My foe is back
Eight years later
Still tracking footprints
Still throwing shade
Chief hater
Slinging grenades in stacks
Click boom
Lurking like a swamp gator
Cold blooded
No tact
No soul
Just impact
Takeover in phases
Careers torched
Dreams scorched
You hateful witch
Buy
Destruct
Sell
Demonic greed
On a platinum shelf
You torch what you touch
Then grin to yourself
You will never understand
Here take this
It’s useless
Like rebellion in a Fortune 500
Fruitless
Like screaming in a soundproof room
Mute this
But I can't
I won’t
So I do this
Sick with the heat of it
Haunted by the truth of it
Dragging myself
Down this road
Again
No map
No justice
No righteousness
Categories:
reprised, conflict,
Form: Free verse
Americans were shocked and stunned
‘Reason’ abandoned, injustice had won
On Sept. 8, 1974, when President Ford exited the stage
The Republican right was left in fistic rage
While the Democrat left was aghast, How could Ford do this
The scales of justice, now so sorely amiss
To pardon a President, guilty in every possible way
of undermining the law and his opponent just didn’t play
It cost Ford the next election, ‘cos Richard Nixon he’d pardoned
Voters’ adverse reaction over two years so hardened
They elected an unknown, a neophyte named Carter
next to whom the Ayatollah Khomeini looked smarter
Yet the country moved on, hindsight thanked Ford
~ That Biden pardon Trump ~ start petitioning the Lord
Categories:
reprised, america, analogy, leadership, moving
Form: Couplet
What beauty is (to the geometrist),
has the shape of the Golden Ratio.
Beauty is courage, the defiant fist
of a protector fear can't overthrow.
Beauty, also, is Hector's promised vow,
to defend city, child, and princess bride.
What beauty is, moves Priam, to not show
his ire for Paris's treach'rous regnocide.
What beauty is not, is beauty falsified,
by artifice and insincere, harsh light;
what beauty is not, is show turned on worldwide,
that's streamed, displayed, and wirelessed day and night.
However, beauty is what frames your face:
which e'vn shames Helen of the Trojan race!
Categories:
reprised, beauty, literature, love, metaphor,
Form: Sonnet
A love so hot and tempting as rising dough,
like fruit, oft' ripens during spring's brief life.
So feed the hunger! Bite the apple. Though
some will judge you, let it not cause you strife.
“What role does Nature have for a pure virgin?”
That, O chaste, young head maiden, is the question:
enjoy the pleasures of youth, long before sin
takes hold by the Pharisee's loathsome religion.
Even priests tire from their show of virtue,
set ablaze like kindling with their great lusts!
The constant flames in you which won't harm you,
yearn for the feeling of your Father's thrusts.
Thus, God's saints gather round in heaven's choir,
as love hopes to lift bone-hard cocks even higher.
Categories:
reprised, desire, longing, love, lust,
Form: Sonnet
Far from this antique bay and moor,
your plaintive voice sung for my soul,
and lifted me to Ithaca's shore.
Can longing's echoes loudly toll,
and invite me to your front door,
like gods that decreed from a scroll.
I sailed to Troy and far beyond,
to go and fight an epic war.
Men joined, forming paired, loving bonds
to be their bright and glowing North Star.
I took a boy, a vibrant blonde,
with whom I shared many battle scars.
With Poseidon, the fates between,
the sea opposed us. But I loved
the youth, Penelope my Queen.
Please forgive us, my loyal dove,
and spare us from your jealous spleen,
so Zeus sends no bolts from above.
I loved you, but desire's arrow,
against my willpower pierced my heart!
Compelled by Cupid's dart and bow,
we made love. To honor royal art,
I cede my throne: — but you can't know,
loving you both tears me apart.
Without you, I was forced to grow?
Categories:
reprised, journey, love, love hurts,
Form: Lyric
Since a child
I am quiet when the thunder rolls
A but smile
When lightning touches the coals
It's not me
To argue or compete with wrath
Nor could be
Common found in a common path
I learned too
Never to be sure again, for god must
Only true
And surer than all little mortal dust
For how then
Was Adam and with better minds
Than we men
Convinced? Any seeking always finds
Strange this truth
For light is bent where anxiety flows
We are brutes
Who by tales make others into foes.
Forgive me
I can speak comfortably with my friends
I pity
Any who rave with self and need amends.
Categories:
reprised, education,
Form: Rhyme
What stones seeks truth
In this light
What darkness reveals
Truth, in this night
To know this answer,
What truth seems right
Categories:
reprised, introspection
Form: Free verse
The breath of priest
Stains this tainted glass
This light of men
In the eyes of God
Forgive me Lord,
For I have sinned
We shall not
Break this code, within or
Let these confessions explode, again
Dear Lord, these priests are men. Amen
Categories:
reprised, introspection
Form: Free verse