Life speaks to us in patterns Existentialists might agree The events becoming mirrors Allowing us to see Things we call as hang-ups Or blocks that hold us back keep us from accomplishing. . . Or throwing us off track Last night, no exception My sensibilities molested...
My brothers, sisters, cousins Practice their belief In a bifurcated Reality Of which I've found relief They were sold a bill of goods In which I had a part Way back in the eighties I Was a Christian, in the dark 11/26/16
In this period of apostasy The reasons mount as many One that’s chief among them Rhetoric, discarded, as a penny Truthfulness is a laser beam With no static there attached That emanates from Spirit The world without its match Politicians drone their well-worn song...
The mask attack is active At ‘American’ it’s true*1 An airline with a standing Telling us what to do If, in fact refusal Of a mandate, not a law No travel in the future “We expect it of ya’all In the meantime, just sit back And cover, most your face Make-up the eyes...
[A poem of projection, for someone I was in close proximity to, but never really knew]] Accept me as I am From a heart that’s sometimes lost The conditions you resent from me Come with a personal cost. If I could change myself, I’d do it But my habits have me caught...