of humanity…
who know the tears,
and name the sorrows
that only darkness holds…
who nurse at the breasts
of the woman branded…
who wash her hands and feet
as she lays dying….
who hold the orphaned children
close… taking their sickness….
who pray with the murderers,
who share with the thieves.
who walk with the crippled,
and hold the shaking addict….
we are by them blessed….
to know them, and to care!
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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…
standing in line
second hand coats,and worn out shoes.the hands thatbuilt your houses,paved your roads,worked your steel mills…harvested your crops,worked on your cars,built your cities and towns,your stores and your churches.tremble with the cold,hold the steaming cuplike a prayer…wipe the corners of vacant eyes!
how can we profess to follow any sacred
it’s like peeing in your bed!even my dogs when they were puppies,knew better!
i came to America on a slave ship,
and the earth i plowed gave up the bones,of the ones they’d killed to make their home.i hung from their trees in the moonlight,as they drank with chests that swelled.i signed the Emancipation Proclamation,with the blood of the Civil War…and when each had finished their task,mine had just begun.i felt the bomb at Hiroshima,and became…
she’s a needle,
a loaded.45!a tornado rippingthrough a trailer park.arsenic and bourbon,cancer and skydiving….she’s a dark jungle,fire, and quake!she’s a black ponyon the blackest of nights;the sword, and the flesh….the ditch, and the bones.she’s a burning cross,and the last door knock….and he’d walk through hell,just to stand by her side!
i started a revolution today,
ants lined up in full gear,trees refused to shed their leaves.smoke swallowed the chimney,and cats laid down with squirrels.and every ray of sunlight,praised the coming night.small children read to old people,and bricks swayed to the beating heart.tiny things became heroes,and simple things became gods.gentle words held road signs,hobos shared their bowls of stew…rain buried gifts…
The Elders…
On the muted cries
Of the children.
On the screams of the women,
Raped, and butchered.
On the hides of the buffalo,
The wings of the crows…
Cannot speak, but for grieving.
Cannot pray, but for blood.
Cannot breathe, but for the wind…
Calling, for redemption!
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there is a place,
there is a heart,there is a prayer.there is a tear,and arms that rhyme.there is a daywhen somebody cares.there is something deeper,we dont understand.that dares to touch,and breaks the shell.there is something more,than castles built of sand.that you cant take,cant buy or sell.the strangers touch,in the rose that blooms.in the child that’s crying,the man near death.tis…
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dont lie,even crackedwith time.dont make excuses,nor try to please,the truth’s the truth.deemed good or bad,a human collage,light and darkness,right and wrong.the hidden thoughtsdeny the right to judge,and bring us back….to the mirrors!
the painter’s wheel turns,
all too oft mistaken for thunder.the human heart hashidden chambers, andpassageways not discovered…the smell of hope? orburning limbs… clearingthe way for autumn.the heart is at autumn too;one last flash of color,and then a time of rest…what we seek foris never further thanthe tip of trembling tongues,and the button undone….the cadence of earth evolving,both within and…
we burn our polaroid loves,
every shadow, every line,on the face borne by a name.in paint peeled chairs by dirty windows,clutching our knees,and wringing our hearts.in the still moment,time’s collector hesitates!and the longing of the hips,weeps down curtains stained.when god and death take second place,to the remembered scent of intimate touch.are we ever anything more?then the kiss in the moonlight,and…
in the long run
spending between 3.2and 4 trillion dollarsin our wars in Iraq,Afghanistan, and Pakistan.not to mention the 100 milliona day we were spending in Libya.the elite ghouls of the War machinepad their pockets … while our soldiersfight and die.we’ve maxed out the debt ceiling,they’re gonna cut social security,medicare, and other programsfor the poor, the sick, and theelderly.we…
i used to meditate
down on the basementof the old houseon Bethel Rdthat we rented years ago…there was a rabbitthat sometimes hoppedthrough the open basement doorto sit close to me…and listened as i chanted.i almost found it then!years have passed,times of struggle and loss…(i almost lost my way)now i sit here at nightthinking about the precepts,reading poetry, just thinking….or…