i go through this daily plot
waking, working, trudging
first world ease, office walls
wheeled chairs

afternoon run
tupperware lunch
dinner the night before

home again, dinner
dishes again,
play again,
daughter picks up
new phrases, new looks
vegetable strainer toy
"umbrella," she says

i see those eyes, my wife's
and i wonder

what is this place?
these walls, these roads,
those sitka pines and shrinking
glaciers?

how 'm i supposed to be a father
with all these things stretching out
vaster than reason, than comprehension

those talking heads, ranting this or that
liberty's *****, freedom's snatched,
the world warms, the world cools

Filipinos scream in the face  of angry
winds, the prim cut weatherman wildly
gestures at a colorful map, powerful
he says, historic
he says

more dripping mouthes,
government want guns now,
more money to ****** our phones
to send unmanned drones

our president's muhammad,
or jesus, or kenyan, or raciest
a genius or incompetent
everyone knows

just back home
a tiny algae grows and foams
thrashing in the autumn water
brown oxygen choking life
never found on our shores before
kills fish,

i imagine so much more

i hold my daughter in my lap
reading mother goose,
run my hand through her
thin smooth hair,
sometimes afraid
of what she'll see and hear
with her mother's eyes
and her father's ears

I feel like a slow flying
bumble bee
staring at huge expanse of prairie
without a single flower

No longer let our voices fall to a whispering
march of death. Jam your baritones and
inflections through songs for a god gone
dead

Make the earth shudder under your footsteps
as you let the wind take the pages like
a flickering flame

Make your presence known through the howling
sleet and rain - scream in the faces of distorted
kings, spit on their robes and **** in their eyes

Cast your fury like the waves and witness the smoke
of god vanish in the shadow of a cat, feast upon the
words that wither like the grass

Smear the self indulgent prophets in sweat and mud,
drown the child of the Euphrates and **** on his
holy stone

Go horse in your burning wrath, ******* wretched
Isaiah, suffocate him in the wallowing tears of Job,
let the blood of your hatred flow like wine

Drink of your consummate supplication steeped
in rage and disgust.

Let it sustain you to shake the pillars
and columns of his temple to the ground

Dictate your commands and bask in the boundless
power your existence brings to bear upon the weak
and know you and the fake god you hate

are one.

*This is an old one from my depreciated poetry blog found here: http://www.letthewords.blogspot.com/

little tike,
kite thread,
strung out
pulling hands, body, fear
into sky, clouds, air,

beyond

chicken skin chill
wind shiver cold
fear

stop! mama! scream

little older now,
kites, dreams, birds, feathers
flights, mountain crags
song, soar

mama, now, screams
rolling, plywood floor
no kite, big hand man
grab, spit, roar

tears heave breath
face, mama hands
cry, side, no more
said to floor

metal fireplace
hot, don't touch,
arrow poke fire,
heavy hurt stick
**** big hand man
make mama scream
stop thumping body
slap, flesh, red burn

heavy arrow stick
fall down, thump
face, floor

big hand man
take, this or that
hot scrap belly
bone, angry kite
throw living-room
bed, heavy hands
burn bones, dreams
eyes

morning light
mama scoops
legs, arms, teddy

"we're getting out alright"

*subject matter partially stolen from http://hellopoetry.com/-peachy/

let's lick the cream of our dreams
off each other's faces and *****
and *******
of course!

let's free ourselves from dictums
of proper decorum - the this is right
and proper, the way to sway your hips,
to nod and smile politely,
so nicely

let's say freedom is a key on the piano
and we'll always hit the right tune

but,
let's love
our wives
our children
with cradles for arms
and hammocks for lips

let's rejoice in the spirits
of rolling naked souls
beneath and between
silken cloth

but,
embrace the sanctity of devotion
of love
of family

let's sweat and breath as one,
on one another, as if the planet
and each other are near drowning
     which is true
     in more than one sense

let's smack our chops
and hold our breath
at the **** beauty
of dressing and *******
morning and night
in soft shades of light

and
not forget the threads that
bind us to earth, to one another

let's live and remember

read it in the leaves of grass
withering as the time goes
marching past

we've sung of ourselves,
total selves, man and woman one,
******* plumes of white cloudy
dreams into the holy skies,
total consummation,
writhing pleasure lips,
part smile, part begging,
total self-adulation

but,
the grass withers my old friend
those fields, tepid pools of oil
our skies, churning ebbs of burning progress

a civil war roils,
just beyond our yard
remnants of it tumbling within the square boxes
we worship for their divertive power

no longer brothers and fathers
north and south, pounding powder death

but,
mothers killing mothers,
fathers murdering their unborn
sons and daughters

a generation of human flesh
eats the soil of the earth,
drinks the blood of its rivers,
plunges its arms deep within
the arteries of the land pulling
forth trinkets and black milk
to feed our steel cattle
to ***** towering mirrors of our
false power and prestige and progress
and prowess of mind and prudence of judgment

no, no, no! lies of a blathering ***** unhinged,
we scream at our total selves, man and woman one,
this is not the song i intended to sing

oh, my capital J
i wish to love you

wish to relish
with heavy breath
your bumbling
word clippings

as mr. ryles
would say

i'd clean after your
sweaty pen's scribbles

dripping monolithic
red yellow green blue
onto the
black pupil,
white globe
of my eye

but,
blink
your lines go by
i feel no different,
no freer, no lighter
no angrier

just sadder, that such
blather, such
depthless flat
colored words
are mistaken for

poetry

have you not heard,
the brown thrush's song,
while drifting off in your father's
arms?

she sings for you and for me
about the ruby colored dawn,
bursting upon the nest of the earth,
overflowing with joy, with life
for you and for me

i want to love you J
through your words,
i really do

but sentimental odes are not made
with shapeless rocks for words, nor
butter knives for tools

sharpen your wits
****** your words
i wait to love you
through your words