Today we hold the middle ground
Lest we make a prophesy
Of Yeats’ “Second Coming”-
“The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.”
Today, We Vote!
struggle
Savage Waters
This disease leaves wounds,
rivers both wide and deep.
Too deep for fording
and much too wide for bridges,
so we build ferries
and brave treacherous waters,
holding connections
to our loved ones long estranged
by these savage waters wide.
A Tangle But No Tumult
Basking in the balm
of this fire sale we lit,
ashamed at my schadenfreude,
yet still gleeful, all the same.
Paltry Protection
Will, wit, and wisdom:
often all that stands between
fools and excoriation.
Charity or Wisdom
Listen Up, you grey old goat!
Your racist ways are history.
Does that hate not sere your throat?
That grossly overt bigotry
never fails to offend
younger,
compassionate,
thoughtful men.
But since we’re here within this lodge,
I’ll try to muster up some grace,
abide the precepts of wiser men
and curb my urge to pulp your face.
I’ll maintain regard unconditional
despite your beliefs, so unlovable.
His Master’s Voice?
They must think us dogs
salivating to their bells
doing tricks for tiny treats!
~
And how can they not
when we drool at every cue
playing games they tell us to?
~
Is there any choice?
After all, they hold the cards
and set the rules we must regard.
~
Why must we regard
their arbitrary edicts
when their only care
is their self-serving interests?
Bite the hands that feed, I say!
Ignore their strident bellows!
Exercise our every freedom!
Let us run across the meadows!
A Matins Prayer
Must there be drama
to christen every morning?
Can’t we vow and endeavor
to enjoy a silent dawn?
The Morning After
When cheers subside
And mournful sobbing ceases,
All that remain is more mess.
Civil Disobedience
This Election Day
Exercise uncivil rights.
Go drink his cup of coffee
Then cast your vote for the girl.
Evensong
Shrill
Inarticulate warbles
Muted in passage through walls
And woods.
Anger
Understood by tone
And cadence long before
Any sound clarifies to coherent
Words
Heat
Beat
hasty
Retreat
Words
Pulse
Thrumming temples
Dread descends with every step
Upward to that door
Where home fires burn
Doorknob
Chill beneath palm
Hand lingers
Warming brass
As crass language
And rage harass
His tired dragging ass
Inhalation
Exhalation
Knob turning
Welcome
Home
Procrastinator’s Crucifix
This is but a task
No more onerous than most
And yet we delay
Month after month after month
Crafting vast struggles from naught
On The Borderline Again
His smarmy tongue waggles,
weaving glowing gossamers, clouding hearts and minds
with mists of glittering unreason.
His garbled glossolalia
explains inexplicable,
defends indefensible,
justifies vast injustices.
Before his words, miasmas
of fecund decay shift,
begins to resemble aromas
of lavender and roses.
Venomously,
crass caresses
of slimy snake oil
conceal cuts of serrated steel.
Hope and reason succumbs
to resignation and despair.
Luminous hope drowns struggling
in seas of gilded sludge.
As growing thick dark shrouds
envelop all, he pauses,
draws breath, smiles.
In that instant his spells shatter!
Plug your ears, Ulysses!
There are no second chances.
Chaotic Good
Although we struggle
To exist in harmony
Often the ordered cosmos
Finds a few loose threads to pull
Undue Diligence
It doesn’t mean it’s wise,
Just because I made it through,
To press the limits.
