She smiles with eyes as dead as stone
And hates the work she does so very well,
And the ungrateful mob she does for.

She speaks in friendly, helpful tones
To mask the scream that dances just below her throat
And searches for the moment of escape into the din

She’s always there, as sure as there’s a sunrise.
Though her spirit sails on distant, foreign seas
Her feet are sunk in work-day sludge that traps her here.

Though she longs for clean and simple
Her duties bury her in convoluted mire.
She’s given up trying to scrub it all away.

A million little stabs have wounded her
Beyond the hope of graceful ending
To a life pulled down by circumstance and pain.

With no hope of stars in azure skies at dawning
The light that once shown from her eyes fades out
And her smile becomes an exercise in muscle stretching.

She does what she’s expected to with weariness
That goes beyond arthritic joints and too long hours.
She feeds the wolf and wishes it were not so.

But wish in one hand - spit in one
Her mother often said, and see which one is filled up first.
She always listened to her mom, alas.

And so she trudges slowly on.
She doesn’t know what else to do.
Another day to stumble through
And no tomorrow in her soul.
               ljm

I hurt four people
         So I could be wounded by two.

I thought it was a bargain at the time
But I forgot the service charge and fees.
ljm

Floating on an inner tube
Just above the falls
Never mind the current
The joy of summer calls.
ljm

As I say the words that I wish could be true
In a place that can never be mine
I long for the moment that passed long ago
When all things were likely and we thought we could fly.
ljm

Don't offer me a cardboard moon
In shining, gilded whispers
I've stood on midnight hilltops
And kissed the burning stars.

Don't promise me a royal someday
In phrases with their fingers crossed.
I've set my hour glass on taller shelves
And you, my dear, are just a ladder.
                                     ljm

More than my joy in the bright summer flowers,
More than the lure of the sea;
Not less than the sum of eternity's hours
The happiness you bring to me.
                            ljm

Remember you?
My love, I'd sooner  forget my name
Than lose the memory of you.

Remember you?
My heart has filled its empty places
With the Glory that is you.
To sunder that would leave me maimed.

Remember you?
Every beauty I behold while we're apart
Will be a recollection, love, of you.

Remember you?
Only til my life goes down to dust
Will I, my love, remember you.
                                 ljm

A world where everyone waits their turn
And takes no more than their share
Does that make me a communist-
Call me that if you dare.
                   ljm

Dressed in all my brightest colors
               Why am I so blue
Surrounded by excited, happy people
               Why do I so need to cry.
                                  ljm

Plowing fields of acid soil
Where nothing good will ever grow
I swelter in the summer sun
And didn’t bring some water.
ljm

You can’t paint the Sistine Chapel with a roller
You can’t carve The Thinker with a jack hammer
You can’t write a symphony on a Kazoo
And you can’t dance Swan Lake on a trampoline

You can’t bake a cake if you have no oven
You can’t sew a gown with a knitting needle
You can’t build a house out of Lego Bricks
And you can’t win at Lotto without buying a ticket

Why do my eyes not notice the humming bird
Only that the nectar tube needs refilling
Why do I not glory in a field of orange poppies
Only struggle to walk without stepping on one

Why do I pass up small kudus when offered
So I can wallow some more in rejection
Why do I long so for the glow of acceptance
When I have no use for the face in the mirror

We all have to work with the gifts we are given
Talent is not something you can go out and buy
You can’t sigh your way into winning the race
And you can’t coerce people into your fan club

You have to dig deep if you want to find oil
You have to cast bait if you want the big fish
You have to believe that the war can be won
To put down your pen and ******* your sword
           ljm

I find myself in a terrible state
Too old to be young and too young to be old

I am indeed in a terrible state
Too rich to be poor and too poor to be rich

No escaping this terrible state
Too weak to be strong and too strong to be weak

How do I deal with this terrible state
Too smart to be dumb and too dumb to be smart

I’ll just learn to live with this terrible state
Too sad to be glad and too glad to be sad
ljm

I told everyone that I’d be fine -
They dynamited my golden years
And put the pieces in the trash -
But I said I would be OK.

I have resources and reserves
That paved the way
Past rocky highways in the past
And would suffice me once again.

I reassured the ones who wept
That this was not to be an ending -
That I had maps and GPS
To guide me to a safer haven.

But when I looked inside the box
Containing my bravado
There was a hug and a kindly word
And nothing else to help me.

Shocked at all that emptiness
The first thing that I did was cry
And gape into that hollow space
To wonder where the courage went.

But when I saw the others stare
I clamped the lid back on real tight
And glued a smile onto my face,
Picked up my box and strode away.

Now I’m hidden safe at home
Astonished at my disbelief
That years could warp away and melt
The fortitude I counted on.

That I should find myself alone
With nothing but a broken crutch
To help me cross the quicksand bog
And locate solid ground again.

How shall I navigate the mire?
My GPS and maps are gone.
Bravura’s just a memory.
I’m not the big girl after all,

There is no Mommie I can call
No friend to offer magic beans
This time I find myself alone
To see if I can find a way
To fill back up that empty box.
ljm

Mirror mirror on the wall
Who told the biggest lies of all


A tisket a tasket
He just flipped a gasket


Red Rover Red Rover
Let warheads come over


One, two skip to my Lou
Three, four, you’ll start a war
Five, six, you’re in a fix
Skip to my Lou, my darling.
Seven, eight, it’s just too late
Nine, ten, you'll never win
Skip to my Lou, my darling.


Here we go Lupti Lou
Here we go Lupti Lie
Here we go Lupti Lou
Why don’t you lay down and die


Ring around the Rosey
A pocket full of posers
Bashes, Crashes
The World falls down


Mary, Scary, quite contrary
How does your evil grow
With fire drill bells and armored shells
And dead bodies all in a row.
ljm

Gloom
Doom
The Boom of a gun
Haven’t got one
Couldn’t use it if I did.

Sadness
Madness
The Badness of life
How I’ve blown it
And I’ll never have another one.

Crying
Dying
My Trying isn’t working
I can’t make it good
And wouldn’t see it if it was.

Sinking
Blinking
Always Thinking of a way
To stop the tears
But none of them will ever work.

Dreaming
Screaming
Endless Scheming in the night
Only uses up the hours
And another day rears up.

Graying
Praying
Never Straying from the hope
That maybe there’s a better day
If only I can live til then.
ljm

Five O’clock in the morning
And I’ve been crying for two hours
There is no ever after
The locked door has no key
The sun will rise to darkness
And I’m where I belong

I bought the knife that stabs me
Spent every dime I had
It looked so pretty in the case
I thought that I could cut a swath
Through all the strings that bound me
And at last be free to fly

It didn’t work that way
It cut the ties to all I love
And left me just the ragged edges
So now the fabric fades and frays
And will not make a parachute
To save me as I fall.
ljm

She said she didn’t feel good.
They said what else is new.
She said this time it’s different.
They said we’ve heard that too.

She said I think I’m dying
They said give us a break.
She said I’m even crying
They said those tears are fake.

She said I think you’ll miss me.
They said you haven’t gone.
She said it’s getting darker.
They said don’t carry on.

She closed her eyes in silence.
They said come on let’s go.
Her form grew cold and rigid
At last they had to know.

She wasn’t just pretending.
The thing she fought was real.
Her story had no ending.
And her life book they could seal.

They said we’ve been so stupid.
Uncaring and unkind.
She tried and tried to show us
But we were just too blind.

And now she’s gone forever.
Who’s going to run this place.
They don’t know which they’ll miss more-
Her efforts or her face.
ljm

She wears the long black dress of desolation
It swirls with heavy motion as she walks
It’s been in her closet many years
And she really never thought she’d need to wear it

When she finally takes it out, it’s dusty on the shoulders
And she freshens it with a dampened cloth
She is surprised that it still fits her
Since she’s grown much bigger over time

Her whole world lays in shattered pieces on the carpet
She needs to gather them into a bag
To put out for the Friday trash-man pickup
But though she looks, she cannot find a broom.

She puts the bigger pieces in a basket
And collects the tiny shards on masking tape
It’s obvious it can’t be reassembled
So tomorrows hopes must stay there on the floor.

She does not choose a souvenir to keep
From the wreckage of her plans and dreams
She’s seen the circus and the rodeo
So why save pieces of the carousel.

She tidies up and shuts the door
To live in other nearby rooms
So she won’t step on memories
Or trample hopes into the rug.

Tomorrow she’ll tie a red sash on her dress
Don hat and gloves and make her way
Across the bridge to meet the road
That leads to new beginnings
And a broom.
                 ljm

I’ve written my words in quicksand
Mostly gone before they’re seen
My footprints are on the high tide line
Erased by the incoming waves

I leave no shadow at midnight
The wind carries away my song
I call and nobody answers
I think I’m out here alone.

I gather some lilacs and daisies
Enough for a small bouquet
But others have somehow collected
Enough for a Festival float.

The candy store seems to be open
The lollipops all on display
Look so very tempting
I haven’t a cent to my name.

No one will buy my small posey
I have nothing much else to sell
Oh well, I’m too fat for a lolly
So I’ll look away and walk by.

Someday someone may decipher
The code that I don’t understand
Though I speak it and write it
And paste it on billboards.

And stand in the shadows
In case someone stops
To gaze at the verses
So recently written in sand

And breathe in the scent of the ocean
The feel of bare feet on wet sand
And suddenly discern the shadow
The posey, the lolly, the music and me
                 ljm

Silent thunder shakes the windows
Causing birds to flee the tree outside
And fling themselves into the raging wind

Jagged lightning flames the sky
In all the colors of a sunrise
While the moon still says it’s midnight

Rain has finally found it’s way
Around the thirsty desert mountains
And readies itself for the deluge

Sandbags may hold back the flood
But they can’t stop tomorrow
And the monsoon putting on its boots

Dawning comes in dreary clothing
Gray and heavy in the hems
Waiting to start shrugging off

The weather, like a game of
Stack the Timber Tower
Debates the utmost time to tumble

Everything is battened down
Awaiting the first sprinkles
That will presage the downpour

The birds have come back to the trees
But they are silent like the thunder
While the city holds it’s breath

And watches out a million windows
With the TV standing by
As we all wait to meet the wet
   ljm

Something’s wrong with my poor Mac
It’s acting very strange
It may have had a heart attack
Or else become deranged.

It doesn’t do the things I say
Or function like it should
It wants to go a different way
And that is never good.

I try to save what I just wrote
I press the proper key
But when I try to find the note
It’s nowhere I can see.

The spell check has been smoking crack
It now speaks only Greek
I click it and it answers back
With words I did not seek.

So many things have run amok
I think I need a nurse
To find a cure with any luck
Before things get much worse.

So I’ll unplug it’s life support
And take it to repair
And hope I get a good report
And not news of despair.

I do not want another one
I just want this one fixed
I do not know which way to run
My feelings are so mixed.

If they cannot mend this thing
I know I will be sad
This Mac is not a Diamond ring
But yet it’s not so bad.

At least I know it’s ins and outs
And how to work around them
I just can’t stand it when it pouts      
And threatens me with mayhem.

So I must take myself off line
And miss a day or two
I think that that will be just fine
As long as I have told you.

I’m not the star of any show
Not everyone will miss me
I just want to let you know
So nobody will diss me.

For disappearing suddenly
And not hearting the daily
I’m vanishing quite thuddingly
But I’ll return most gaily.
ljm

Full moon veiled in a silken mist
Outline dim and wan
Mocking the hour when last we kissed
Now that love has gone.
ljm

On Monday I bury the last of my dreams
And give up my hopes for tomorrow.
I do what’s required to look in the glass
Resigned to become friends with sorrow.

On Monday I’ll pass over white and wear black
I hear the prediction is rain.
I’ll pray for the sun and prepare for the clouds
And seek out small joys in my pain.

On Monday it all takes a turn for the different
Will it get better or will it get worse
I’ll gamble my future on staggering odds
With nothing to save me but verse.

On Monday my heart will have gone somewhere else
As my will walks me into that room
And my mind searches vainly for some safe escape
From the depths of my self-tunneled tomb.

On Monday I’ll stand up and do what I said
The chips must fall down where they may
I’ll carry it through, though I’ll wish I were dead
It’s a price I can nothing but pay.
lsj

Where the sunlight splashes through
The barely moving branches of the Magnolia tree
It makes a fascinating pattern on the patio.
Amy Lowell wrote of patterns in a lovely, angry verse
When she was writing about how she hated war.

I bend to trace the patterns with my toe
And focus on the possibilities of now
With monster canons rolling down the boulevards
And goose-step imitators marching by
While in the stands a devilishly evil Buddha smiles.

A zephyr gently stirs the leaves
And all the patterns rearrange again
I look at them with half closed eyes
And I can’t find the symmetry
That I saw just an hour ago.

The Kraken still is held by chains
And though he gushes fire and venom
The patterns on the wall contain him
As he thrashes to replace the sun
With a new one of his own creation.

Amy walked a peaceful garden path
In dappled sunlight long ago
Creating lines that live today.
I trundle down a brick-lined walk
And hope that I will have tomorrow.
                         ljm

Once again the bullets fly
Once again the chldren die
Once again the parents cry
Once again we wonder why

When will we all stand and say
The problem is the NRA
And all the congressmen they pay
To turn their heads the other way.

We need to all stand up and shout
All together we’ll have clout
We need to organize a rout
And vote the slimy ******* out
       ljm

Kneeling at the altar of the Sleep Gods
In supplication and in need
I plead for this thunder storm of stress to stop
And the lightning flash scenarios to abate.
My ragged sleeve of care needs knitting up
And I can not afford to buy the yarn.
ljm

The weight of my anger grows too heavy to carry
I search for a place to at last lay it down
But there’s a steep wall  on my left, a sheer drop on my right
And those coming behind me behind me are pushing me on

My disappointment is as tall as a mountain
Big stone at the bottom I’m too weak to push up
I’ve worn out a groove on the road to the summit
And life carved a path for it on the way down

I once loved an SF writer named Harlan
His anger made mine seem like a mere whine
How I envied his command of the language
The words of his hatred set fire to the pages

His anger was TNT in a small package
The fuse so short it couldn’t be seen
The world around him resembled a matchbook
And Society always offered a light.

But that was a journey I took long ago
He strode into sunlight - I slipped into shadow
He never taught me to make bonfires of language
And I so wish I’d stayed til that lesson was learned.
ljm

Vultures circle on the horizon
They land on nearby trees and wait
They make no sound at all
Fluff their wings in anticipation
And their eyes are fixed and shiny
So evil bright and shiny

Their number grows each passing hour
And their silence terrifies much more
Than the howling wind that echoes
From the distant rocky canyons
And roils the low hung clouds above
And stirs the low slung clouds

The broken trees who’s fruit is vultures
Bear no leaves and don’t remember
Ever having such a coat or
Sap that rose up in the springtime
To foretell a new beginning
There ware no new beginnings

Their only memory is drought
And brittle stands against the wind
That snapped off branches, limbs and buds
And left but bleached out skeletons
To mark the passing of the years
         The passing of so many years

Through the wounded vegetation
Run barely visible tracks or trails
That seem to start from far away
And end up on the other side of it
With lots of detours along the way
Detours all along the way

There is no safety anywhere
In this barren desert place
Where nothing grows but spiny things
Not tall enough to create shadows
In the unforgiving burning sun
The unrelenting sun

A wounded bunny, colored like the sand
Sits very still, afraid to move
Survivor of a former battle
It has almost no strength left
And not even that much hope
Used up every bit of hope

If only there were den or burrow
If there were brambles with their thorns
They might provide a hiding place
A chance to live another day
To do the things that bunnies do
And live the way that bunnies live

Waiting for a miracle or magic wand
In a place where those do not exist
The bunny, frozen in the hope
The birds will find some other prey
And may not see him crouching there
Prays for escape by crouching there

Suddenly the sky explodes
With beating wings and raucous cries
The thunder of a hunter’s gun
Has launched the birds in frantic flight
And one lies dead upon the sand
So newly dead upon the sand

While the hunter pokes and eyes his prize
If such a bird can be a prize
The little bunny bides his time
Until it’s safe to hop away
So he can live another day
And plan to live another day
ljm

Hatred isn’t black - it’s not that pretty-
It’s that dun color greeny-muddy-brown -
The color of dirt around a rusted pipe.
It’s the color you get when you mix
Red and yellow and Blue together.
A hideous shade without a useful purpose,
And stirring in some white won’t help it.
The only thing to do is scrape your palate clean,
Wash out all your brushes and begin again.
ljm

Plunging through the mud and brambles
We chase a butterfly we’ll never catch
Still we cannot stop pursuing
We push ourselves to go a little faster
Even though the tangled vines
Wrap tight around and scratch our legs

The seeping blood becomes a whip
To urge us ever onward
The butterfly with glowing azure wings
Lites long enough to give us hope
Of finally catching up with it
And holding all that beauty in our hands

But then it lifts and floats away
Leaving just it’s siren song behind
To echo in our longing minds
And send a message that tells us
The goal we seek is possible
If only we do not give up

No matter how we spend our strength
With aching legs and burning lungs
No matter all the meadows that we race across
The butterfly continues to float out of reach
And in the end we realize
That we must settle for a moth.
ljm

Lost on the rutted road to nowhere-
Bumper to bumper in traffic
That creeps along at a pace
Guaranteeing poor mileage
And overheated engines.

What difference does it make-
I don’t know where I’m going
Or care if I ever arrive.
There’s  nothing for me at the turnoff
But another unmarked  highway.

I had a road map once,
All marked with good directions
But I left it in a restroom
When I washed my hands
And saw a stranger in the glass

And listened to his tales of shortcuts
Promising to bring me home
To hearth fires burning
Warm with dinner in the oven
And two arms stretching out to me.

Silly, foolish, stupid me-
Hungering for meals not offered-
Rushing places I’m not wanted-
Giving things nobody takes
And getting empty boxes in return .
             ljm

This morning I’m a conscientious
Forty year employee.
At midnight I become a deadbeat-
Jobless with no prospects.

Used up like a paper towel
And tossed into the garbage,
Even though my weave is good
And I could soak up more

Of all the disrespect and slander
They mopped up with me daily
As I tried to be the very best
At what they cannot understand.

They will see their error soon
As puddles begin forming.
They will find their feet are wet
And all their clay is melting.
            ljm

THERE IS A SAYING:

THE INSTRUCTIONS FOR LIVING OUTSIDE THE BOX

ARE WRITTEN ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE BOX.

Why does this site rearrange spacing when you hit the Save button.  Time after time I type something in a certain format and when it comes up on screen, all the spacing is different.  I wrote a thing shaped like an evergreen tree.  Took me forever to get the words to fit the spacing needed.  I hit the save button and it was totally unrecognizable.  I hit the Edit button so that I could manually correct the spacing and what came up was a perfect rendition of the original.  So how was I supposed to correct the posted version from that?  Can't be done.  This is not the first time for this to happen and make my blood boil.  Anybody got a solution?
If you want to see "The Tree", I can e-mail it to you.

A
My hatred simmers in a *** on yesterday’s stove. The store was out of what I needed to spice it up and I left my Visa card there. My neck is sore from keeping my chin up. I’ve hung the acid soaked sentences out back where the wind and sun will dry them. I marked a map and programed GPS but somehow I  still managed to get lost. There is no future, only now, and I can’t read the instructions Google won’t translate for me.  I have a dollar bill to keep me fed with manna in the morning and a hamburger at night. There is a screaming fit locked up in a closet in the basement. Resignation looks around and wonders who resigned - It couldn’t have been me.  The dam that won’t release the tears shows signs of cracking at the bottom. The bow that shoots the vengeful arrows has a broken string. Standing tall will only render me a better target. •The pillars that support my worth are festooned with poison ivy. The waves of loss and terror crash and roll but I’ve become a cork.
I float.
                      ljm

                                                            ­      
                                                                ­                                            B
•NOTIFICATIONS•

•M­y hatred simmers in a *** on yesterday’s stove.
•The store was out of what I needed to spice it up and I left my        
   Visa Card there.
•My neck is sore from keeping my chin up.
•I’ve hung the acid soaked sentences out back where the wind and
   the sun will dry them.        
•I marked a map and programed GPS but somehow I still
   managed to get lost
•There is no future, only now, and I can’t read the instructions
   Google won't translate for me.
•I have a dollar bill to keep me fed with manna in the morning and
   a hamburger at night
•There is a screaming fit locked up in a closet in the basement.
•Resignation looks around and wonders who resigned - It couldn’t
   have been me.
•The dam that won’t release the tears shows signs of cracking at the
   bottom
•The bow that shoots the vengeful arrows has a broken string.
•Standing tall will only render me a better target.
•The pillars that support my worth are festooned with poison ivy.
•The waves of loss and terror crash and roll but I’ve become a cork.
•I float.
                           ljm

Evil has gotten itself a gun
              The end of the world has just begun.
                              ljm

The Iambic well is a writer’s Hell
It has captured many a poet
And often those not on their toes
Fall in before they know it

Through forty years of smiles and tears
I’ve struggled to avoid it
I’ve danced around that killing ground
Which only just annoyed it

So it sent out a water spout
That grabbed me by the ankle
I fought it off and lived to scoff
Which caused that well to rankle

I got away but to this day
I find my lines Iambic
It’s such a shame my verse is lame
I’d hoped it would be tantric.
ljm

THE ANGRY WATERS
that recoiled and threatened a tsunami
lie placid now, bacalmed and still
as shiny as a glass topped dining table

THE HOWLING WINDS
that longed to be a hurricane
have settled into zephyrs and soft breezes
that barely riff the petals of the autumn roses

THE RAGING THUNDER
that tried so hard to break the windows
has rolled on and is nothing but a distant echo
that recedes as fast as memories of childbirth pain

THE VICIOUS RAIN
that threatened to go flooding
has slacked off into a gentle winter mist
that wraps the dawning sun in silken haloes

THE VOLCANIC FLAMES
that lept across the sky as lightning
have danced across the hills to other valleys
leaving only ozone to mark where they have been

AND I AM SPARED AND WHOLE
Unwounded and unscarred
Undamaged by their passing
Unscathed in places that should bleed
And safe in who I plan to be
At last the God of Hope
Has noticed me
And offered me
His hand to take
And walk into
Tomorrow.
          ljm

I’m a balloon with too much air
     Someone didn’t know when to quit
           The huffing and puffing wouldn’t stop
                     And I’m stretched past the breaking point
                               My wit’s been dulled so I don’t fear
                                      That I’ll pop myself with a sharp retort
                               I’m staying on the cobbled path
                        Avoiding the roses in the garden
                 And the cactus in the field next door.
             If I had a clue where I was bound
   I’d have a chance to make it there
    But one sharp look will do me in

And the blast will level Burbank.
         ljm

The light at the end of the tunnel was a firefly
Bright and so exciting, and just as quickly gone
                          ljm

Can I share your Christmas
Mine’s been ****** away
Too busy closing out my job
To have much time to play

No Christmas tree, no mistletoe
No wreath on my front door
No strings of lights across the roof
No “spirit” any more

I promise not to hog your joy
And I will not intrude
I only want to steal a taste
Of all your special day includes

A whiff of loving happiness
And reverence for the season
I want to feel some holiday
And that’s my only reason

So if you’ll let me have a bite
Of what your Christmas means
I’ll be forever in your debt
For sharing happy scenes.

ljm

One more hour in the job I love
Then they ****** it all away
Too many letters in my last name
And I won’t join the games they play

One more hour in my office home
Before it becomes not mine
They took away the reason why
I need a space to spend my time

I’m sitting in a dunking booth
My chair held by a pin
The ***** are going to come my way
Which one will tip me in

Which lame excuse will be the one
They hand me on a plate
Which evil lie will be pronounced
To seal my future fate

Fifty minutes left to carve
The end of my career
Until they push me out to starve
And turn a deafened ear

Or maybe only cut my time
To watch me slowly bleed
And later do the coupe de grace
As they eliminate my need

The time is slowly racing by
My calm is wearing thin
I’ve tried so hard to handle this
To walk out with a grin

But jitterbugs have made their home
In all my quiet places
My throat is learning to seize up
And spoil my placid faces

My mind has owned the coming doom
But my belly missed the memo
I vowed to not succumb to gloom
And ride out in a limo

The hour is up - the hatchet *****
Has done her thing and gone
It hurts much more than I had guessed
I’m not sure I can carry on

What goes around will come around
A saying tried and true
I grab the courage I just found
And know I’ll make it through

ONE HUNDRED HOURS LATER

I’ve found a way to stay afloat
I’ve given it much thought
Perhaps the Gods will smile on me
And I’ll end up on a yacht.

The people I’ve dealt fairly with
Have rallied round my cause
They’re going to help me find a way
To sidestep hunger’s jaws

There is a path that I’d not seen
That leads to greater riches
And I will now begin that walk
And spite those loathsome *******

Who thought that they could throw me out
Like Sunday morning trash
With never a thought of what I’d use
For weekly grocery cash

What goes around has come around
To me - I’ll be just fine
The people that I’ve served so well
Have helped me cross the line

The storm has finally passed me by
I see an end to sadness
I now know I can carry on
Despite their evil badness.

So now my time has ended here
I’m wistful but not crying
I’ve seen a sunrise just ahead
And I’ve new wings for flying

ljm

The constipated words are painfully
Backed up against the need to shout
And hurl invectives to the wind

Drenched in acid that can eat away
The evilness that found a helpful hand
To wrap it as a Christmas gift

And give it to me like some prize
I labored thirty years to win
And finally achieved my goal

Like working at an unplugged keyboard
I pound the keys and nothing types
Across the pages of my anger

The smoking verbs lack oxygen
And smolder while I long for flames
That roar and burn away the hatred

The ink that boils inside my pen
Has melted off the writing nib
And trapped itself in uselessness

The need to rage has reached the point
Of absolute paralysis and I
Am turned into a frozen sculpture

I need to scream and shriek and cry
And kick down walls to watch them crumble
I need to pull the cosmos down a round me

But my hand is numb with loss and grief
My mind a clouded cauldron of pain
My heart's in pieces scattered on the floor

There is no analgesic for my wounds
The only hope is ink on paper
And the inkwell has been poisoned.
                              ljm

Who are these people?

I baked them bread. I made them welcome
And they left **** and ***** on my lovely carpet.
They smiled as they stole my Gramma’s silver teapot
They pulled down the curtain in my dressing room
And mopped the bathroom floor with it

They each got a Jeep in ’59, parlayed it
To a better place to be and live
And perfect superior attitudes that
delegate those with rounded eyes
To the lonely space beneath contempt.

Who are these people?

I learned their songs and sang along
But they stole my record player
And sold it for a dollar ten
And gave me only half the money
Saying that was all they got.

They rob their kids of childhood games
To run the shop and study hard
To be the best at everything
And social mores and etiquette
Are something for the native born.

Who are these people?

I helped them when I saw a need
And never got a thank you
I smiled when they pushed me aside
To reach the goodie table first
And take the biggest piece.

They piously bow heads to pray
On entering a holy place
(That serves as Country Club)
To listen to the words of God
And leave to serve the devil.

Who are these people?

They are the winners in an evil game
A hive that can’t be overcome
I watch myself go down in flame
And wait for justice to be won.
                      ljm

The doors that looks could open up
Are padlocked to us now.
The passing years have turned the key
And we are locked outside.
Standing in the icy rain, still trying to get in
Where beauty generates the warmth.

The more bedraggled we appear
The more we disappear.
The paper on the wall becomes
The pattern of our lives.
We arch the brows and paint the lips
And dye the silver strands

But nothing short of neon lights
Will draw attention to our mein.
We see the glance like lighthouse-sweep
Wash over us and then away
As quickly as revolving beams
And we are left here in the dark,

Remembering the longing glance-
The interlocking of the eyes
That told us we had been approved
And freed to move about the sphere
Where all the pretty people were,
And we were added to that sum.

How bittersweet to meet the days
We knew were there but still refused to see
Encamped along our road of life
Like brigands poised to steal the last
Of shimmer from the faces that we wore
And leave us all with masks of wrinkled, sagging age.

ljm

The wind has stopped
blowing
  A leaf settles slowly
           on quicksand
and does not sink
The wind has
stopped howling in
       the canyons
but the fires
burn on
  and you
     dare not
         walk across
     the quicksand
to put them
          out.

  ljm

There was a big heart that beat steadily in the name of duty
It beat strongly in the name of love
It beat for years beyond expectations
Until the evil crows descended
First they took a little nibble here and there
It must have tasted good
For they started taking bigger bites
Restricting the rhythm of the beating
A new flight landed to join the feast
And there was a year long frenzy
Soon there was nothing left but scraps
Pulsing weakly, yet refusing to die
So they got the elephant in the room
To stomp across it several times
And that worked just the way they hoped
What was left was scraped up off the floor
And thrown out with the garbage.
ljm