If Trump is elected President I'm going to get up at six and feed the hens , plant a row of okra come Springtime and grease the tractor that same evening .. Should it be Sanders I'll build cages for Big Boys , go to the lake for a stringer of bluegills and walk barefooted the whole time I'm doing it .. In case it's Clinton I'll be plowing from morning to Noon , stopping for a few figs and a cherry tomato or two ...
If it's Cruz you'll find me picking the blues on a brown guitar , eating Spanish olives like their going out of style , shoring up chicken wire to fend off 'critters' , nipping on Wild Turkey to ease my blisters ....

You forget there's a sky above
Birds don't chirp trees are few
Gone is the hamlet that shaped your love
For a blade of grass cries the morn dew.

Mesh of wires runs over the sky
Air is thick with the reek of petrol
Scare you the trucks heavily passing by
Dazedly you search for the village of the ole.

Here was the home your soul's green abode
Where winter was cold March sprightly Spring
Your feet ran the soil not dusty metaled road
Dreams soared high on boundless wide wing.

Now all around are the townsfolk on race
Ruthless pace crushing ole hamlet's peace
But so is fated by the wheels of progress
That shows the gain more than all that you miss.

When you feel that you're worn
Slap down to the bone
With no earthly way
That you can go on

When you feel you can't face
Another day
When the troubles of life
Seem to get in the way

That's when there's a clear
Word from the Lord
The race is not long
Run hard

When the encouragement you need
Seldom is seen
And the courage you have
Escapes from the melee

When you have no more strength
In which to carry
When turmoil and strife
Is all that you see

That's when there's a clear
Word from the Lord
The race is not long
Run hard

When you find that life
Has both a bark and a bite
And you're not sure anymore
That you're able to fight

When most of your time's spent
On wobbly knees
And you come to the point
Where you give up on your "me"

That's when there's a clear
Word from the Lord
The race is not long
Run hard

ocean...

its sound.
the word's.

a suspension
as if you'd
hear your name out loud
somewhere in nowhere,

a rumbled whisper
as if you'd
stumble and fall,

the seashell out of reach,
there, on the edge.

ocean...

I wrapped all my nonsense in brown paper tied with string
and threw it in an imaginary canal weighted down with a brick.
A big part of me drowned in the murky dirt filled depths,
but slowly and surely my nonsense seeped back out, infecting all the fish.
And the fish made no sense, telling each other nonsense, in a poets breath.

Lady night offers her generosity
as the stars twinkle in syncopation for me.
Shadow-clad silhouettes...
Their gaits mysterious.
The night lights trail into the depths of my eyes.
Burning away the seconds, so effortless.

The quietness...
Willing forth dishevelled reflections...
Of unkempt emotions.
Allowing a barrage...
Of thoughts and notions that span
over night and day.

So that they could...
Be conveyed through paper and screen.
So that I could...
Share with you what I intimately mean.
The unforgiving onslaught of ideas and feelings
I bravely conjured...
But too afraid to say.