Silly me, someone left a very large box
With an assortment of books outside
And I could've brought them inside
And proclaimed them for my very own
Only I didn't,  and now rain has fallen

I craft words
With imagery
Inside my head,
I weave and I write
As I go along,
Swarming my brain
Like a thousand bees,
The clock hand ticks
Quicker than mine,
So sometimes I run
Off the page and forget
What I was even thinking.

Who are the throwaway humans
                     ?
Do they deserve to be here at all
                     !?
You think they don't know don't you
                      ?
When you trash them and condemn their gall

"Can't we just be allowed a quiet space
We won't be any trouble, we truly declare
Don't beat us to death on the killing floor
Just because we've out lived our usefulness here"

Yet, NOoo! You say with a grin uncanny
You could care less and actually never did
We are too much of a reminder of your future
It angers you and you pop your lid

You rant and rave about what a drain we are
How if we weren't here all your ills would be gone
When in reality it's going to be you very soon

That will be pleading and singing a much different song

"Wow, to us the fallen.
Look what they have done
They brought us to their level
This isn't fair or even fun
Our party now is over
All because of you
Look at what you did to us
We'll get you yet, before we're through"

Of course we know the real reason
They are practicing things that are untrue
We are just constant reminders of non-compliance
Yes, your party's over, boo hoo, boo hoo, boo hoo

It’s a fight to
wake up
so early
sunday morning.

a hike was set
up clearly
no problem.
motivation
was built in
or so it was
perceived
before gathering
all four plus one
getting lunch in
the a.m. to eat
in the p.m. five
aluminum bottles
filled with earth’s
most purest
element (water)
on my back
in a pack pulling
perspiration from
my pores. soaked.
sore. rock hopping
dirt treading
it was fun
it was work
the stream we
followed up. up
to what could easily
be called a piece of
Heaven. the peace of
a waterfall. source
of the stream.

then
when
we returned
we heard the
sunday morning
man on the podcast
behind a microphone
inside four walls
say,
“i’ll take the
elevator.”

He gave her the Earth, the Moon and Mars.
Still she said she needed more space.
      So he gave her the air.
   ljm

Challenge rules the kingdom of reason
Compassion is the queen of heart
Indifference breaks the circle of suffering

That's about all ... but if you want more

Meaning rests within the arrow of time

decent . good manners may be retrospective.          breeze soap defunkt.



an error occurred, meanwhile back in the bathroom, soaps and dentifrice.



look you, this is an older place, where there are instruction books. it runs

through the family.                                                                                         now.



we wash our face each morning and before bed at night.                   some

things are worn clean every day .                                                      don’t you?

sbm.

rabid dog like passions
loose on the lawn at two thirty in the morning
but the breeze around us
found out two weeks later
of our audience
got the review
it was nice
all they said