She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~

We don't like what you're doing
Let alone what you have done
If you continue this quest to bring us to ruin
We'll blow you all to kingdom come

With a peace through strength solution
We ready up the tanks
As we bow our heads thanking Jesus
For blessing us this day

Did someone call for the World Police
To straighten out this mess
Here to beat you senseless
Knock around a few heads

Whether or not you know it
We know better than you
As we send our men into foreign laands
With our own brand of the god awful truth

With liberty and justice
We'll spank you into place
All the while with heads bowed
Continually saying grace

And once we've solved that problem
We'll move on to the next round
Set you up till we've had enough
Only to knock you all back down

How can love
Lift you up
To the highest heights

And then
Just as quick
Kick you over the side

How can love
Hurt so much
Where all you do is cry

And then in
The same instance
Break you into smile

How can love
Be more than enough
And yet still question why

If only love
Could be understood
I wonder what we'd find

I am not the master of my writing

-
my writing masters me,
seizing me when the seizure is a sure thing,
it dictates to its enslaved scribe
what it desires this utensil to reveal and expel -
the contraries
who having battled to a ****** draw leaves the battlefield trembling with indecent indecision; the optimal conditions for its macrobiotic invasion of my brain stem;

the she-muse offers me two choices:
she wants a poem writ forthwith
on the lyrical expression
of depression and refusal is
non optional

so I fantasize escape and that becomes
her property as well;
evidence against me to be used at my trials,
the one where there is no statue of liberty
from the limitations of prior bad acts;

I offer the she-muse two choices:

give me a cabin with WiFi
and self-enforcement of solitary confinement and
tie me up with the rope remainders of broken bonds,

bonds that tied me up worse
when they were broken
and the peaceful withering
that won’t disrupt disturb nobody
from a distance

my other choice is to bury me
forthwith next to my parents
and shutter my constant tearing eyes which are drop-resistant

muse says that’s no choice
I own your voice stilled or not,
will bill your soul’s account for
denial of poetic services

weep; i don’t want the noises that curse this troubled
bodyship don’t want recollections good or bad

the muse-***** cackles with insanity of delight
for she accepts this writ as partial payment
on her commission, whispers I love your
lyrical expressions of depression
that ****** recognition algorithms
alert me that seizing time is nigh

there is no on/off switch for one like you:
father son and holy ghost

It rains
and I think of bales
of wet hay
crushing the wind
out of children
riderless ponies
with frayed rope
tied to the pommels
I find it hard to explain
eyeshadow and dead weight
tied to the other end
and girls who would like to
go on in this world
***** by their mother's
stepsons and husbands
the men and women
of learning have left us
so much, I prefer
to look at the moon.

Here we sit...
On the front porch of our twilight
Losing savings to our daylight
Sometimes forgetting who we are

Placing bets...
On who death holds up his sleeve
Being the next one to leave
While counting our lucky stars

Where we've been...
Flashes in the background
Further back than right now
As the morning is a blur

Being kept...
Alive on pills and promises
And what little money we have left
Before they show us to the door

And with that said...
We might say it all again
With who, what, where, and even when
As our minds commence to rust

Happened so fast...
Like a 3 minute pop song
Blink too fast and it's gone
Ashes to ashes dust to dust