but can it be transformed?
can the piles of bones form waves
and crash into beauteous palettes of marble?
can the deepening cracks in the concrete
be filled from the top and forgotten?
i think they would reappear much sooner.

lately it’s been good to think
and once the mind has wandered off
does it have the courage to stay lost?
because i think it’s funny –
the pain of trying to hard to find a place –
consumes the soul much more, it seems,
than thriving in the uncertainty
of being content while still feeling lost.

can the wires be untangled
if the ends are saudered shut?
can we pull apart the fibers
and recreate landscapes we thought
were places we’d like to visit.

i don’t want to believe the places i’ll find
are perfect mirrors at this point in time
and my arrival will shatter the equilibrium

but if that turns out,
i will hold my breath
and put the pieces back in a mosaic
and color the shards with my tears.

Can you not sense the undercurrent
an anger mutating over the nation.
That period before costs do excel
a deep dissatisfaction vented.
Massive job cuts told to restain
with warnings of future pain.

That inability to have any input
manipulated and being controlled.
Vote them in with their big promises
as politicians do what they want.
Despair as your finances disappear
truth a word you never hear.



This is a tale not only of one country
ever the widening divide.
The few continue reaping the rewards
the majority paying the cost.
The average guy is always bled dry
the wealthy staying that way being sly.

The undercurrent is beginning to vibrate
the population has had enough.
Those with plenty taking toomuch
from those with little to give.
The burden of debt has to be shared
or frustrations will be aired.
The Foureyed Poet.