Best Sign Of The Times Poems

Satellites in space keeping an eye on the human race
Independence in place a parental pacified pallid pace
Gods of war prepare for their cadaverous command
Narcissistic lair...

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I aint got no money and I'm goin' down fast

My heads in the toilet and my life's in the trash

I wish I had a penny...

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S o many tears are paid with precious blood,
 I mbued with promise, chaste and innocent,
  G one quickly with a brash and frantic...

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Spiritual stagnation staggers senses
Insidious insanity of intermittent information 
Gruesome gorging of gossips
Nauseating nature of narcissistic news

Oppression of other opinions
Flouting false faithfulness freely

Transparent traitors of truth
Hypocritical...

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SIGN OF THE TIMES

Silence is not always precious made in gold
In fact can be base alloy: dull and cold
Gleam gone dim, for the lack of...

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SIGN OF THE TIMES

Stones will be thrown down. The temple succumbs like Lazarus.
  Inconceivable evil hurled inside and outside satan’s circle.
Good perceived as bad...

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Do you realize now 
   that artistic expression 
has a very slim
chance 
of making 
you wealthy? 
   Sunlight pouring 
through my...

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Do you not realize 
 by now
That artistic 
   expression 
   has a very slim chance 
of 
making 
you 
wealthy 
...

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Seems there's less joy
  So I feel I must ask

I don't mean to be coy ~
  Can your smile be unmasked...

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Falling like lightening 
he who was cast forth 
from the greatest heights 
behold a pale horse 
and the name of him who sat on it...

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I was laying on the beach
On a hot August morn
A sudden pain in my gut
I knew that something was wrong
It's Eddie.  I felt it...

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1/16/21


Pure silence or the sound of wind chimes
Willing to do anything to save their own hides
People still committing horrific crimes
During low and high tide
It's been...

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There once was a girl
In the Coppertone ad
And her dog pulled her bathing suit down;
So her pale little butt
Was exposed by the mutt
Though the rest...

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Some have a hard time in drawing
From the experience that life has given
Always in need of help whether bold or pastel
In interpreting the art of...

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Is it still there, swaying in the
Chicago air?
I dream of myself with dark,
ribboned braids, being just seven.
And swinging my tanned legs as
hard as I Could,,trying...

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