I am not The Owner. I am not The Cook. I am not The Menu. I am just the waiter, serving you all. I am not The Light. I am not The Dark. I am not The Rainbow. I am just the
“But the things that proceed out of the mouth come from the heart, and those defile the man. For out of the heart come evil thoughts…” #NeverBirther. #NeverSexualPredator. #NeverMisogynist. #NeverRacist. #NeverHomophobe. #NeverIslamophobe. #NeverBullying. #NeverGaslighting. #NeverNativist. #NeverDemagogue. #NeverAuthoritarian. #AlwaysLiberal.
Every word is brokenhearted, As the style book is in mourning All the crafted prose now yields To random, blithering, noise. Every byline now is grieving, in honor of your passing, And so the words fell down, feeling no one’s
For us, you solved the puzzle of life, which you composed as collage: of beauty, of music, of compassion, of laughter, of friendship, of love. The palette of choice was All your gardens, All your songs, All your art, All your Spirit, which
Unexpected to my life came our time where numbers in the canon of love of the people I knew far surpassed those of the people I know. Beyond the grace of melancholy, I am still possessed by my personal union with the former
So last night I told him. Last night I opened up. Last night I let him know the real deal between us. Finally. Last night I said it right to him: “There’s no real competition here.” Last night he indeed
Wanted: White-Styled Privilege To Alleviate Effects of New Jim Crow. Please Forward to: Nearly Two Million, Currently Subjugated And Awaiting Justice And Civil Rights And Restitution Alongside Several Lost Generations. So Many Broken Lives Can No Longer Wait for the
To Every Thing There is a Season. Surely Carolina Parakeet, Yours was too short and too colorful. In wisdom were you made communal, The earth made full with your divinity: Separated in hats of divine extinction Forever. All Creatures Great
Tragedy with Evil Growing Stronger, Will Good Rescue a World Once Defended? A person my age may live much longer, Beyond times for which they were intended.
My Essence Indomitable, My Inspirations Invaluable, My Motives Unassailable, My Potential Incalculable, My Growth Unstoppable, My Hopes Sustainable, My Achievements Certifiable, My Future Attainable, My Education Irreplaceable!
The one-eye Collie and the Manic Bird Dog, too, too excited passing Pasture Gate. Still cluttered with last year’s milkweeds. Too, too many box elders are taking root. Broken Dormer on the old well in the weeds, threatening, as remembered, to take
You are always in the game, wherever I’ve played it. Forty cards in the deck, With a nickel always at risk, And your special “Oomph!” And swish of the wrist, Sending the taking three or ace to the table…are always,
Tears Idle, tears… “Yes you DO know what they mean” said the teacher, and I was so self-impressed. “But I wonder to the degree … of dying eyes” said the blind man, my teacher, my guide. So I knew, I’d
While concocting each new poem each day The poet knew he’d be battling ’til May: The urge to keep fighting ‘Gainst writing ‘Bout writing Til he weakened: giving one muse its say.
When I found you your star, Alphecca to the Arabs, but Gemma, always from then to you and me, The Alpha Diamond of Corona, shining in the Crown of the North on those summer evenings. The back patio. To smell
Back in the day, Before Mere Opinions Became Facts, Before Free Markets Enslaved Children, Before More Packaging Brought Less Product, Before a Slice of Cheese needed a Fossil Wrapper, Before Garbage, Became Exportable, Before Land Became Disposable, Before Extinctions Were
Not the final days, We’ll Talk About That Later, As I approach that age. But there was a time, yes, before mine, Where by your stories, You proved the world existed, long before I had my consciences. And it could
If you can just get out of your body, You’ll discover you know how to fly. Swoop past your personal biography, Find a way to where the Time Goes By. When stars do glow, let Novae light the way, To the
My thoughts get on the page quickly, needing freedom to get to their new home inside your mind
The Armada returns in failure… Each a zeppelin in flames My Army of Dreams: Every hope and all the schemes of a lifetime, this lifetime, my lifetime, now crashing everywhere at once Legs refuse to stand, on the field of pyres.
Your trombone wants to KILL the blues. Doesn’t it? I mean the Baby Boomer Blues. The All-I-wanna-hear-me is-funk’n-Blues. Forget what it ain’t, let’s explain what is. Total Sonic Immersion. But Christ, if writing it could say it, why would you use music?
Those are my boys, Humphrey & Sydney & Peter & Claude & Me. Quoters & Knowers & Watchers & Readers… …and Boozehounds. All of us Warner Brothers. With formative years: On Top of The World! Didn’t every guy used to be
And as Jove’s Sceptre swept me from his throne. Most heard within – the rise of hubris moan. Yes, Did I fall through years. (The Dome! Kersplash!) Hear All! The Alph runs grey with Human Ash. Mortal. Alone. My Nimbus fades from