without concepts,
by ears stripped of fear.
in sacred nakedness,
rhyming,
the rhythm of breath…
footsteps to stillness,
and a silence,
that has no identity,
that is not owned,
that cannot be captured,
or held…
that just ‘is’!
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the people who were killed
in the Nazi death camps,in Vietnam, in Iraq, in Afghanistan….on 9/11….were all people,many with families, all with dreamsof living and loving….it is both tragic and sadhow they died, and that they died….it is also a sad truththat all the killing in the worldwont bring them back,and will never redeem what happened….
i am sick of your justice…
sick of your bursts of gunfire,and your bombs without conscience.sick of the napalm fingers of your equality,trading flesh for nickels and dime.sick of your powder and your pills,sick of the rape of the young girlbeneath your flag!i am sick of your nuclear bibles,sick of your buying and trading.i am sick of the pound of your…
i’d rather be a leaf torn
a snail, a moth, the spider’s web.the old man passing out blanketsat the homeless shelter…the mother nursing the child,refugees of war.the old dog curled againstthe old man’s leg…the cigarette shared after making love.a trash collector, a cashier in an all night store,an immigrant picking fruitwith eyes in the back of his head….the soldier who deserted,and…
morals and convictions
turn to hard hungry action,feeding mouths with faces!the man whipped hardby profit’s demands,turns on the oppressor,with nothing to lose!the word justice ne’er spoken,the anger of the poor,turns men into wolves,that will be fed!the price of survival narrowed,to the sudden swift move,so long in coming…the storm without name!
the same fingers
lace the shoe…play the piano,dig in the dirt.stroke your face,turn the lock.wear the ring,unbutton your desires.pick up the pen,light the smoke…trace the hungerof the hidden one!
Have Mercy!
i walk these streets,past vacant buildings hallowed.in silent mourning,my heartbeat joining,the concrete scarred by living.passing strangers hurrying,as if they had a life to return to.while the shouts and cursing of working men,rings inside the empty walls!past tenemant buildings,and unemployed stoops,and eyes staring from windows.dogs too hungry to bark,squad cars passing slow,tis the funeral of poverty.while…