Friday,
Though like other days in dress,
Is a cluster of moments
When mercy downpours on our dry hearts
And kindles a new hope for being more spiritual

They are wild things
Sometimes, I swear
I need a shotgun
but so as not –
to hurt the words

I hack them out of weeds
Break the ice to drag them out
Throw rocks at them in trees

Turn around three times fast
and collapse
Sometimes I catch one
still spinning dizzy
floating circle-words in breeze

I command nothing

The poems always have their way

I command nothing!

Not love –  Not time –  Nor hate
Nor sun –  
but the moon-rise –  
maybe

...in dream-light

It was an awful time
In a regime of crime;
Of robber barons who
Increased the taxes to
Barricade their homes
And set thieves to roam
So they could all carve
The poor and let them starve.

The poor, so sick and dull,
Felt they were being pulled
Between half-truths and lies
That were all disguised
As the loving benefactions
And the word of some god
From ancient lost times
Imported from The Land Of Odd.

It was a scary times of idols
With feet of pond slime who
Confused the people and
Took their civil rights too
And stole their pensions
And their insurance away;
Would not protect them
No matter what folks would say.

The poor, so sick and dull,
Felt they were being pulled
Between half-truths and lies
That were all disguised
As the loving benefactions
And the word of some god
From ancient lost times
Imported from The Land Of Odd.

It was a horrible time here
When leaders didn’t lead
Or see to what those who
Had elected them might need.
The stupid poor watched as
The nation slowly eroded away.
What a sad tale of a sad land.
The land is us and it was just yesterday.

It was an awful time
In a regime of crime;
Of robber barons who
Increased the taxes to
Barricade their homes
And set thieves to roam
So they could all carve
The poor and let them starve.

It flies amongst the stars.
Flashes for a moment.
Despite the left scars.
Holds a place close, yet far.

It carries the fallen.
From mistaken paths.
To reaches impossible.
And develops new plans.

It creates new countries.
Raises dead soldiers.
Stamps unsung heroes.
With a feeling of free.

Hear its silent sound.
Open up your eyes.
Place it in your heart.
Elevate from the ground.

It helps us climb.
Better than rope.
Do you see its shape?
It is hope.

Here’s to the boy
who waited for a girl
on his front door step
until she came home
after leaving without sound

Here’s to the girl
who has to hide her urges
behind a glass door
the strength to put down the razor
after shaving her legs

Here’s to the girl
who receives deluded comments
on the length of her skirt
from her own mother

Here’s to the boy
who didn’t have a father growing up
but is teased
because he’s more comfortable being friends with girls

Here’s to the girl
who finds solace
in people who are temporary

Here’s to the boy
that doesn’t feel safe
in his own home

Here’s to all the kids
who have been told it is wrong to feel
the way they feel
like our emotions are fishhooks
that need to be
reeled in

Here’s to you
Here’s to me
Here’s to anyone who has ever had
their heart crushed beneath the heel
of someone they loved

You are loved
You are important
You’ve made it this far
and you can make it even farther
have strength
and

Here’s to you

he had affixed green eyes
glazed but lively
i saw something in them
soulful
perhaps bruised

scared to touch
harmonic veins ran through his frame
he radiated blind beauty with every step

he was the animate version of all my hopes and dreams
and here he was
with me
how heartbreakingly beautiful
i could never be what he deserves