I said I couldn’t write
for I am an empty pen,
my ink wasted
on letters no one will read.
Torn, crumpled,
fed to the black hole
of a trash can.
Now I write of silence
Etching words into wood
For I have broken my vow with the papers
It isn’t determination,
nor delusion
just a moment,
a fragment that insists on staying.
And still, I write
not with ink,
but with the sharp edge
of a pen
long drained of stain.
Large heads
The Modern Slavery Crisis Must Be Addressed.
Calling on all poets for an urgent meet-up
The Pied Piper has surfaced again in this world.
On this occasion, he is dressed in a Jojo Armani suit.
He never drinks bottled water from the guest tables
He questions the labels, he questions the cell phones
He reacts to the earplug in their ears
It brought on a wave of sadness,
What is this madness? He said under his breath!
He looked across at the audience,
And whisper how convenient!
Stand up, stand up, stand up for your rights
Did this new generation go down without a fight?
No pointed hats, but why so many large heads?
Here ye hear ye, hear ye, have the men and women
This generation sold their souls for honey.
Misery is a life sentence in which love company,
That is why he called the meetup today, per se,
Cats and dogs will never be friends, he said in an unknown language
Timekeepers cannot stop time, time will run out,
Large heads will Strunk because it filled with air,
Great leaders of the world, I welcome you all.
But I am not Bob the builder, I can't shape your future
I am the Pied Piper:
The Spiritual/Material Nexus is Biology and its material antithetical responses to "The Laws of Nature".
That process is fundamentally "Cooperative"; a symbiosis based on "Trust".
The successful Social Organism, "Civilization", operates the same way.
President Trump never speaks "The Truth".
A "Faithless" Government is a failure calling for immediate remediation or abolition to safeguard our Individual values.
The Stars and the Stripes,
Is the blood that we shed.
I pledge allegiance to the flag,
Running through my head.
The Home of the Brave,
And the land of the free.
Soldiers died to give their life,
For you, and for me.
The Stars and the Stripes,
Is the blood that we shed.
I’m proud to be an American,
Running through my head.
The Home of the Brave,
And the land of the free.
God Bless our USA,
For you, and for me.
Beautiful O Beautiful,
Are the Stars and the Stripes.
Scream it loud for all to hear.
Fight, Fight, Fight.
"Izzie"
I know a quiet girl whose name is Izzie
Pays twenty dollars to get a little dizzy
Lately, she's busy smoking up on that boy
Poisoned capillaries we both can enjoy
She's been romanced in pitch black death
Sells her frail body that's powder fresh
Her blood jacked up for a little taste
Stabs a vein with her favorite toxic waste
Come on lil Izzie it's all you care to smoke
Don't worry this time, iffin y'all be broke
There's plenty more where that came from
Izzie baby, you & that boy sho enuf in love
Come see Daddy Kane any time baby
Now don't ya forget next time it'll be eighty
Midnight room filled in a junkie's worst kinda fears
Searching the floor hoping something appears
Combing the fibers of carpet for souvenirs
Just a mirage all your hopes disappear
Hush lil baby don't say a single word
Daddy Kane has got you a lil reward
The Punk Poe…
Always Be Punk…
Always Be Drunk…
(On Poetry)
THE
ROAD
TO
HEAVEN
IS
OBEDIENCE
TO
GOD'S
WORD
Passing years and Google
I wonder how old one has to be to have a dignified life, Google wants to re-identify myself
It appears there are many of me
They sent me a form where I have to place figures where they sit and move around
the problem is my eyesight is not good after
all at 86 six I’m not a Falk-eyed Indian
How this test can prove whether I’m me and not a company I don’t know
As it is I can’t log into X where I have 200 followers, which at my age is encouraging that there are people who like my view about politics and life in general
Old age is not for the insipid, we who are classified as old suffer joint pains and have legs unwilling to carry us around
Our minds are not as old as our bodies we have tons of experience to divulge, the politics of today have happened before, we know
Is there or should, there be a cutoff point to life
Say at 75 but we old think 75 is young, I even had girlfriends back then, who thought I was handsome; they should see me now!
I feel resentful, that Google in its hunt for
Fake accounts have singled me out after twenty years of loyal service
A new chapter in the country history now begins
Making America Great Again done through unity
Ending the political division that separate people
Republicans and Democrats rebuilding the dream
It is built on the founding fathers' vision for all
Choosing to be part of this new shared vision
American citizens sharing and living that dream
Dust down the founders declaration once again
Awaken the American Dream with your strength
When you stand together, you will stand united
Now, are you ready for the dawn of your dream
For they know not what they are doing
How could they not
as God-given capacity for ignorance
is only blasphemy when available
The Indigenous of New Zealand
Never heard Jesus's sweet name
until 1814, So all those natives
get to burn forever with Hauty
The proud church of Christ
and its east-west schisms
And Luther's nailed paper
Show God's "unauthorized" confusion
Mormons and Muslims follow
in the writing of many books
and their books on their books
and their books on their books and
Columbus sailed
The ocean blues
And racked up
Plenty IOU’S
In the realm where love intertwines with gain,
Bouquets and brands, a capitalist's terrain.
Gucci labels and bags, symbols of might,
Love's currency measured in material delight.
Flowers exchanged for moments in time,
A transactional love, a capitalist paradigm.
Dubai's allure, a destination grand,
An investment in passion, a capitalist's hand.
In the marketplace of affections, a lucrative trade,
Intimacy priced, where transactions are made.
Love becomes a commodity, a lucrative blend,
A capitalist benefit, where desires transcend.
Yet, beneath the surface, a paradox unfurls,
For love isn't confined to material swirls.
In the balance of wealth and emotions, we see,
The complex dance of love and capitalism's decree.
South Africa's tale, a fusion of hearts and gain,
Where love's richness isn't solely in the material lane.
In this capitalist romance, let hearts find their say,
For true connection transcends the price we pay.
With Biden and Xi hand in hand
Fentanyl precursors are banned
What’s the surprise
As costs of a high rise?
The incentive for crime will expand!
Author’s note: I expect many more of us will be burglarized, robbed, and assaulted. What’s the harm in focusing on treating addiction?
Seeking a light
Winter chill rustles faces in fields of grey
Feet ponder in the reservoirs of rain
Gazes search the blue line for wavering light
Frosty strangers stole their light
Branches of sanity lost in palls of grey
Running away from the pain in the rain
Nobody hears their cries but the rain
Searching for hope from darkness light
Speculating why they stand in the grey
Lost in the grey rain seeking unique light.
I was once your cowgirl and you were my Indian
This was in the San Joaquin valley of California that you planted your seed in me
Boy did we have a pow wow
It was a delicious experience and made me think of the
arrival of the Mayflower so long ago
Yes, I was your cowgirl at the ripe age of forty
And, you looked like such a beautiful Native American Indian
Together we played cowgirls and Indians
He's nine years beautiful
I write my thought
In what time has wrought
Doesn't mean I'm sad
Or mad
Just writing of the feeling of some point in time
About it I make a rhyme
I feel nothing when I write
Just words in the night
I can make you feel anything I want
My words can haunt
Can make you feel warm inside
Just taking you where my thoughts abide
Not meant to make you want to hide
Paint a picture with any given word
Make it heard
I feel no pain
Writing of rain
Don't have to get wet to describe the feel
To make it seem real
Same as pain memories serves me well
For a story to tell
Doesn't mean I'm all sad
Nor glad
Or mad
Means I'm a damn good at what I do
It's true.
For when I write
Even if it's all night
It's what I do
make you feel anything I want you to
Means Means I'm doing it right.
These things I write
Related Poems
Definition | What is Columbus Day in Poetry?