Poetry, including verse and song lyrics.
What else can I say?
The world is what we make it,
or maybe it’s not.
The little splashes we make
barely change the water’s calm.
What else can we do?
From nothing, everything comes
and then it is gone.
How we choose to measure time
makes little difference to it.
What else could there be?
Nothing exists forever;
and how would we know?
We see just the horizon;
life doesn’t stop at our eye.
30 Apr 2025
The time will surely come, they say,
when rightness splits apart from might,
and we will celebrate that day
with festivals to truth and light,
as all the evils we now face
are dissipated like the dew
when sunshine glows around the place
and pierces all the shadows through.
Imagine that! What songs we’ll sing,
what joy our revolution brings!
Come, sip of freedom’s lemonade,
and talk of love and other things.
What progress we have made.
The sculptures wrought from pure, fine clay
commemorating our brave fight
will stand forever and a day
to prove our way was true and right,
while poets loll about the place
extolling how the angels knew
our cause would always win the race
and validate our point of view.
Imagine that! We toppled kings,
and on the strength of eagle’s wings
brought peace and justice to the glade;
so now, we pull the strings.
What progress we have made!
Look! Those emerging from the fray,
who gave their all to win the fight
and through the clash of battle’s play
continued on and on, despite
not knowing just whose tails they chased,
or who they’d be when it was through,
who kept up their relentless place:
they did just what we asked them to.
Imagine that! They gave their spring
for this great autumn. Let us sing
our praises for the price they paid
to win us everything.
What progress we have made!
Let peal the bells! Let freedom ring!
The pendulum is ours to swing;
we end the pointless mad charade
and will change everything.
What progress we have made.
30 Apr 2025
Leave a CommentI am not just my name and sign,
I am not just my sex,
I am not who I voted for,
I am not where I’m from,
I am not just the work I do,
I am not just a son,
I am not from a somewhere else,
I am not just like you,
I am not where I went to school,
I am not what you taught me,
I am not playing on your team,
I am not your opponent,
I am not a mind or body suit,
I am not here forever,
I am not my integrity,
I am not my backstory,
I am not who I seem to you,
I am not a somebody,
I am not a celebrity,
I am not educated,
I am not old and wise and gray,
I am not mid-way through it,
I am not a child prodigy,
I am not a late bloomer,
I am not something that you’ve heard,
I am not just my language,
I am not some well-hidden lamp,
I am not a state secret,
I am not female, am not male,
I am not someone’s father,
I am not better off than you,
I am not part of something,
I am not one of your old friends,
I am not a religion,
I am not what you label me,
I am not through with living.
Who claims to know me, as I am?
Who thinks their claims control me?
Who else pretends to give a damn?
Who wants their cage to hold me?
What does the world want me to be?
Who out there claims to get me?
What good do all these labels do,
When I am neti, neti?
29 APR 2025
Leave a CommentWhat good to write when so few have the time
to do much more than nod and swipe me gone?
Opinions vary, but to ramble on
without an audience seems too sublime.
Besides, what difference can a few short lines
make when the world needs changing, not anon,
but here and now, before the chance is gone?
The line between much good, and none, is fine.
What matter does it make, ten thousand friends,
when only two or three may even try
to navigate through streams of postured talk
that lives for but a moment, then it ends,
before it has a chance to qualify
as something just more useful than a rock?
You read me? I’m in shock.
It does me good to think of you out there,
afloat in that great ether realm, somewhere;
I write on, since you care.
Together, let us seek some peace of mind;
there is no limit to what we can find.
28 APR 2025
Leave a CommentNot soft and still, or squawking,
but breaking silence, seeking
to stand tall without slouching:
the time has come for speaking.
The truth must pierce the lying,
and loose the light, dispelling
the darkness that is growing.
These words need more than telling.
For night brings stormy weather.
The time is now or never;
to counter these foul measures,
we must be wise, and clever.
We must resist the hating,
else what hell we’re defeating
makes us the dark we’re fighting.
These words need much repeating.
Be bright and shining beacons:
the time has come for being
not just bravado boasting,
but light useful for seeing.
28 APR 2025