She is sitting,
front legs under her reddish-brown mass.
When I think of her shape
it is always her belly I see most.
The bulging warmth,
the mastication, her on-going digestion.
I'm a boy,
the large cow is my meaty lean-to.
One hot summer afternoon can last for years,
on one such a year
I was resting my back
on her bovine flank's, she did not seem to care.
I really think she wanted to feel me listening
to her giant belly.
A drowsy time took its rest also.
Bees buzzed, but far away.
High flying gees made the sky speak.
Listening to her massive body, I think
I melded into her life. Her ongoing
industrial mashing
of moist clods of vegetable materiel.
The rhythmic digestive process
seemed to me to be almost musical.
When she farted, it was as though
she had turned roughage to water,
and water into wine.
I could smell the spirit of the grass,
and strangely,
I could within my own small form,
feel the mutable mystery of the land
as it churned grain into bread,
our meat to spirit.
We stand on the brink of a savage day
Astounded by the onslaught of fighting
In Ukraine, a beautiful land, so far away
Where the fires of cannon are igniting
Flames of hatred, fear, and mistrust
As the free world stands by in horror,
While a dictator satisfies his greedy lust
Like a modern-day reincarnated Fuhrer.
The best course of action seems hazy
But we’re told everything is on the table
To send American troops seems crazy,
Still, we must respond as we are able.
Perhaps warning of the long-term effect
This incursion upon innocents warrants,
We can, hopefully, impress upon the tyrant
We will punish his disregard for respect.
It seems a small, insignificant response
But we have the power to cripple his might
Let him not take what appears nonchalance,
For his nation will suffer a crippling plight --
Ostracized by all peace-loving nations,
Strapped for needed materiel resources,
Unable to trade for the necessary rations
Essentially embargoed from available sources.
written February 26, 2022
the onset of emotional nadir,
where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
decrying, detonating, and describing me own Pigs Bay
Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
sphere inroads usurped no delay
riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did Swiss hide dill naught
to decimate with Sherman determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times) referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
of rebel voices yelling “HOORAY”
Tear at the veil,
If you wish to see,
For it is a shocking reveal,
Of what one can truly be.
If glory and valor,
Are all you wish for,
Judge by ones own measure,
Not by another's.
It may seem impossible,
To achieve ones dreams,
But it is not mere gospel,
To stitch realities seams.
So for no one but thy self,
Do I jot these lines,
For I gain no materiel wealth,
Only my minds shrines.
Do I put my trust in these few treasures that I have on earth, are they not made of wood
and clay? Where thieves and liars carrier them away. Do I put my worldly possessions under
lock and key; will that keep the world at bay? Is my trust in government where our economy
is shaken every day? Where there are bombs and guns killing innocent ones. Will I put my
trust in religiosity where people use God as a commodity? Were the church and politics have
become united in one.
My trust is not in earthly treasures; for I know that these materiel things will melt away. I
know that I have a home awaiting me not made by mortal hands. A palace fit for a king; on
streets of gold where there are jewels and emeralds and sapphire untold. No bombs or gun,
government nor politics will there be, the former things will all flee. For my treasures are laid
up beyond the crystal sea where God reigns and heavenly angels sing,
praises unto the King!
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