Writing my name into the night -
with a 'fat doobie'
Strumming a brick red Applause guitar -
beneath the weekend stars , perched on the hood
of a beat up but paid for car
Every song and view an original
Time inexpensive , conformity a joke
Young freedom cherished with every ***** ...

when daily news
over weeks and months
reports events that  far exceed
most people’s homespun nightmares

can we react as poets
and not be seen as cashing in on the sensation
like all the media have come to do without regret?

It may be wise not to give in
to the temptation to create ******* of violence
but try to just suggest the essence of catastrophe

a lonely high-heeled sandal on the roadside
one flip-flop much too small to fit adults
a tough man crying without shame

there are events for which we don’t have proper words

this does not mean we should keep silent

My heart speaks a language
Unknown even to me
I listen for answers
But nothing is clear
The language of silence
Can only bring tears
But I knew it from the start
The power of resolve

Skipping lightly on surface tension
hopping lotus pad to pad
barely left a ripple leaving
the domestic shenanigans.

Now rogue ronin rock,
no master no disciple
I wander without orbit
gliding between

Thirty suns warming
cockles of a deadened heart
dreaming a home