What is a man, what is a woman…
solved by the stroke of a pen
The genders now mix, the game has been fixed
—playing fields only pretend
(The New Room: January, 2021)
What is a man, what is a woman…
solved by the stroke of a pen
The genders now mix, the game has been fixed
—playing fields only pretend
(The New Room: January, 2021)
I’m actually tired of being myself…
can I be you for awhile
I hide from the mirror and monogrammed lies,
as I run from an image defiled
I thought I was safe and had made my escape,
when memory reminded again
“You can run, you can hide, your indenture unkeyed
—the chains locked secure in your head”
(The New Room: January, 2021)
The dead never get to say goodbye,
as they charge across the line
Finality left to those who live,
still victimized by time
The dead never get to say hello,
a bust that’s now recast
Their sacrifice a milepost
—beyond the futurepast
(Valley Forge: January, 2021)
What purpose Poetry,
if not to transcend
The mundane, the broken,
those roads with no end
With every feeling
new words are reborn
To speak to Creation
—and live readorned
(The New Room: January, 2021)
Where do you go
when your war has been won
The enemy vanquished,
the legion’s undone
What do you do
when your purpose is gone
The feelings still burning,
the will to fight strong
Where do you go,
the last battle adjourned
The fields lined in blood,
all caissons returned
As men march in unison,
their rifles unbreeched
A lone bugle calling
—the dead beyond reach
(The New Room: January, 2021)
The Pharisees vengeance,
unleashing again
To kill a ‘false’ prophet,
their fear redescends
The cross is made ready,
like ages before
The nails though still rusty,
hammer deep and secure
Their memories short sighted,
rejecting the fact
The last one they crucified…
alive and intact
A new Resurrection
they’re about to ensure
Through hatred and envy
—damnation procured
(For Sister Marcella: January, 2021)
The pinnacle of abuse
is preying on your own
Jackal, politician,
mercenary, or priest
Their cloak of deception
hiding unspoken lies
Approaching your doorstep
—in the guise of a friend
(The New Room: January, 2021)
We serve the moment,
bespeaks the Lord
To live eternal
—in time untoward
(The Book Of Prayers: January, 2021)
While safe in my corner,
so sure of myself
I criticized everything,
what’s thought and what’s felt
Secure in the fantasy,
my back to the wall
Returns to diminish
—the big to the small
(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)
I gave my heart to someone in the rain,
the clouds exploding, witness to my vows
The water carrying away each fervent wish
—to stream in happy aqueducts of love
(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)