It is just as disgusting
Watching moral decay
As it is watching a dead dog
Bloating and then exploding
Both spread the petrified airborne
Which we all breath it in until all are dead
Just like a dog

You have to have
A loose moral *****
To do what it is you do
Or perhaps it is another one
A mental ***** has come undone
And now rattles around in your head

So now you decide that you
Actually in fact do like the status quo
Too bad, too late, ‘cause there it goes

And it may never be restored
To meet the beloved status quo
That’s something you should have known

Had you allowed yourself to think on your own

Change your hearts,
The Prophet cried.

Wash your soiled hands
Before the fearsome day
When unrepentant ones
Will become dust and decay,
He pled, before he walked away.

Never let time pass before
You unify and cleanse your heart.

Pain stands at the window.
It looks out on bleakness
Feeling isolated and alone
And trapped in that window.

I take my pain by the hand
I lead it; it does not lead me.
I point out things along the way,
"See, there is still beauty," I say

And I believe.

There are no winners
In this fight.

There is no right.

Empty and devoid of light
all becomes a darkened night.

There are no winners in this fight.

The world-famous singer stepped up to the mic
He started by saying how people the world over
Love his songs.

Then said, "But, they are words that I didn't write."
Someone from the audience gave a shout,
"But you give voice to them."

The singer got quiet for a moment, then answered,
"Ah, yes, that is true, I do sing them.
But do I believe them?"

Perception of power
Is a shadow in a shadow play
A paper tiger with no teeth,
No teeth that might bite
Nor brains to even think

Corner an insane person
And you get a delusion  
Which although is very scary
Has no power to control
Themselves or others

Yet, a rapid dog is dangerous

This world
Our world
Has become
Benighted
Blighted
Lies, lies
Tear us apart
Greed reins
It’s all about
Greed
And lies

Do you feel invaded?
Who really has an enemy within?
Is it not those who have a lack of love
And fill the space with lunacy?

Threats and the power-flex ooze
From the sickly ones who are invaded
With the evil worm because they all
Have become an enemy within.

It is human nature to want what we cannot have
As well as to mourn what we have had but lost.

And there are always those desires that will remain
Encapsulated, walled off in a heart, occupied by one.

That "one" forever, regardless of other lovers that come along
They could never touch that special place.

Therefore, I choose to believe in "my only love."

Let hate become a feather
- Light as air
In the midst of the storm
- Let it fly away
So that if you look for it
You will not find it there
- Let hate become
Light as air and float away

There was but one.
One got under my skin.
One lived and died within,
Yet lives on forever therein.
Gladly, I’ve wrapped him
In my own skin.

Too often paint
Upon my sleeve
Not just parted
But severed
Brutal pain

Gingerly broach
Hairpin curves
To begin again
Then once more
Until all is lost

My emotions
For all to see
In flowers
And hearts
I bleed

With 'stochasticism'

Winnie, a name to grow in.
Winnie, a child, into her teens,
Winnie, the sweet old lady.
Winnie, to wear for all time.

Did her parents know,
On the day she was born?
“What’s the child’s name?”
“Winifred, we’ll call her

Winnie.”

O, the sorrow, within a beating heart
To see a universe within the confines
Of a mouse's house
And how your actions have altered a life.
Indeed, it is a truth:
"The best-laid schemes of mice and men
Go oft awry,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!"
The best laid plans can go awry.

Ae fond kiss, so sweetly
To warring sighs er' his Nancy

To feel his touch, my Gregory
To love so deeply, I sweetly

And know the pain completely
To love and have lost love’s fancy

Like a haunting unrequited love
Love first and fairest, we severed

Had we never met and parted
We'd never been so broken-hearted

Farewell, then forever.

On eight long legs
She sits and waits
Her many eyes anticipate
Feeling for the vibe
Then feeding to survive
She always cleans her plate

That man does not care one iota for humankind!
He has learned to only "pass" as a caring one,
To use the good-hearted to his ends and for his means,
A rigid, inflexible plan to further his crime wave.

When stones began to breathe
And the walls to bleed

Allowing the past to take the lead

Life slid by, falling into tiny slots
Like a machine in a vintage arcade

Allowing the present to take the lead

We become well-defined dots
Like stars in the heavens that never fade

As we allow past and present to meet

Like a photographer fascinated by the world,
Observing people, observing their inner state,
How they interact,

We are looking for social cues,
Desiring to understand cultural meanings,
Translating the world into an image in our minds.

An image that foreshadows the subject matter
Depicts the corners of our minds,
Where we suddenly find uncommon places,

But common ground, as we follow each path.
We begin to see conceptually the connectiveness
Of all things within our universe, yet

A detached pleasure which we experience
In the banality of everyday things,
Not in dictionary definitions, textbook explanations.

In this, we come to know the fabric of life,
And craft a greater existence living within it, if only
In our own tiny corner of space and mind.

My brain echoes with the sound of your silence
Your flowers have yellowed into grey decay
Walk through our door once again, I beg

But the grave is cold and holds your remains
Only my brain holds the echoes of the proof
That you lived a life with me

To each his own, my dears

Some write about their fears
Some right about their tears
Some write in arrears
To each his own, my dears

Just write, no worry about careers

"I gave you my name," he said
"And you took it to the grave."
Many years rolled by in between
As they lived, loved, slept side by side.
After her death, he didn't wait long
To lie by her side, again.
He died from his broken heart.

I have clawed and crawled out of my past
On bloodied hands and knees,
Seeking to find a higher ground
Level beneath my feet.

Having found a piece somewhat less rocky
I was finally able to stand.
So, please, for the love of God,
Stop trying to drag me back again.

I did not ignore it, but dealt with my hurt.
Over the decades, I've done the work
In order to have some peace.
And now at long last, I've found relief.

Stop dragging up what's past.

I stand and watch
The storms over Galveston Bay
Light up the sky like night into day.

Thunderheads billowing overhead,
Roiling in the darkness, punctuated
Only by distant lightning strikes.

For mere seconds with blinding light,
They flash across the sky in the night.
Thunder boomed like a distant war.

Light begins to leak into the atmosphere.
Holes in the clouds appear here and there.
With the rising sun, all turns to quiet.

She was a beautiful and dutiful lass.
She lived in a far different world,
Somewhere in the distant past.
And her lad was brave and chivalrous.

Those days are gone, alas,

As is the lad and lass.
While our time hurtles and twirls
We see life get scarier and more scary
And we become the past,

To someone else's "alas".

Soon,

Winged creatures will fly,
Delicate flowers will begin to die.

But as for you, and the poetic I,
In fallow fields nearby

We will lie

And while-away-the-hours.
On a blanket, lying back

Watching summer's last sighs.
For she must soon say goodbye,

Goodbye and welcome fall.

Handsome Sol, clothed in splendor, appears and thus
Spreads a pink blush across the ****** face of morning.

The day is a fair child chasing across the horizon
Seeking, never catching, as night overtakes it.

All life is born of this.

Do you remember
Our passion, that
Of young love?
Fresh and new
As passion built.
We could not get enough
Of love or of each other.
Fingertips touching,
Mouth on mouth,
Melting our flesh  
Into one body!

I was so inexperienced
You had to be, at times
Both teacher and lover.
And I, on the porch,
You, at ground level,
My tall young man,
So that I could
Get "hello" & "Goodbye"
Kisses on the porch.
Happy to die at last
Love-smothered.

I grew up along the Brazos River
Not far from an old cotton plantation.

By the time I was a child, it was in complete decay
And it left the same in the lives of those
Who had been slaves for generations afterwards.

I remember the first time those descendants
Rode our bus to their raggedy old school,
My generous, childish heart ached for them.
Much later, they'd go to the nice modern one.

I made many new friends on those rides.
I let Cookie brush my hair, as the other girls stared.
She was "high-yellow" or bright, as they would say.
My heart thrills to see them now grown, come into
The beauty of life as it was meant to be lived by all.

Yet, now evil forces seek to undo that.

The words hit like a ton of bricks,
Wedging fragments into the crevices
Of my heart as it hit within the space.

That is what happens when

You
  Pick
   At
    A
    Thread

And you get truths hidden within the lies.

I asked a simple question
One without commentary
I was curious, that is all
Because I am a curious person
And I like to learn

In today's world, it is relevant
"Is this poem AI?"
It is an honest question
Without any judgment
YES NO, circle one.

Yes, go ahead
Remove the label, "pervert"
From many other things
But when it comes
To the abuse of children
Let it reign supreme
NEVER to be removed

Ask yourself:
What will I do when I am seeking political refuge?
When political unrest comes to me and mine?
When you reach safer shores, what faces do you hope to see?
Hard and hate-filled faces, or the softened kind faces of strangers?
Ask yourself honestly, then change your stance, now,
Because it is coming quicker than you think.

A garden is like a book of poetry
Peopled with lovely flower-folk.
O, if they only could walk,
You'd imagine they were dancing
As does a poem in rhythm's meters
Dances along, one-two, one-two
In a sort of singsong.

Evil is born with little effort.
Goodness?
Through the struggle from within.

Evil eats from the inside out.
It tears at its own flesh, consumes 'self'.
Goodness?

It must be nurtured on the decomposed
Death of the evil growth within
Like some parasitic twin.

Goodness can win, must win.

The moon rises, banks left, rises on,
Setting alight with a gentle simmer
Of shimmering silver, the windows
In houses nearby along the watercourse.

Its glowing glint dances on the water
Like the flicker from a silent movie
And it seems to tippy-toe downward
Towards the dark hunter-green sea.

As I sit upon a high, darkened ridge
I am wrapped in and rapt with wonder,
As night folds in around me like a shawl
Casually thrown about my person.

With the dawn, my garment will be bright
As the light of a yellow-orange sun grows.
So glows the watercourse as it moves
To the azure sea.

Fall

I love to wander in the fall, come,
Leaves crunching beneath feet.
An early morn chill hangs in the air.
Earthy smells rise up, mixed with pine,
Filling nostrils and hearts with peace
As we walk towards winter.

- Winter

I love to wander in winter, join me.
Frost crunches under boots
A light freeze gifted a sparkle everywhere
The clean smell is held in the frozen air,
Filling our hearts with a joyful vigor
As we move towards spring.

- Spring

We wander among the greening fields
Trying not to crush sweet wildflowers
Beneath our bare feet on the cool ground.
Soft aromatic blossoms release their scents
Filling our atmosphere with essence
As we move towards the heat of summer.

- Summer

We wander in the early morning
Before the heat begins to suffocate.
As the ground heats up beneath our feet
And we must retreat beneath the trees,
To sip our chilled water and recover
So we can move towards the comfort of fall.

I, rag-doll-like, am
Limber like rubber
Bendy parts

Elastic sinew
Stretches far
Ruptures  

Easy like glass
Breaks
I fall apart

Pain drains
Out of my brain
At times cry

I used to ask
Why, why
Now I know

It’s not so easy in the dark
To find your way
Trembling fingers
Grasping as you go along

In the thickness of black
Sliding your feet slowly helps
The mind fills with shades
Of black and grey

Shocked eyeballs try
To punctuate with sharp light
Yet, still there is nothing
Nothing but the dark void

And you snail-pacing in it

Creatures of darkness,
That psychotic man
And his friend
And the woman
- They shared?
Or women, perhaps,
- I should say.

The four, two couples,
Secrets, dark secrets
Beginning to shine
Through the shroud.
Peel back the mask
Reveal the skeleton,
At last.

Evil showmanship!
Cut the funds, but
Blow up the boat.

And it never quits.
It’s another layer
Of their ****** fit.

But we are mum
Because we’re numb!
Are we so dumb?

Lawlessness is not law.

There once was a king
Who built a big bonfire
Right in the center
Of his kingdom.

"Higher and higher still!"
The silly king shouted.
And it was done!
He made them all jump to.

Proud, he was, to rule
Over everything
As far as his eye could see.
With his bonfire done

He was ready for the fun.
He called for more fuel.
"More, and more!" he shouted.
And it was done!

Now with all eyes on him
He took a match, gave it a strike,
Then threw it on the wood.
O, what a sight to see it so bright!

And the fire raged on
It began licking at homes,
Buildings, and even people!
It became a conflagration.

"It started before we knew it.
What was happening to us?"
Everyone began saying, shocked.
And yet the signs were all there.

Too much wood on the pile,
Too much fuel for the fire,
And an out-of-control ego
Who lost all control!

In the end, it all burned down.
And the moral of the story is:
When rulers burn the kingdom down
The king will rule over nothing but

Ashes.

When you were still
Wiping your nose on your sleeve
And were convinced that birds
Were feathery things with wings
And love was a distant animal
That stalked much older lads,
About which you were glad,
You played in fields, buck wild
And grew in strength and might
Until she came into your sight.
The prettiest bird among all
And you couldn’t help but fall.
The distant animal had come
Stalking you at last.
And you were quite glad,
My lad.

That calcified heart

Within your chest
Will never have rest,
It will remain alone.

It will remain stone
As long as you deny,
As long as you lie.

Until you stand up for your part.

She kept her freak hidden
Well out of sight
In the back of her closet
And only let it out at night
To crawl up on her bed
And climb into her head
Then it would
See through her eyes

When down, and
Disappointed
With the world,

Remember

The scarecrow
Had a heart
All along.

There was indeed
A heart within
The straw.

(I know it was the Tin Man.)

I am obsessed with the strange, chaotic, and beautiful world
With its life, which we cobble together out of the madness

Another week has come and gone
And as life moves on and on

We become the fabric with which to wrap around
The loved, those we have loved, and those who loved us

And those we will eventually love
Another one has come and gone

And life moves on and on

Through waves that crash upon our shores
And tides that churn and turn, tossed about
With each swell to rise anew, as each returns.
In the depths we sink, or we begin to swim,

Then, suddenly find that on the shore we stand.

Though battered, torn, and scarred are we,
Injuries serve to remind us of the churning tide of life.
Each is a reminder of where we are and have been
And that in the midst of such turmoil, we swam.