Judgement’s High Way
My smug satisfaction drives in narrow lanes
Deep with pitfalls of intentional ignorance
“Righteous” reads my personal license plate
Sentenced to loud lane-splitting intolerance.
My bias trips on truth at tangled crossroads,
Blinded to orgies in my house of thin glass,
Cuts off compassion, in condescending tongues,
Detours grace to side roads, a one-way bypass.
But, grace stills my hands, determined to throw stones,
Though exiled, still speeding in judgement’s fast lane,
Mercy reaches down with the gentlest touch
Removes my darkened shades – glasses with pride stained.
Charity speeds down my highways, unrestricted,
My new eyes cleared from judgements I inflicted.
NO FEAR OF DOMESTIC
TERRORISTS THREATS
TRULY SAD I'LL TRY
HARD NOT TO READ
YOUR PLATES TODAY
UNLIKE FRANKIE BOY
CALI SHOT PICKING UP
HIS LICENSE PLATE
NO FEAR OF GARGANO
CRIME FAMILY
A black sportscar driven by a new driver
Mistakes a two-lane road for a three-lane road
The driver of the car zooms in between two other cars
They both pull off, shaken
One of the drivers is an off-duty police officer.
He goes to the other driver to see if he is okay.
The men discuss what happened.
Did you get a good look at the driver?
Neither of them can describe him
Maybe he was young?
I think he had a red cap.
Before the police officer leaves
The fifteen-year-old girl asks, “Did you want his license plate number?”
Until this moment she had been excluded from the manly conversation.
busybodies might help catch criminals
if they write down every type of car and license plate
parked on their block and the blocks around their blocks
it would be helpful too if they jotted down the drivers descriptions
they could then be elevated from arm chair detectives….
to real detectives.
I would be the first in line
if I had any neighbors
which I do not.
None close anyway
I went to a museum Saturday
enjoying art with daughter, friend, and wife.
It was our daughter's 30th birthday-
a lovely way to celebrate her life!
Then clouds descended on our afternoon.
Discovering, returning to my car
some driver turned the corner far too soon
and mashed my fender, leaving a black scar.
But, lest the hit-and-run scar irritate,
two witnesses displaying kindness, wrote
the color, model, make, and license plate,
and left it on my windshield as a note.
Discouraged by one driver's thoughtlessness
Encouraged by two witnesses' largesse.
written 3 Apr 2023
Two fresh plates to adorn my humble chariot.
The one on top had the honor of being mounted at the front,
as my customary parking pattern
is to back into a space on the far side of the garage.
But soft ... was it an honor?
To be figurehead, first to see, noble vanguard,
and yet,
bombarded for countless hours by suicidal bugs,
dust, gravel, and mud.
The rear plate will soon be far cleaner,
and has the quiet, reflective view of what has passed.
Though it might wish for the electric thrill
of seeing things first.
I wonder which the plate on top would prefer,
if it had more claim than its fellow below.
But fate granted me judicial clarity.
Top is front; bottom is back.
Different fates - each with their own charm.
Grow not envious, o plates.
Your positions both have great beauty.
18 November 2022
Greeting children at our school from the car line yesterday.
First car seemed to be parked. No one appeared to be in it.
Maybe someone is gardening, I thought. The garden is six feet from it.
The brake lights came on. I expected a child to get out.
No child did. I had a peculiar feeling about it, an unsafe feeling.
I went inside got a pencil and paper and wrote down the plate number.
Continued greeting children. The car did not move. No one got out.
I was feeling unsettled.
Was someone waiting for a particular child? And why?
That afternoon a man claiming to be a father tried to get into the school.
He was shaking and kicking a side door. A teacher asked what he wanted.
He said he was a father and wanted in. She told him to go to the front.
He went to another side door and tried it.
I gave the license plate number to security when they came.
Because I had felt unsafe.
Man was mentally unstable.
Judgement’s Way
Smug satisfaction drives a narrow way
With pitfalls of intentional ignorance
Righteous the personal license plate
Sentenced to perfection’s map intolerance
Judgement trips over truth at overgrown crossroads
Blinded to orgies in its house of thin glass
Cuts off compassion in condescending tongues
Detours grace to side roads on this one way morass
But grace stills hands determined to throw stones
Though exiled, from judgement refrains
Reaches down with mercy’s gentle touch
Takes off darkened shades of pride’s glasses stained.
True clarity speeds on boulevards unrestricted
Judgmental wears same robes as the convicted.
4-29-21
Contest: Judge Not Lest You Be Judged
Sponsor: John Lawless
lube yourself up car
young one searches frantically
cannot find gas tank
oil tell him says my man
it is behind license plate
Kid at the service station looks to be fifteen. Sixteen tops.
He has walked around our old relic three times
Looking for the gas tank.
My husband is gleefully watching him in the rearview mirror.
That’s the fourth time! He says, laughter in his voice.
Go help him, I say, annoyed.
This is a game we play at every gas station
When we drive the antique car out.
Gas tank is underneath the license plate. Sheesh!
Funny how some come to this land
smiling-humble and wide-eyed
attracted by the lady
with gentle flame in her hand.
Then while they build their fine home
on a pricey piece of land.
They start listening to the dregs..
blue cymbals start banging
inside their heads.
They begin to dig a mind hole
for each car they've bought
for each fancy pair of shoes.
Another spade fills with dirt
and deeper in the mind hole they go.
Into the darkness of perceived oppression
the wide eyes narrow
not a hint of humble to be found.
Another spade slices deeper
stripes of anger and hate
replace that once smiling face.
From the pulpit
through a stained glass window
of their fine home
to the vanity license plate
they bark loudly about oppression.
How everything is stacked against them
there's a constant riot in their head
The mind hole deepens and widens...
a place where sunlight has no chance.
The real tragedy of it all
is they hand the spade over to their children-
i once woke up and ate the bones in a tomb deep in
the sunken eyes of a faded god
the faded eyes of a sunken god
a
sunken
n
g
e
l
in the red water in the ghastly trenches at the pit of the universe
opening his mouth, screaming silence in sprite bubbles
on their way to each corner of this one plane
where selfless means not having a self
he once fell off the bleachers in gym class and broke off his jaw
it was hanging by a noose from the roof of his coffin
his neck twisted and blood falling from his mouth like he had eaten Betelgeuse and a wormhole formed in his spine
a distorted face peeling open like the paint of a doll
revealing plastic ball-jointed pieces
gnawing mechanically in spirals
he once pulled up to my house in a holographic Dodge Charger
and asked me if i wanted to dry swallow crystal balls with him
his license plate read “666”
and right beneath it was a bumper sticker that read “Try God. 101.7.”
i remembered it like it was tomorrow
i cried but only flesh came out
so i shook it off like a dog and went far away to die
I see the signs Lord
What am I seeing these signs for
I know you trying to tell me something
Not sure what it is
1111 222 333
What am I constantly seeing this
The store I work in
Car license plate
See the signs every day
Is what you telling me right in my face
If I’m that blind lord,
Allow me to see
Free me from wondering and guessing
Cause I don’t get it still
Lord I’m frustrated for real
Sometimes I lose faith
Even though I pray everyday
What is it you trying to tell me
Maybe I’m overthinking
That’s what I’m starting to believe
Forgive me for feeling this way
Maybe I should just stop worrying and wait
Maybe it’s a surprise
Lord don’t do that to me
I want to know what these sings mean
What do you have in store for me
I can’t help but to be nosy
Why am I seeing 1111 2222 3333
Lord please
Trump Thoroughly Upset
Starting this one from scratch.
Trump is upset and has made us upset;
Seems to fool around and always fret;
Injured in shade,
By a grenade,
Was in offensive he thinks they call Tet.
He even lied about this. What spurs him on
amazes me and I have many bones to pick
with him. Have heard he has Vietnam Vet
on his license plate as of late. Oh, and he
is offensive in many ways these days.
Jim Horn
TRICK TREAT CRASH
bullied time after time after time
rolling is funny
but as time goes by and by
humor says goodbye
falling leaves dying and dying
line crossed after midnight
father is on a vendetta to snap and snap
rolling up to one of the cars
taking pictures of the license plate
the other car speeds on and on
the driver of the getaway car
has had her license for a moment, a moment
in time, she turns off her lights in the dead of night
the shadowy car wraps and wraps
itself around an innocent tree, the victim’s father
cries and cries, as he finds his daughter’s classmates
beside himself on court tv, in its early days
he lives his shame over and over again
a lesson to be learned, by the impulsive!
think and think, before you follow your instincts!
10/4/2017
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