the burdens weigh heavy,
and women cry in the streets,
this is a world broken by many,
one where children don't eat.
the downtrodden are giving up,
men dream of war in their sleep,
the one percent are ******,
and it all weighs on me.

rain lines pelt a glass window
looking out to a wet asphalt street
under a gray-scale bloated sky
where clouds push and billow

winter arrived with autumn's face
sad, with eyes full of years
these winds howl a lonesome veer
where sleepless trees shed leaves

above lie stones, below is rest
as grass imbibes through root
in morning's dark or lighted night
days colors are alike

winter arrived with autumn's face
a mask now cold once warm
while ina grave of earth's embrace
lie testaments of storm

-cec

What can you say
to a rogue road
word warrior
who fight’s a
new dragon each day.

Tilting windmills
that really are
fat cat monsters
in red sports cars.

Gentlemen protectors,
consummate failures
that succumb to the thumb
of corporate jailors
in this capitalistic
prison system.

Self-directed learner,
midnight oil burner
whose biography
would barely be
a once a day
page turner.

What can you tell
a man who sees hell
in beauty
and pulls
psychedelics
from cow ****.

When reality has been
subjected by
profitable trends
and the world’s end
is only a minor irritation
to their united nation
of bank supporters.

What do you ask
a dreamer
before he passes
knowing that
dead men’s dreams
cannot outlast
greed driven schemes.

The way was steep and rocky
A cliff on one side and a drop on the other.
I had not worn my hiking boots,
They were too old and broken down
And I could not afford new ones.  
My flimsy little tennis shoes
Felt every stone and crevice.

The wind was colder than I thought
Against my light-weight summer jacket.
I had no mittens for my hands
So I kept them in my pockets.

The sun was out when I began
The air was warm and the wind was calm.
The path was smooth and leveled out
With lovely vistas to be had.
I strolled along among a crowd
Of friendly, cheerful people
Until the path began to rise
More steeply than the posters showed,
And folks began to drop out one-by-one,
Not willing to surmount the rocks
That cropped up in the winding way.

I had a need to see the top
So I kept taking one more step
And one more breath of mountain air.
Cheerfulness grew difficult
As bigger boulders blocked the path.
But there was always a way around,
Although the footing was unsure.

I once looked over the drop on my left
And was gripped by paralyzing fear;
But I feared more to end my quest

My feet were sore, my hands were cold;
My nose was red and running.
But I could see the banner at the top
And my name was written on it.
Suddenly I was not alone
And I was not a failure.
I did what others could not do
And did it on a shoestring.
I had no fancy gear or help.
I climbed that mountain on my own;
So don’t tell me what I can’t do.
ljm

He’s tired,
body aching,

feels the shivers
roll down his spine.

All the pain
is breathtaking.

All his limbs are shaking.

Eyes barely open,
lays his head back
to relax,
but sleep will not come.

He feels older than his age
with wrinkle he hasn’t earned.
Soft tissue and arthritic issues
are a burden
he was not ready to own.

He yells,
see tears sear
his reddening eyes.

He fell,
and he will never rise.

They put his body in a coffin
and laid him down to rest
but this isn’t a sleep
he’ll wake from.

There is no more pain for him.

even in autumn
she wore flowers
in her hair

as if
they belonged
next to her beautiful
mind

like the daisies
belonged
growing within
the grass

she was an angel
in a summer dress
whispering
to me
her darkest secrets

like precious gifts
she spilt them
from her sweet tongue
into my mouth

and i knew
i would
never again
go hungry

as i ate

every

single

one