~

Painted in a corner

Smeared about the floor

Chants of lone forgiveness

Quiet in the war



“Deafening the sound of death”



Garden roses trampled

Broken stems abound

Wilting on the visions

Blooming losses found



“Petals of peace scattered carelessly”



Blood along the pathway

Eyes hid in the mist

Penning someone else’s name

On this lengthy list



“Alphabetical to the grave”



Standing from the shadows

Crossing battle lines

Reaching for the freedom

Voices loud can find



“Speak up children, your voices matter”



Put aside your weapons

Time has come to cease

The nation now has gathered

United prayer for peace



*“On our hands and knees we pray… send the evil far away”

Torn away from his two loving parents,
And put on display in a zoo,.
Gus suffered from chronic depression
A white bear with black moods, sad but true.
He’d swim figure eight’s by the hour,
as if stuck in a Mobius strip.
Zoo officials called it a neurosis
But were worried their bear just might flip.
A consultant said Gus had depression
And collect a munificent fee.
Gus would be treated with Prozac
And be as happy a bear as can be.

When Desmond Fitzgerald succumbed to disease

his hereditary knighthood expired.

He had fathered no son to take up his sword.

No heir means the title’s retired.

For eight hundred years and twenty nine scions

The grand clan Fitzgerald held sway.

Now with his last breath, no successor is left

So, with honors, he’s buried today.



The green knight of Kerry is still in the field,

The last Irish knight in the fray.

Not that he sallies forth swinging a sword.

He sits home and drinks sherry all day.

Back when Bedlam was in full swing,
and faced with overload,
some lunatics who hadn't killed
were forced to hit the road..
Faced with no "room at the inn"
such persons were discharged
but were made known to the police
as "Lunatics at large"

Since Willow brook has closed its doors,
and Creedmore has downsized,
we give our mentally ill some pills
and house them 'neath the skies.

They mutter to themselves at times
as lonely they do roam
in search of a dry underpass
that must  serve them for a home.

How wonderful that modern drugs
makes zombies of our brothers,
and leave us blithely unaware
of how badly we treat others.

The Mongols swept down from the North
across the Persian plains
They massacred those who did not flee
and left their homes in flames.
The libraries that heretofore
were Persia's pride and joy
Were valueless as plunder
to the rapacious Golden Horde.
So that is why the buildings burned
and the rivers turned to black
as priceless volumes bled to death
discarded  in the Horde's attack.
A learned culture was destroyed
and never made it back
in the land that is a crossroads
and which is now known as Iraq.