Halloween at Camp LeJuene

So those storage tanks
the ads of late-night-- all talkin' about
some thirty-five years a-leaking like...
some aplastic benzene-apocryphal river

Horror!
tastes like chemo Kool Aide
forever in the mouth
washing over parade route
seeping into boots and wombs
of cadets who can't hear the music
over a child's laughter-- ever

over failing livers
lined up like lawyers marching
onto glyphosate green
to Parkinsonian cheers
to Taps-solos echoeimg off the stone-
of mind and memory

Flags!
Flapping-angry!

“No (wo)man left behind
on the multiple ways to myeloma
Miscarriages
of justice!

A silence waiting

an eternity
of tiny infant cries
emptying....
into Love Canal

There will be...
NO JUSTICE!

Only billions set aside
for funeral-ic devastation

“Significant compensation”
--being read in a woman's face
in a woman's voice

“...suffering from any of these....
after drinking the water at Camp Le Juene”

at the hands-down
heads-turned
greased palms of

     silence

being owned
by military-corpporate
“channels”
of secrecy

...of Pharma-to-government
medical-backwaters
laundered to-governments
of banana republics

Mercenery chemicals
Medicine with missile launchers
strewn
among military over-runs of...
…of high power rifles,
night goggles, and F-15s

What am I missing here?

...about the rubbery clots and myocarditis?
Has it finally come round to us?

How could I not see!

not recall?
How many years ago--
since I could hear?

the rapid fire!
“The toxic Leaks!”

“...suffered from any of these...”
...feeding tube terrors
Time's tumors
downgrade to errors
deferred...
Now beside the grief as amputees
--take the field of parade
While Misplaced Rage
pages through abortions of blame
in the chemical caldron
where they ****, shower, and shave

...then towel-dry their babies

or not....

Where are the rapid-fire rats and bats
when we need 'em?

Semper Fi!

And your neck is the dawn... 
And your neck is the dawn...
I will put your clothes on you;
  The call to prayer is raised;
I've woven the new adhan for you...
Like all your stories
And your shoes, my son...
All the buzz of branches and grape leaves are in your eyes...
And I will kiss...
All the white buds of sambac jasmine...
All the red buds of sambac jasmine...
From your heart...
your legs,
your arms,
Become golden...
The bud of the claw of your larynx turns green...
And your neck is
The tall white palm...
Your neck is the long rainbow...
For the butterfly to come through the walls...
For the coming of my flesh into your voice...

Three white doves sitting still
No use flying now
Danger everywhere.
Waiting.
HOPE….

Child,
sitting in the cellar,
crying.
Mothers,
sitting numb,  
praying for LOVE….
Men,
shooting guns
throwing bombs.
For PEACE….



Shell ✨🐚

Rockefeller Centre do you have a garbage can,
do you have an electric charger
Rockefeller Centre do you have water,
Rockefeller Centre do you have a happy life???

In war, everything new
turns instantly old.
Children without childhood.



Shell ✨🐚

I’m repulsed
by callous jokes,
from wealthy blokes.

How rich men thrive
while the innocent die
choking on their own bile.

A thousand lives
of hard knock
lessons we learn
as businessmen
take their turns
making cities burn
with bombs
that blow up
leaving children
growing up
and crying out loud,
“I miss my daddy.”

I'm not Santa Claus but I'm hefty.
I'm not jolly cuz life left me
navigating deftly
across time zones
where minds roam
while I dream of a present
that presents positive possibilities;

Not Marvel’s what if comic book realities
that I used to collect,
but issues that direct
my heart towards acts of compassion
as I ask strangers what they are lacking
that makes them malicious actors.

I have not discovered the ultimate factors,
or removable variables
that would enhance our ability
to be superbly gifted soldiers
of love and humanity.

Weary, I'm still searching.

Seven shells for sale,
so what we got
could be bought
and what was lost
could not.

Searching the sandy beach,
hungry, all we caught
was an empty net
that wished to be
filled beyond belief
with the bounty of
that great deep sea.

Our children weep
and dream of stomachs
bursting with treats,
while hurting eyes meet
in the same discreet
heartbreaking defeat.

I came to you
with games
and love
to spare,
with a heart
that cares,
seeking to
end despair
in favor of
a better world.

You came
with hate
and violence,
the will to silence
all those who
would be kind to
you and others to.

You bombed
and brutalized
told our people
horrible lies
to make them despise
the good guys.

You turned homes
into ****** battlefields
tortured and killed
cause it was a thrill
to sit back and make
more than a cool mill.

But one day
when you
refuse to change
I will come back,
attack with rage.
I will return your plague
with the self-inflicted
bitterness made
from thinking
things could be better.

I can barely catch my breath,
there’s a sea of swirling madness
bodies bursting with endless
tragic tears of sadness
and all the sobbing leaves me
heaving and breathless.

Wishing I’d see death less
and more days of happiness
for all the world’s children,
but I can always hear them
crying, begging, for heroes
who will save them.

Little girl amidst the wreckage
loves her people,
lives in fear of the evil
acts of other nations
as bombs burst her foundation,
and she is left feeling
lifetimes of devastation.

Years of boots on throats,
of truths I wrote
of true experiences
only slightly altered
by my lack of living in it.

but I can see the way they live it.
Fear, and sorrow, pain planted upon
the soft soil of childhood.

I can breathe but I
don’t think I should,
don’t think people are good
as other human beings suffocate
I don’t want to take their place,
but I would exchange pained
lungs and ease the air of despair
from their chest to mine
to give them time to repair
their hurting hearts
as they breathe in fresh oxygen.

I'm lonely
but only
temporarily
using these
words sparingly
as I search
this dark area
for some sign
of hope.

Weeping with pre-grief
because I see
uncertain future possibilities
as inevitable tragedies.

My brothers and sisters
seem strange and deranged,
lost in cycles of hate and pain
that drain the vein
of what’s humane.
  
So, I want to rewrite
the wiring inside
that has them dying
like others do
with withering emotions
that cause violence to brew
the kind that silences
the few who
would speak truth
about this mess.