[Children all over the world are being slain without an enemy, other than ours.]
Category Archives: Wisdom
21st. century compass has no true North.
It circles quickly left— counter clockwise
then, clockwise right— endlessly spinning
in no direction
—until you step on it.
with crystal glass chips or plastic pieces
in the soles of your steps— they become new footprints.
Without arrows, digital flags, religion, or discrimination;
moving your steps equally forward in moral direction
for all the children
—We have wished for
Or given birth to—
Wishing peace in each movement
—life in progressive harmony.
—Forgiving each other in step
—without history’s cruel march
of forgotten sins.
How dare you say I ran away!
— Gun fire, violence in the street,
Whispers about how I look or speak.
I am huddled in an alley finding nothing new.
We agreed for something else— beyond boundaries
—Kicking ass and often hitting the ground
covering our face, committed to our personal space.
I went over the wall
and fucked the barbwire
— escaping with the truth.
Ladies I would invite you up for champagne and lobster
but, since I can’t get it up anymore—
would you like cheese and crackers?
Oh, you old ladies of lords!
Let me open the door
and light a candle
that excludes us from history books
banishing us from false assumption
enjoying each others company
—eating crackers and cheese.
When I said— what I said
and then— did something different
It was not false.
I just moved on—
not convinced of that particular truth.
Scolding me at 70 years old,
having burst in my youth with fire,
is about as productive as a wet match.
Although, I believe in the right of your opinion
and should be shared—
I also believe you will treat our intelligence
and our ignorance, with the stipulation—
of mutual respect.
Why do you insist on haunting
me with my past?
I have been forgivin’
…and have made retribution
from history into history
as I have clicked my mistakes
Into humanities recycle bin.
The sun has set
as so have you—
In the morning glow
of love— my tears of dew
—misting rainbows from my heart
falling to the ground
in full sunrise
in my opening eyes.
Yes, I miss you.
Though I will rise to dance in the morrow’
with the day’s first quest
half-smiling— after— sleeping alone.
All I can do, is adjust the jib until you hoist the sail”
As she was running calm waters with only the kicker on
—leaving the bay
Not needing any wind, just a cool facial breeze
—ignoring everything I say.
in silence, the wind picked up.
We stood nodding to each other, fore and aft, tightening the main sail.
—we sat together hand splashing water
leaning— into a beautiful day
Life is not a bowl of cherries
it’s a nutty fruit bowl of reality
—in full color
transcribed from black & white
over dark ripened rectitude
—spoiled by miss-steps, success,
and the feeling
you’re the only cherry in the bowl—
with sprinkled sugar and heavy cream.
Perhaps, as sour or perky as we are
we still spit the pit onto the floor
bowing on or mats, kneeling in our pews,
and howling at the empty bowl
—of the rising moon.
The distance for my success, that could be jumped; a quarter-mile wide and a quarter-mile deep, never existed. Yet, wearing a smile, I jumped! Then what?
I floated, between non-existing marks. With arms flailing, Legs wiggling in space, head heavy as an elephant, or, with maybe just their footprint.
Everything that I believed in, defending it from the start, to my last breath; to ultimately fall with foolish bliss in exhilaration, hitting face first into the ground.
Still, I have the urge to jump that cliff again.
But, this time, from another side.
Brass, brazen maple leaf, embossed with a very serious face. Buds around you change in every season; green in spring, leaf in summer, then celebrate their passing in bright reds, yellow, and orange. Crackling under my feet, whispering to me; seasons pass and I am looking forward to wintry solitude.
You, my friend, stand against my fence. Never blowing away. Brass and brazen, always in the same place.
A gift from a flea market, many years ago. A gift from my children, placing our imagination, with their love, in an honored presentation, on Father’s Day; of my favorite leaf, one from a maple tree, brass, brazen as could be; never blowing away, always in the same place, as their love continues for me.
Splintered kindling wood
Moss growing moist on north side
Summer serves them well
Written In Center Sandwich NH at Kathleen’s place.
Fear of Night
I toast to you with wine and sweetened bread;
Those of you who are still afraid of night.
Free will and slavery, share the same bed;
With bling bling’s insatiable appetite
Nay! Men nor women are excused from lies
When they say, “God’s words, only they can hear!”
Asking for cash, property, jams, and pies;
When, the Spoken Word is hearts hidden ear.
Hear! Hear! Hypocrisy of screaming hearts
Embracing beyond a hand shake or smile,
Stealing souls into night, into the dark,
Where straw shelters burn brightly on trial.
Banners, crucifixes, temples, stage lights,
Candles, and guns keep you on guard at night.
Sleeping with Sophia;
Bitter-sweet desire on a barbed wire fence.
Wisdom, seeks all lovers!
She transcends all borders erected on the altar of soldiers;
Escaping Venus and Narcissus.
Love Me, she quietly pleads.