Sunlight streams through trees
Kissing the soft chocolate ringlets strewn across
his cheeks
They lay together,
a blanket beneath them
and the bluest sky, beautiful overhead.

Her breath steals
a question
from his eyes;
warm, green pools of heaven.
And he leans upward to capture
her answer
with his softly loving lips.

And there they remain;
lost yet found
swimming in each other's souls
till the sunlight fades
and their love is written by constellations.

What a fool I was , undignified
to light one up at the funeral,
the mourners gasped, as I blew you that
one last shotgun , as I promised you
I would that day we met in April
1967 at the love-in
on the hill the new rock bands playing
songs of peace and love so beautiful
the flowers and  kisses being gave
out so freely and we got so high
promised if you died I'd give you one
last shotgun to take you smiling out
to wherever it is ole' hippies
go

This is the age of tragedy
we are drowned
in the sea of technology-

nothing matters now--only
devices, gadgets, machines, contraptions
that claim: 'We'll make you happy'

This is the age of tragedy
blown over a thousand times Orwellian prophecy
none is free--everyone is subject to the minutest scrutiny

We regard ourselves smart--or supposedly-
but prostrate before that highest authority
faceless, feelingless,  mute,  the ubiquitous and iniquitous LED

This is our self-afflicted tragedy
in our proclamation: ' Progress, progress at any cost'--
we have lost our entire humanity

When you are in tears and your heart is heavy
help is on hand, you won't be lonely
just flick the switch,  browse over Wiki.

i am a wound
a wound
on the side of the earth
that it would scratch
if it could

perhaps
i am so miniscule
it does not want to waste
the energy it would take
to ***** me out

for now
i am waiting
waiting for the day
in which i am scratched
off the face of the planet
for good