I didn't do anything controversial today
Other than hear the news.
I must be an aberration; in the minority.
I didn't shoot my mouth off;
I didn't shoot anyone,
Or invade my neighbour's space.
If I did, I'd be the news.
All I did was write an inconsequential poem
With a pen moving across straight blue lines.
I'll bet Chris Wallace won't read it on the news.

5                   5
0.                  0
2.                  2
Bad Gateway
5.                  5
0.                  0
2.                  ­2

502 Bad
G.               a
T                  e
W.               a
Y 502 Bad
5
0
2

Where will we be?
Will we be in '23?
When '21 ended,
Where were we?
Will we make it through '22.
Let's be Smart
With '22's start.
Re-think.  Re-model.
'21's gone; '22's here;
So let's get smart.
No gloom. No dark.
Think on another;
Bring truth to our hearts,
And to this world. Our World.
Stay alert. Stay sharp.
There's others
Playing other parts.
Let's Help,
Without sounding a word.

Desmond Tutu died.
Not left behind in Afghanistan.
He didn't drown in a comet induced Tsunami.
The lava flow from la Palma didn't fry him.
Aids, Corona, measles, small-pox or Enola didn't infect him.
World fires didn't **** the oxygen from his lungs.
He didn't dehydrate in the Sahara.
No plane fell on him, nor did he fall out of one.
His size indicates it wasn't a self-imposed hunger strike.

Desmond Tutu just died.

A two year old with his father's handgun didn't do him in.
He wasn't struck down by a falling tree, or speeding car.
I'm sure he fell lots of times, but he always got back up.
He doesn't hang from a cross; he wasn't tossed overboard.
And he wasn't lynched, electrocuted, injected or shot standing.

He died,
Naturally, on St. Stephen's Day, when stoning is popular.

It's a **** good thing he led such an exemplary, meritorious life, or we wouldn't know
Desmond Tutu died.

I forgot the present.
I went back,
And watched a flower open yesterday.
Imagination turned real.
There was banter and banging;
Strumming and keying.
I witnessed a chick, hatching,
Breaking through.
After the picking and pecking,
Their scratching and scolding,
I paused in need of help:
Get Out.
No one is that good.

Between the vaxxers
And the anti-vaxxers;
Between the dearly educated,
And the poorly educated;
The lines are blurred,
But clearly visible.

A new third world ******* emerged.
South of the U.S.
North of Mexico.
On the Gulf Coast.
Flag: Cantor, Black; Field, Black
Bird: Raptor
Flower: Fly Trap
Motto: Your Body Is the Body Politic.

I am woke,
Yet living in a nightmare
Of prejudice.

beth and ian of china were
hteb and nai of egypt.
hteb and nai ruled egypt twice.
now lola rules with her son ray
of the sun, lola says boohoohoo!
lola is egypt’s true queen as she
was first to walk the land.

I never had a choice
With what I love;
Like tasting ice-cream,
Sunny days,
A child's expectant face
At a parade;
Puppies and kittens are adored;
Closing sales at favorite stores.
They ignite a spark I can't extinquish,
A blazing warmth that's out of control,

Hello poetry is not happy
Hello poetry is not well
Hello poetry is not healthy
Hello poetry's gone to hell

I see these thoughts and sentiments echoed
In different forms upon my wall
I feel it too as I click and stumble
As I watch and wait for the wheel crawl

I've only been here a little while
I like the format, I like the style
The thoughts, the words,
The shares, the smiles
But why is loading
Such an arduous trail?

Hello poetry's not so bad
I've got plenty of patience
Hello poetry doesn't make me mad
It offers me contemplation

I click, I stumble
I wait, I mumble
"502, the gatekeepers in trouble..."