somewhere sunflowers catch a Van Gogh glow
nature's fragile stems
that pull us up
that spill their light
like heroism
to break the growling crumbs of earth
somewhere people die, bludgeoned by circumstance
by life altering chaos
from a tyrant's malice
that strays like poison gas
to sever their resolve
somewhere folks rebuke science
to strip a health direction
claims of stifling freedom
flashing banners of entitlement
that risk collective safety
somewhere freedom's script
breaks its rigid capsule
for a people reclaiming dignity
to fight the beastly brute
the truest code of conduct
towering
like sunflower fields in far off places
Poem composed April 15, 2022
Three cheers to a man who threw off his shackles
Key turned by cancer door slammed by his wife
An eleventh hour primal urge stirring
A man had decided to reclaim his life
He did what he did to provide for his family
More than that he did it for pride
Given we know what before the fall goeth
Of his ruinous end we should be not surprised
Society thought that he was a weakling
He would admit he went through life afraid
Until the day when the straw broke the camel
And now we sing of the stand that he made
Who would have thought someone so mild mannered
Would put a bullet in a rival's head
Some would take issue with how he did business
Mostly though those people are dead
He died alone in a pool of irony
He'd tell you his decisions were bad
When the world tries to strip a man of his dignity
It's hard to conceive of a choice to be had
March 18, 2017
When mother nature swirls around
sweeping dust and dirts off the ground;
her dance steps create sour sights and sound...
which make torture in nature abound.
Hear the cannonading thrusts of thunder;
how each sparks tear the atmosphere asunder.
Watch the pitter patter raindrops plunder
those little lilies we watch with wonder.
Morning music begins with cocks crowing;
and at noon, Magpies on trees keep warbling.
No one waits to hear the green snakes' slithering;
as nature keeps the moonlight trees whispering.
I hear the sound of silence in the cloud...
and the whispers of windstorm ever loud.
Autumn tells a tale of how to humble the proud...
Nature nutures noises that could strip a stroud.
When mother nature swirls around
sweeping dust and dirts off the ground;
her dance steps create sour sights and sound...
which make torture in nature abound.
Hear the cannonading thrusts of thunder;
how each sparks tear the atmosphere asunder.
Watch the pitter patter raindrops plunder
those little lilies we watch with wonder.
Morning music begins with cocks crowing;
and at noon, Magpies on trees keep warbling.
No one waits to hear the green snakes' slithering;
as nature keeps the moonlight trees whispering.
I hear the sound of silence in the cloud...
and the whispers of windstorm ever loud.
Autumn tells a tale of how to humble the proud...
Nature nutures noises that could strip a stroud.
For me her dark skin
is a hymn to the night
no such evening
could ever produce
such a sweeter tone
a lovely seduction of light...
A divine pleasure
like a wintry fireside
I burn candles with her
at four O'clock
with shutters closed
curtains flowing to the floor..
When we love
the wind and rain
rage audibly about
her touch and opium kisses
bring the calm of a dove
her mauve lips of grapes...
Losing myself in her ebony eyes
who would strip a rainbow
of it's color
or remove the silver lining
from a cloud?
Should i deny myself
of her lovely flower
just because it is a different color?
she brings a haunting melody in the wind
my labyrinth of desire
laying in fields of poppy...
As nation's strip in conquest's rung
withing small ranks, the same song sung
is stripping of all man's among
to dialogue yeah, provisions none!
Soul stripping as religious feign
is almost tempting man's remain
to give to God all self's contain,
yet strip a self of worthwhile claim.
How valid is my own complete
as charity I am humbled, beat ~
so trusting, yet injustice feat
continues on, the stripping's creed!
As even age strips times repeat,
I strip my faith in thee, replete
this stripping down of resource' meet,
not justifying, how ingrate!
Strip not my love, eternal beat ~
This drum that carries my defeat
is often sounding ~ often fleet
with score rebounding . . . never sweet!
As nation's strip in conquest's rung
within small ranks, the same song sung
is stripping of all man's among
to dialogue yeah, provisions none!
Soul stripping as religious feign
is almost tempting man's remain
to give to God all self's contain,
yet strip a self of worthwhile claim.
How valid is my own complete
as charity, I am humbled, beat -
so trusting, yet injustice feat
continues on, the stripping's creed.
As even age strips times repeat,
I strip my faith in thee, replete.
This stripping down of resource' meet,
not justifying, how ingrate!
Strip not my love, eternal beat,
this drum that carries my defeat
is often sounding - often fleet
with score rebounding . . . never sweet!
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