creates our universe
our gods
makes armies clash
defines our world
    always again and new
names everything
   we then can talk about

lets politicians sound as if
    they were our saviors
lends voice to protests
    also well-phrased obedience
articulates all complicated laws
    and sometimes even makes them clear
makes us hate people
    or fall crazily in love with them

more difficult, it seems,
is to find words for our hearts and souls

    how to express your love
    appropriate to the occasion

    or to describe a painting by Degas,
    Rubens, Kokoschka, Michelangelo,
    the impact of a symphony
    or a performance on the drama stage
    
to catch the words for what we feel
is much more difficult
than to imagine those for what we see

it is the poets’ challenge to give shape
to all the hopes, loves, fears, and phantasies
in our lives

so we can make the power of the word
the power of the world

like many stoutly claim
    as members of some Christian faith
love our neighbors as we love ourselves

then why do we look down on those
    of different creeds and cultures
    skin color, clothes, or hats
suggest to keep them out by building walls,
suspect them of barbarian ways,
let them drown,
put them in camps,
build fences,
stop them at our borders,
prefer
   in short
to have them elsewhere

maybe we should love ourselves much more
so we can better love
the tired, hungry, and the poor
who come to our shores and borders
     in search of safety and shelter,
     freedom, and human dignity

let us remain easy, and truer
to the spirit of our Liberty,
remembering our heritage
     and that of our parents
     and their parents
most likely immigrants from somewhere
looking for a better place
    to have a life and rear their children

it helps to see our neighbors as our friends
rather than enemies
and love them like we love ourselves

If the sun shone a little less you would leave it behind
If the moon became unfaithful you would abandon your forgiveness

Sometimes life forgets to keep on living
If only death could forget to keep on dying
I wish our breath could part ways with the kinship of sighing

And that disappointment would move just a few doors down

While there is hope in need of mending
Stitching together a promise that never stopped believing in the hem of tomorrow
I, yes I… have found a friend in the depths and lakes of sorrow

So my dove
Won’t you swim good
And carry us straight on til morning    

"My Dove" -JP

719

A South Wind—has a pathos
Of individual Voice—
As One detect on Landings
An Emigrant’s address.

A Hint of Ports and Peoples—
And much not understood—
The fairer—for the farness—
And for the foreignhood.

Once again, I put paper to pen
I think of all the times I've wanted to quit
But there was still a rhyme scheme in my head
And oppritunity in bright seductive red

Off in the distance, but I can see it
Its only interested in poets with cranial diseases
It knows of self doubts and coyly plays
Among the pink labyrinth of our brains

She is beautiful and rare
She is destructive and snares
But she is momentum and change
A swinging gate of every phase

tachyphylaxis - tach·y·phy·lax·is (tāk'ə-fĭ-lāk'sĭs)  n.
1.    A rapidly decreasing response to pleasure following initial administration.

I didn’t know this
demon had a name.
Ugly as it is it fits,
a random mish-mash
of unpleasant sounds
and equal unpleasantness
felt.

I’ve known the *******
forever, manifest in vitamin cures
and psychological processes,
SSRI’s and stabilizers.

He attends to the end of
affectionate loving and all
the designer vacations
you've ever taken.

He is the golden handcuffs of
square foot home ownership
and his business cards are
set in silver.

To put it bluntly
his continuous presence
is intent on destruction
of any contentment.

He is all things along the way
that appear so promising at first
but never last.

Synonymous with tolerance,
antonymous with precedence,


the antagonistic leaven of all living.