if only peace could be magicked

When I think of my children going into the world, I find myself championing humanity. I pray we never cease believing this: we are so much stronger than these acts of violence that steal innocent life and try to rip away our collective compassion for one another

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thieves of humanity

Many years of life
How tall our shadows
How lifted our minds
Rising above their tiny shoulders
we watch over them
until the day their eyes meet ours
We savor surrealist skies for beauty’s sake
relishing in the sun-fire ebb and flow
But when fires of chaos burn their bodies
beauty dies in a charred hole
and there is only repulsiveness
Violence bears down
pressing away their childhood
squeezing out the right to a life filled with sunsets
Humanity is a selfless compulsion
its depth fills the soul, the heart, the mind, the spirit
For some, this form reduces into flat, discolored rage
These people are not the of keepers of innocence
These humans are the thieves of humanity

Every child is a musical instrument
take just one away and the harmony weakens

anthropomorphic animals

four legs four legs on the ground
untainted smooth
inertia bound

there it hides
its hiding there
safe from them
there is nowhere
go stop run
run stop go
from flesh, that flesh
that’s white as snow

must cut away her utility…

when it goes
where it stops
gets trampled underfoot
route unnamed
smudged by earth
man’s untimely soot

must appreciate his underbelly…

polluted vagaries
nest, pack, herd,
colony, turmoil
gaggled words
shrewdness,
heard
the silent sound
tribe, cackle, richness
boom band bound

must reexamine my duel motives…

pride and mob, school and pod
pride and school emergent mob
efforting while in sexual season
sucking up to tainted treason

dissonance parleys the uninformed
murdered the goddamn unicorns
call and alarm all shadows here
their fur hides hide our naked fear
no more, no more, I beg no more
uncork the apple from the boar
knocking, crippling, maturing hell
alarm a shadow, crack the bell

oh, Theodor please help me…

up it stands
on his hands
she be down
on the ground
all replete
on 2 feet
no longer
balking
they are walking
no more
walking
they are talking
walking
talking
when it goes
where it stops
no one knows
oh, but I do

polluted hearts
dirty forms
chatting animals
form the norm

it is never too late, darling…

four legs four legs on the ground
only two now make a sound
earth burnt souls melt in the fold
low bones whisper words foretold…

Interred/change
I couldn’t admit how I adored you
my dead heart must now implore you
so simple back then, my oh my
my Theodor’s eyes in absentia cry
skull-homageI generally don’t attempt rhyme but something grabbed hold of me this morning (perhaps a sprite from last night😉), Animal Farm on the brain while reading youngster Rimbaud’s pain (I admit sadly for the first time)…

leave it to a cartoon pig

trying to get at something
I can’t quite reach from the ground
there is no sleeping in slumber
no resting for the restless
hurriedly living to stamp personal honors on crowded individuality
some methodically hiding to avoid the same
embracing or effacing, the certain weightlessness of our heavy conclusion
this finite fact of our infinite fiction
depending on where the cord has been cut
a lifeline, a noose, a kite string
we enter
we exit

“…that’s all folks”
(leave it to a cartoon pig to shame us into reality)

Peppermint Pigs

Peppermint Pigs

 

my silly secret

like a blazing stogie dangling from determined lips
all other luminous pricks lured away by post-holiday sales
my eyes navigate the smudged thermal pane
a lone gleaming star outside the milky glass
I must get closer
I’ve got no answers for anyone this year
and more questions for myself with less time to respond
the kitchen slider is an obstinate fucking portal
I remember falling on scabby knees
praying beneath the Northern Star
for wisdom and ‘wiseness’
crying for everything I couldn’t find
and God knows I still look for
the star
storybook glitter brilliant enough to sustain my disbelief another year
pulling at the door handle, dropping f-bombs with each yank to the right
gotta fix the damn slider in 2017
I must get closer
to this sparkling beacon of Christmas birth and glowing yuletide renewal
this year, this year it’s more important than ever
shit, you know I declared the same thing last year
shivering in the dark, I’m standing on my splintered deck
finally nearer to the star
I whisper to her pointing ears, ‘guide us somewhere safe’
we must believe in something more than ourselves
or we will implode upon our self righteousness
I’d pat myself on the back too, if I didn’t hurt my shoulder opening the fucking slider
the pulsing star
limitless hymns composed for her singular brilliance
orbiting existential principles
liquid onyx landscapes and oceanic skies
I lift my watery eyes
my lips smiling with their silly secret
this isn’t the prominent Christmas Star shining brightly 19 degrees above the horizon
it is Venus
she’s the one who lured me to heavenly hopes all those years ago
when I was a child and didn’t know which way was North

wood nymph

 

for all the other days

we keep these days
certain ones only
to honor, remember, appreciate
ultimate sacrifices made
for the belief in something profound
something greater than ourselves
unity in freedom
power of choice
pride in open mikes
and a stage
whenever we want to sing
regardless of the song
here
in this place
I am
respectful of loss
contemplative now
for morose memories that stick
in the minds and hearts
of those who went
of those who go
regardless of the political scale
weighing this place heavy
when stripped down
to sweating flesh
panicked beating hearts
rattling the bones beneath
they still moved
they still move
where they felt they had to go
where they are instructed to be
knowing
their journey
wouldn’t always come
won’t be
full circle
this is the essence
of this day
these days
remembering individuals
people
like you and me
giving away the only thing they had
have
regardless of your thoughts or mine
remember theirs
not just today
not just here

for all the other days
beyond
let us practice honoring
peace
civility
so we don’t have to honor
any more dead

Lone Soldier

Lone Soldier

 

 

this holiday let monsters be of fantasy only

crouching behind windshields
squatting behind screens
societal svengalis lurk
unruly wild things pacing clear enclosures
bitter birds choosing not to fly
limitations evaporate
when powered on by false gods
emotional anchors become
looming weights of entitlement
hands grip wheels
steering by fabricated courage

verbal appetites satiated by barbs
served beneath craving fingertips

manipulation expands
a
cracked sea sponge tossed into a violent whirlpool
bytes of malice more sour than sun-baked wine
flow over rims of digital goblets
what happens to some
what happens to us

communicating without the skin of our souls
the flesh of our humility
the forbearance of our hearts
what will become of us
when traveling forward
without
the divinity of pure movement
and humble earth beneath our feet

as this holiday season fast approaches
may we remember
humanity dwells inside
each and every one of us
let monsters be made of fantasy only

Holidragon

Holidragon

inspired this weekend while returning my daughter to college-many crazed people driving the highways-
many crazed drivers on cell phones rushing to cybershop