writing death-charged poetry
with little need
to search for signs,
for inspiration,
for it is abundant
and can take any form you like:

the mustard seed of parables
the gloss of autumn
a folding chair
a list of designations
anything that is brewed
verse jumping to memory
a quick appreciation of all that Jesus did
knowing that the lines should continue
an abstract painting
that finds a place in your soul to claw
fear
the shear numbers of morning glories possible
the fun of knowing that your philosophy
begins where other peoples end
an empty strip found in a fortune cookie
as it did last night.

well, did everyone get what they wanted?
the human animal thrives on tragedy
where else to find courage, true altruism, compassion?
certainly not in any hum drum day
where else can we bend uncertain fact
to fit our biases?

******* up in this horrible media dripping wet society
man, it is horrible to hear one million takes
on a senseless bombing
it is numbing to hear such ooze

so here, as a self appointed talking head
the street of my opinion:
just as irrational as anything else

the tallow smoke of long ago
adds depth to skies endowed
with cherub banners that softly flow
on balconies of cloud

heralds blow their horn of shell
o’er foamy crashing wave
greeting Venus, fresh from spell
of nature’s high conclave

the fish at sea, the wing that soars
stare at this creation, rapt
at beauties birth, on painted shores
such magnificence, unwrapped

hung on a wall in gilded frame
new found meaning in myth awoke
by gods that carry out their name
my philosophy now at the baroque

Now Russell used 10 million word
and Keats a fraction there of
but their discovery can be heard
as they speak from high above.

To find the truth, you take the dare
and give it all ye might
and accept it’s empty stare
as ye face the cold black night

the rights to this poem belong exclusively to the author
the man with the drink in his hand
with scowls over chin
lock solid in his belief
tank tied into an intricate knot
as lovely as a flower
in equal permanence
by the theorized statement large
movement
is but the universe
looking back at itself

the sound of water the sight of trees
the crushing vice of memories
the hints of understanding led,
to declarations left unsaid
that skipped by meaning
and fled to feeling
a place that deserves little trust
sunbeams lead to floating dust

the business was built on the sacrifice of others
that offering of the pennies of the soul
for the dollar delivery of modern existence
the plan was growth eternal
the interpretation of ledgers of lined boxes
page after page bearing the fruit of profit
it worked and if it didn’t, a kick of more of the same
brought results
people are meant to toil
the human machine designed for dexterous  invention
where do dreams fit in ? why produce when you can deduce?
how can a concrete rationalization  be formed
that causes us to drive through a beautiful morning
only to land in a container
operated by a mystery toward an easily questioned goal
of daily bread in a world overflowing with abundance