Pick up that sad and ancient game;
select your poison: wealth or fame.
Thinking that we’re all the same
can make it hard to shift the blame.
No bird can fly with one wing lame;
old toothless tigers can be tamed,
but still may seek to wound or maim,
or anyway, that’s what they claim.
Look past the edges of the frame,Leave a Comment
beyond your dying bonfire’s flame -
for in the end, the things you name
are powerless to share your shame.
19 APR 2025
The road is long and runs for miles
between two fields on either side:
one, sown with soybeans in long files,
the other, fallow, flat, and wide.
Each season, nature must decide
which one will yield the greater crop;
while neither seeks to be on top
it’s still a competition:
year after year, it never stops.
Such is this life’s condition.
In houses, breaking up the wild,
a battle likewise coincides:
between a parent and their child,
the old ways and the new collide.
Somewhere between desire and pride,
in discount stores and online shops
the world of criminals and cops
leads all to some perdition:
year after year, it never stops.
Such is this life’s condition.
In some gray building, facts are filed:
loans pre-approved, requests denied,
and reputations are defiled
to shore up this or that divide.
Morality’s a slippery slide,
religion just a mop.
You’re one chair short; the music stops
and weakens your position.
Year after year, it never stops;
such is this life’s condition.
You work for years until you drop,
as fodder for the ones on top
who just want your submission.
Year after year, it never stops.
Such is this life’s condition.
17 APR 2025
Leave a CommentIf you would change the world, you must
believe it can be done, of course,
and with your entire being, trust
that it needs changing. Do not force
your will upon a stubborn horse;
instead, with gentle words and grace
seek out resistance at its source:
for each small thing, a time and place.
The stoutest iron succumbs to rust;
you need not hurry, lest remorse
turn all your courage into dust
as you expound until you’re hoarse.
If all your words are harsh and coarse
you will not find a friendly face,
and will have wasted vital force:
for each small thing, a time and place.
Press on, of course, but only just
enough to prove what you endorse
when mixed with reason, will combust
into a fire of such resource
that naught can stand against its force;
With such a flame, you can erase
some wrong, and good things reinforce:
for each small thing, a time and place.
And in the end, your small light’s source
will serve as a more solid base
if slowly, as you plot your course,
for each small thing, a time and place.
16 APR 2025
Leave a CommentThe world’s a mess, some folks will say –
at least, it often seems that way,
the lines are blurred and hard to see
sometimes, and we may disagree
on what we should and ought to do,
what’s plainly false, and mostly true.
Oh, let us chart the proper course;
First put the cart behind the horse.
The world’s a wonder, others state,
it’s our own fault, we can’t blame fate
for what effect comes from our cause;
we choose the fools who make our laws,
and have no right to kvetch and whine,
you on your side, and me on mine.
Oh, let us divvy up the blame,
and likewise share some of the shame.
The world’s is magic, true enough,
beneath the petty surface stuff
that helps us want to disengage
from wonder, and rely on rage
to fight each other without end
and win – at least we can pretend.
Oh, dance the dance until we die;
that’s all there is unless we try.
The world’s a mess! That may be so,
but life goes on, and even though
we seem to love to fume and fuss
there is still hope for all of us.
Pick up your broom, right here and now,
and clean what you can reach, somehow.
Oh, to begin you need to start;
and each must try to do their part.
16 APR 2025
Leave a CommentBeyond those twisted, sneering smiles
there must be miles of higher ground;
why can’t we rise above the slime,
insist upon a change of venue?
Why, with this crop of sour limes
must we add sugar to the drink?
Refuse the Kool-Aid; it is poison.
Once you drink it, it’s all over.
15 APR 2025
Behold the dragon come alive:
not breathing fire, but spewing jive
and nonsense from its rubber lips,
and poison from its finger tips!
It cannot speak except to squawk,
and is too pendulous to walk,
except some strutting to and fro
in front of mirrors it loves so.
Its cave is strewn with blood and guts
from enemies who think it nuts
and dared to speak against its rule
or worse, declared it just a fool
a puppet slung on rotted strings,
who dances while its master sings
and fiddles while the free world burns
to ashes those who never learn.
Enough! This beast will eat us whole;
It has no heart, or mind, or soul,
but lives to ravage, burn, and loot,
and tear the world up, by the root.
How can we slay this fearsome beast,
or lock it in a cage, at least?
There is one way, one way alone:
chip at the mirrors on its throne,
and don’t repeat its callous cries.
Ignore it, and this foul thing dies!
Without its ego, it deflates
and will slide through the sewer grate.
14 APR 2025
Leave a CommentThere really isn’t anything fantastic
in how the world is currently eroding;
it’s not a sudden, haunting nightmare
that cropped up silent out of nowhere.
The dream is over; everyone awakens
and cries out, “What is happening, America?”
but doesn’t want the blame for sleeping
nor think they are the cause for crying.
14 APR 2025
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