for every bushel of corn,
another child starves.
for every bullet fired,
another mother weeps.
for every coming of dawn,
another face is forgotten.
for every hand extended,
another door closed.
for every prayer prayed,
a homeless family waits.
for every flower that opens…
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build a fire….
stomp your feet,trying to get warm….hard wind from offthe mountains…..sunlight opens the day.and all that was yesterday,all the dirt and grime,all the bruises and words fallen,the shadows of mistakes…..are gone!another day….good fire, the company of friends….another chance to fly!
for my many imperfections
i ask your forgiveness.anyone that has harmed me inany way, on purpose or by chance,i forgive.a great way to start!
the old woman
food stamp traileron the corner…withthirteencats…died two weeksago.they found her today;and animal controlcameforthecats.the county camefor her…there wasnoonetocall.a few linesin the paper…nopicture.cremation,for all involved!
with every breath i take,
the lone figure skating on iceinside the glass globe,falls and cries, for a moment real!the sun has left for unknown parts,and the storm clouds have no conscience.the doe hit by the car,quivers in the ditch,in a bed of empty beer cans,and shattered headlights.the faint dampness on your lips,taunts the half light with tortured madness.i speak…
if the cost of loving
then may death tasteof your lips…wrap around melike your arms;cover me with your body,ride with me the wind,plunging ino wetness…with the last fire,and the first dawning!
the gun you’re pointing
it’s your fear….of the risk ofgiving more than theground that you stand on….fear of the angry stormsof your need facingthe limits of your desire…of the smallness of your soulin the unexplored night…your hunger shrinkinginto the shell of a snail…the loss of your identity,your shaking hand….the gun you’re pointing,the suicide of your being,drugged by the rageyou…