahead of us all
is neither socaail or genered.
But is supported by us all.
The dog wore a rainbow bandana
A feral cat hissed at it
Birds bullied each other at the feeder
A hawk in the shadows
Rats scurried through the alleys
Of both the rich and poor
(garbage is garbage)
Children waited for the school bus
Breakfast waited for them
An old woman collected “recyclable” cans
(a homeless entrepreneur)
I wondered
“do politicians ever look out the window?
There once was a cowboy from Nevada.
He wore a barf bag as a bandana.
When he rode on his horse,
his sickness grew worse,
and his intestines flared with melena.
I once met a sweet gal from Savannah
She loved the size of my red bandana
She put it around her neck;
Twice, I was a total wreck,
She told me her name was Mrs. Suzanna.
June 8, 2021
*I believe I've awoken the little red panda
donning five yellow stars on a crimson bandana
spreading hectares of jaded Jinping propaganda*
*She lives in a land of dragons and Maoist oppression
I think I'm becoming her latest star spangled obsession
Sad,she'll probably never breathe sweetened air of the free
or feel warmth from the torch of Staten Island's fairest lady*
*As she tap taps away on her communist keys.
Careful not to say anything blue about her chairman Xi.
She knows with a slip of the mind -one twitch of the teeth.
She'll be chum to the yellow sharks of the south China sea...
I Hope someday she has the means and courage to finally flee.
Sing a song for old Hong Kong over sweet cups of green peace*
* If you ever make your way over, don't tote any echo locaters.
Unless it's a pod of democracy dolphins-they tend to be voters -not haters.
They'll batter yellow sharks if you drift from the star spangled breakers.
God bless to your journey -I pray that you stay safe and finally make it*
A young tennis brat from Indiana
Dressed in a psychedelic bandana
When he put it on
It glowed bright neon
Lit up the court from here to Montana
Inspired by Kevin Shaw's
State Limerick Poetry Contest
But not a contest entry
I watched him wading through waves of grass.
His sunlit skin, from top to chin, was creased.
His gaze was wide as the prairie skies.
His crinkled eyes scanned the bladed sea
As if for something he’d find out there.
He said naught if he searched the long ago;
Or if he saw storm clouds yet to come;
Or if he felt the fallow ground was ripe
To plow and plant the harvest grains again.
He did not say what was on his mind,
But tipped his hat and smiled, and walked on by,
A sweaty red bandana dripping
From a pocket of his old blue jeans.
I have scanned the prairie skies much since then.
I’ve probably seen the things he saw.
And I smile as if for sure I know
As I turn back to the house again,
A faded red bandana in my jeans.
faded bandana pulled down below eyes ~ robbing youth
1/2/2018