What’s in a disease
when hate is all one needs
to chip away the soul...
Chunks us to our knees,
exposes all the darkness
Deep within
called
sin.
They say, it’s not my fault
They say, it’s in my genes
But every time I let one out
Everyone turns green
“Oh God” I hear them try to scream
As they gasp for air and breathe
God I’m not but some do believe
I may be a silly Martian
Landing bombs indiscriminately
Even though it is they
So, it seems to me
Who all are turning green
I swear it’s not my fault
But my body does not lie
When everything has gone to it
It’s time to let it fly
The pressure gets to be too much
So, I let ‘er rip
It’s time for my assault
So Everyone best get a grip
I never hold it back or halt
It only makes it worse
Releasing stinky poetry
Is my earthly curse
Plague
If there is a so-called
From Love Disengagement
I’d rather languish in chains
Than aimlessly wandering
Freed and deprived from loving
Like, where do you get that, honey
It’s so grandiose and cool
Love is like a virus
It can attack anyone anytime
Your hand touching mine
This is when galaxies collide
Pleasing intoxication
Such a stunning collision
Hand in hand immersion
Dr. Moody was discouraged, his job had taken a turn.
This was the third plague that hit Minnesota in twelve years.
People were dying in ditches, seeking relief from their open sores.
Frozen corpses with gaping mouths greeted him from town to town.
Optimism had died about three years back
he had no idea why he survived.
Three plagues, and he was one of the few who was still mobile.
Some were in wheelchairs; others had their limbs amputated.
A few had gone blind; these plagues were unpredictable and fierce.
He stopped in front of the farmhouse; checked the address one more time.
Got out his equipment and began the slow heartfelt climb onto their porch.
Since the plagues had started, he wondered if this was a plea for death call.
“In here,” a woman called. Her voice sounded hoarse.
He walked in and observed three huddled figures on the couch.
“Not them,” she told him.
Confiding that she knew she did not have much time.
She wanted him to raise her children. Dr. Moody was speechless.
He had already opened his home to fourteen homeless children.
This plague was no joke.
You'll give me all-sign I will
You'll bury me top that Hill
You're a Christian not a Jew
What hubris inferred by you
Death you tease bury me, please
Breath I, bended knees, appease
I will sign, my life is thine
I will find, the Lord divine
Why say you, you are a Jew
Soon you thru be a rich Jew
A pox done without the clue
Fair future you'll die from flu
Ill fate you'll not see my end
How-I'm carrying your coffin
God, cure me of this disease,
A ever-lasting disease,
A disease of the heart,
A disease of the mind,
In which love-sick fools seem to linger,
I have looked far and wide,
For its end to come by,
God, how I wish this was a lie,
But now I'm amongst the infected,
Blindly, being by his side
God, forgive my sin,
The peace I once found in you
Has been conquered by him
In Spring there’s friendship that’s lasted through the Winter,
all those cold nights of salted drops and quilts of snow.
The obsidian plague of midnights, melancholic drapes,
but all the while the candlelight of friendship did glow.
you’d think she’s the sun -
i wax and wane in restraints
having lost my way
The flickering of her tongue as she wet our weep with wine.
O how the shadows flickered on the walls as if in mirth.
The slow burn lasted as the wind howled, the chimney choked.
Her wrinkled, waxy skin, a kin to suffering and pain.
each deep etched line spoke
a sticky web of knowing
lips barely moving
That Spring, she showed up with an armful of daffodils,
and silliness, tears stinging her neck, this honeybee.
She understood madness, and the brumal sun. Outliers
could not drink our elixir nor interlope upon our phoenix rising.
cascade of the moon
no longer afraid of dark -
white lacy curtains
beak
of the plague mask
lest I smell
your rotting bodies
strewn
I smell your crosses
daub your doors
I smell your corpses
pile your carts
I smell your fires
flame your dead
I smell you earth
and weep for you
cried moon
From a comet’s tail, like pepper on a meal
sprinkling down on the land
upon the earth, the contagious death
the cleansing of God’s hand
Genocide made, from a periodic plague
swelling numbers of the dead
when life departs, with heavy hearts
of the times that lay ahead
From rich or poor, it seeks for more
to feed upon its evil
with terrible pain, of who were slain
by the horrific cosmic devil
Tearing the will, a numbness feel
no one is safe to hide
a celestial throw, of prevailing woe
on the comet’s trailing ride
Like a skyward beast, soaring from the east
a mighty dragon span
its subtle wings, and deadly fangs
and fire to decimate man
The invading spell, straight out of Hell
that curses all who live
their bodies writhe, to stay alive
and the suffering they give
Bringer of death, taker of breath
destroyer of life around
deliverer of ill, killer of will
burrier in the ground
With bodies spent, from furnace sent
from static streak on high
the festering cull, deflesh the skull
as the comet passes by
The plague makes us weak
As the beach advance the sea
Paint horizon bleak.
A brotherly jaunt through sinister mirth
behold the brothers Death:
gowned and guided, an ill century
the fourteenth, an alliance of crop, of plague
in ground-down death of torrential pains
in sores and blood under the rains
that drowned the land, starved the bellies
there echoed howls of ill exclaim
a wanting of a light to shine
is where the brothers thought that they
worked well together, effectively
one would scoop from ruined crop
one from sickness, war, attack
the beak, a sign, of the plague mask
in shacks, where hags mopped weeping rot
crosses on doors, on floors of straw
with nothing in the cooking pot
the brothers danced and sang their wealth
of many clientele they sought
and on they went, and on they struck
perfecting songs on appetites
of pestilence and of disease
hand in hand like trees whose leaves
do smother, smite, in murderous breeze
the brothers, down the ages tease
and beckon, wreaking havoc on,
like rolling waves of seas on high
always taunting their sister - life
She searched for Paradise,
instead,
the road led her to a land of demise.
A plague of pain had rolled out on this land,
it had spread across, through the evil tongue.
She looked around,
mainly
suppressed souls were found.
Silent roars of their sufferings extend for miles,
screams were suffocated, behind fabricated smiles.
Foul tongues were twisted together,
gathered under narcissistic scarves.
Sharp words were wounding each other
tearing their inner selves in halves.
In contrast, she chose to rise above,
reconnect with her spirit,
She surrendered to love,
God became her guide in living.
You can search, but you will not find,
if you are looking from amongst blind.
Pure spirits are floating high in the sky,
join them by freeing your soul, letting it fly.
Tune in to the rhythm of your soul,
feel the God, He guides your move,
peace lies on the path to wholeness,
don’t stop until you reach its brightness.
Paperwork is the scourge
Of every occupation
Every day you hear the sighs
Coming from the population
Reams of paper pile up high
Deadlines come up quick
You’re stressed right up to the max
Your boss gets on your wick
Rapidly you lose the will
To continue with the day
Resist the urge to kick the wall -
Just bin the lot
and
walk
away....
The Dancing Plague of 1518: Collaboration with Dilly Dally
A plague cursed, until death they dance
Until forever lasts this plight
Moving hypnotic deep in trance
Onlookers revel at the sight
From days to weeks, from dawn til' night
Hysteria spread the expanse
Collapse in exhaust by firelight
A plague cursed, until death they dance
Can I dance myself free perchance
Repent and be rid of this smite
I bleed amidst this endless prance
Until forever lasts this plight
Exhaustion sets with hope just slight
Up to Saint Vitus' healing glance
Limbs swinging limp, glazed eyes contrite
Moving hypnotic deep in trance
Free me of sin, my soul enhance
Crosses on shoes to quell the fright
Quicken the end, I beg advance
Onlookers revel at the sight
They fell in numbers, losing might
By now all but God looked askance
Dance to rest and read the last rite
All life is but a game of chance
A plague cursed
May 22, 2023
Prejudice is the oldest communicable disease of the mind
May 11, 2023
'News' may simply be
an acronym,
North, East, West, South,
Space-time continuum
Headlines capture minds—
Imagine the water cooler buzz
if the front-page news was:
"A Plague of Grackles!"
"A Murder of Crows!"
"A Conspiracy of Ravens"
"A Parliament of Owls"
Bird's-eye views of
All that's news!
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