tiny deaths
poured into
the vase
that stands
on the table
by the window….
by the bed
in the room
that only
our most
powerful longings
can enter….
the address
known only
by love.
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i came from a generation
work, daylight to dawn,for everything we had.we grew our own food, wecut firewood, we workedwith our hands.we were taught to work…we built houses, bridges,paved roads… worked onfarms, worked in sawmills,worked in factories…whatever it took for foodand shelter…and if a neighbor got hurt,or sick, and couldnt work…we helped him and his familytill he could.those of us…
stop funding the greed!
failure to pay taxes,mistresses, deals donebehind closed doors,votes bought and sold…lies upon lies upon lies.you have to be wealthy to lead?you cant stand on your own works,you have to stab someone elsein the back?none of you have a clue…what real life is like!when a system becomes this corrupt,you have to take it down to the…
God died yesterday,
without a word or a thought.nary a mentionon the six o’clock news.and the only faith that remainslies in mouth and stomach…for those well fed,and the many who starve.the temple of the dollarfell in on the crowd…the prophets of dignityburned in the flame.yes, all that remains,mouth and stomach…and the earth regurgitatesat the foul stench of greed!
the guilty and the innocents
never knowing names,sometimes reading faces,often not!and that which is donein the name of glory,by the light of greed,is justified in the ‘holy courts’where lives are bought and soldby the takers…is there a God?in Whose name the murderinghand moves swiftly…the price of blood, the wailing beatof hearts without identity.the march of those that conquerand devour without…
must true love
who drives the nails?who stands at the footof the cross and weeps?who carried the cross?who conducted the trial?and who are the faceless oneswho stand and jeer?who judges life worth giving,and how much does love demand?will love forgive?does love have a name?who’ll bury the body?who’ll guard the tomb?and on the third day,who’ll roll away the stone?our…
i have cast my stones
of infinite longing,now i wait…for sound, for evidence,that there is a groundin my heart!
unnamed ashes that smolder.
blades of grass never speaking,
small stones half buried.
dust on the windowpane,
raindrops that fall
and then rise…
straw gathered for the nest,
the silence of the eggs.
the tongue, and the ear,
the moment that does not pass.
the lid on the box,
the nails shaped like prayers.,
nothing, everything…
candles never lit!
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i am….
in the electric hot night.i am the horn of the bull,on the streets of Madrid.i am the bofy naked,glistening with sweat.i am tongue and phallus,teeth and desire’s pant!i am the river surgingthrough mountains and valleys.i am the house on fire,the wail of sirens.i am the caw of the crow,the screech of the owl.i am the…
I dreamt of strawberry-rhubarb pie,
long slow tender sensual sex,lips hungry for mine.The sound of rain in the night,wrapping the earth in stillness.walking in the frozen sunrisewith my old dog by my side.Climbing Hawksbill on a spring day,looking down over the gorge in awe.barefoot, planting a garden,believing in the sun and the rain.Playing an old Gibson on the porch,deep rich…
i feel very fortunate to be able
and feelingsi also feel a responsibility to writethe truth, not only my truth, but thetruth of all those around meand so i paint these pictures of life,some quite beautiful, some harsh anddistressingwe, as a people, and as individualsare the human race. and what makesit work is the word wewe are a part of each other,…
dont talk to me of skin color,
in fact, she runs with the wolves,clothed in fur and claws and teeth!sometimes she is the moonlight,lighting their path,other times the wind,carrying their howls back to herself!dont talk to me of skin color,talk of blood! red, pulsing blood…flesh and sweat and desirewrapped in human spirit!
the hands of a small child,
the flutter of wings,a sparrow’s first flight.seeds planted by handin the fresh plowed ground.the light teasing shadows,late afternoon to night.the war hero’s silence,his eyes grown hard.the family burying the child,the mother cannot weep.the hungry stareof poverty’s stink.the addict’s hard edge,bare rooms, bare walls.the hanging tree,and the lovers oak.the bullet in the chamber,and the open mission.the…
Nigerian waters defiled
of human greed….WHEN WILL WE LEARN?earth is our home!