you are so enamoured
with the honey on her lips

you don’t realize that mine
taste just as sweet

I am  law
in your life;

you can  jump
high and long,

even  grow
wings, but

there is no
escape,

you will
return.

This elegant bloom
forgot the season
came stocked for summer idylls
picnics by the water's edge
scent of mowed fields
scent of love's flowering.

Pitiful rose
how did you become
so lost in time?
Nothing now becomes you.

So I carefully cut
the stem
placed your ******* vein
in a slender jar
filled with
the last spring's freshet.

You came to life
for us
at Christmas time.
A meager blessing
in a time of pain.
A frail totem
in a time of dread.

I wake each day
with despair eating at
my good spirits
the specter of
a new political order
crouching in the darkest corners
of my place of rest.

******* it!
Send that orange horror
into oblivion.
******* monster
robbing my nights of peace.

There is no sense to this life.
There is rhyme without reason,
pain without relief.

Just the same
I will slog on.
One foot in front of
the other.
Repeating as necessary.
And then letting it go
through the latched gate of time.

A young boy embraces life, fearless!
He knows NOT the pain that's coming.
He lives, for now, in his cocoon

protected

Years go by, protection is lifted.
The world seeps through the cracks
introducing fear and self-doubt.

His once free-spirit, wanes!
He waits for loving words,

They
       rarely
                 come

What does come, often with intensity,
Are words and actions validating humanity's darkness.
Pressing into him, bringing crushing pain.
Stabbing his heart, his tender heart!

Slowly, without realizing,
he retreats from this world.
Loneliness becomes his

playmate

A cruel playmate for sure.

Now as a grown man,
He finds himself shy, tentative.
Lessons revealed and learned.

You pass him on the street,
None of his tenderness appears,
His heart tucked away,

protected!

He fears exposing even one more time,
The part of him that's most vulnerable.
His tender heart.

Better to just leave it hidden ...

Pass me the vase, will you dear
I've picked some flowers to place in it
They are purple, yellow, white and red
Don't they just make you smile

I will place them by your bed
So when you retire for the night
You won't miss the beauty
That's painted on their faces

Take a moment, will you
To appreciate their worth
Lean in close and take a sniff
Their fragrance is most genuine

And as you wake, remember
I've placed those flowers there
For you to enjoy and adore
If only for a season

There are plenty of diseases around, take
an American motel room, shine an
ultraviolet on wall switches,
pillows, see seminal fluid
& mucus splotched like
a Jackson *******,
these are seen,

now,  flick a light & open your eyes
& recognize the overt sickness of
racism, spread  like jam
across American
bread, widely
viewed,
unseen.