English seems not his native language
Destroying grammar and meaning
His ear to steve bannnon’s right-leaning
Propaganda’s ignorance offends

Denying evidence and logic
Tweets, “These leakers are disgusting!”
Dodging questions is your main project
“Is Truth already dead?” Time portends

The Beast In the Face of Evil says
Protestors get paid to protest
But the POTUS is wearing no clothes
Like a Preschool Playhouse Let’s pretend

“I’m President”, (straight from Chevy Chase),
“and you’re NOT you know."

You pillage our planet for profit
While Fake Fox News snidely jokes
An Inconvenient Truth is made-up
Calling the science a hoax

Climate-denying allies in congress
Big Oil’s purchase-every one
Selling our children’s future for profit
No turning back once it’s done

Rip the last drop of oil from our Mother
Privatise all our Public Lands
Open all wild places to destruction
Blood money into so few hands

Deny all the earthquakes and forest fires
Damage from your chemical fracking
That secret formula legislated
Without a majority’s backing

For those who work to safeguard our planet
I support the Standing Rock Sioux
So many assaults our outrage must save
Bristol Bay-stop Pebble Mine, too

Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight;
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of morn.

It can’t be bought or sold
It never grows too old
It’s hearing an old song
A friend who’s long since gone
A clear starful of sky
A baby’s first shrill cry
It’s never losing hope
Though in the dark you *****
It comes just to remind us
Of all that is behind us
It’s all we see and feel
Christmas is very real

I can’t take Sam off speed dial
I’m expecting his call
Especially Sunday mornings
Warming up, stretching tall

That’s when he always calls me
Though sometimes I call him
Now twenty Sundays have passed
My chances getting slim

I can’t delete my brother
I’m still yearning for his call
He owes me one, even though
He died one Sunday last fall

I've been married for 25 years
Though some have said that I blew it
Many laughs and tears, but only one child
And took 3 husbands to do it.

I see the vision of my soul
A breath, a glimpse as pure as gold
The light illuminates my mind
And in your tender love I enfold

I close my eyes to better see
My heart is open, lips are sealed
Right to my inner higher place
Where new perspectives are revealed

In the innermost part of my being
I pray to let go of any resistance
And I feel such peace washing over me
As I recognize love behind all existence

I’d never met Mr. Campbell
Or heard of Mr. Stone,
But now I’ve ceased to ramble,
They’ve provided me a home.
A place for old and older,
Not poor or broke nor rich.
For meek and mild and bolder,
It runs without a hitch.

A bus to take us shopping
Or cruising to the mall,
And even island hopping
There’s something for us all.
Pat Pepper keeps us busy,
Not anchored to a chair
Al Widener’s in a tizzy
If we’re not happy there.

The staff is neat and clever
At Bradshaw’s restaurant
I plan to stay forever,
‘Cause it’s my favorite haunt.
No need to roam or gamble
For we are not alone,
God bless you Mr. Campbell
God keep you Mr. Stone

When I retire in Ireland
I'll be fit and sixty-five
Then I'll ride the DART for free
and explore the country-side

I'll rent an old thatched cottage
Buy a bicycle with gears
Tool along Connor Pass Road
Out to ******, drink some beers

Eating the Irish breakfasts
Drinking too much Guinness to mention
Uncle Sam sends my Social Security
I'll collect my teacher's pension

Mornings I'll write a novel
About my Irish sojourn
A boat to Blasket Islands
Some Gaelic I'll be learnin'

I'll check my geneology
The DART to Cork and I go
Fitzpatrick's, a talented family,
Doctors, fighters, writers in the know

Always an ear to the music
Familiar faces all around
Perhaps some long lost relatives
Still in Cork who could be found

Yes, I'm in love with Ireland
The Cliffs of Moher call to me
I'll go hiking west of Doolin
Rent an apartment in Dun Laoghaire (dun leary)

Jordy does her yoga
Greets me smiling
Taking flight
Legs and arms akimbo
Picks the music
That she'd like
Yes she can be picky
She’s a Princess
No disguise
Keeps her posse jumping
When she flashes
Big brown eyes
Jordy, little sister
Halfway woman
Halfway child
Can be temperamental
Has a hissy
When she’s riled
She likes watching Ninjas
Leaping so high
Just like them
She has us all beguiled
Jordy Nicole
Never mild
She saw Ziggy Marley
At Sunfest
What a mob
Yet she prefers his father
The first Marley
She loves Bob

She knows exactly how the world works
Shares her well-read cynical voice
She wishes for miracles coming
Not believing our leader’s choice

She’s longing for Swords into Ploughshares
All words of war she cannot bear
Doesn’t trust The United Nations
Declares we haven’t got a prayer

The world’s Toolbox of Diplomacy
Lets foxes design the henhouse
She knows the top 3 richest people
Have more than HALF of everyone else

She shows how to make her life richer
Not relying on someone else
Has no sentimental view of life
Fully acquainted with herself

Challenging ANYONE’S opinion
Firing people up with the facts
She predicts trump’ll be on Mount Rushmore
His Nobel Peace Prize on his back

I’d never met Mr. Campbell
Or heard of Mr. Stone,
But now I’ve ceased to ramble,
They’ve provided me a home.
A place for old and older,
Not poor or broke nor rich.
For meek and mild and bolder,
It runs without a hitch.

A bus to take us shopping
Or cruising to the mall,
And even island hopping
There’s something for us all.
Pat Pepper keeps us busy,
Not anchored to a chair
Al Widener’s in a tizzy
If we’re not happy there.

The staff is neat and clever
At Bradshaw’s restaurant
I plan to stay forever,
‘Cause it’s my favorite haunt.
No need to roam or gamble
For we are not alone,
God bless you Mr. Campbell
God keep you Mr. Stone

Extend a hand to yourself
Helpful, tender and warm
Giving yourself a high-five
Doing yourself no harm

Raise both hands, disarm yourself
Feel peace from hands to heart
Show some enthusiasm
Before your day can start

Hug both shoulders give a squeeze
Close your eyes with a sigh
Feeling your love with each breath
Even if you cry

Entwine your fingers, press palms
In gratitude for
Having come this far
While still wanting more

Give yourself a round of applause
Feel the joy indeed
Perhaps a pat on your shoulder
May be all you need

My name is Terry Fitzpatrick
I see familiar faces all around
Perhaps some long lost relatives
Still in County Cork who could be found

My grandfather, James William Fitzpatrick
Made his way to South Boston, Mass,
Just like thousands of Irish refugees
Was looked down upon as low class

“We don’t hire the Irish”
Signs posted on many a door
So he played piano and wrote songs
To feed his family of four

Side by Side and Beer Barrel Polka
Were 2 of his most famous songs
He sold the rights for so little
Few dollars, no credit, so wrong...

He had left County Cork in a hurry
Like thousands forced to leave town
His family, I’m told, were horse thieves
But The Famine’s what took them down

The Troubles continued in Boston
Fifty years before the Kennedys were crowned
My Grandfather kept drinking and singing
Grandmother died young without a sound

One of their 4 sons was my father
Clifford Joseph then had 4 sons and me
I’m proud of my Irish heritage
First one back to visit since 1893

Give me life in easy doses
Pieces I can swallow
I could bear the contradiction
Living without sorrow

Mixing grit with poignancy
Keeping me wrought up inside
Not without a grain of salt
Repress what can be denied

Reframing to simplicity
Complexity loses clout
Reconstruction reaps benefits
Eliminating all doubt

Feeling my poetic license
I stopped correcting mistakes
Seeing no ambiguity
Nor courage to hit the brakes

Cleaving to Imagination
In denial I wallow
I can’t bear that contradiction
No joy without the sorrow

Relentless traffic blight
Despite that fight
No snow or ice
Here it's quite
Paradise

However I wasted my younger days
Wherever I wiled away precious hours
Whenever I gazed at the moon and stars
Whatever games that we played and pondered
Whichever adventure we went on then
Is exactly where my mind still wanders

Whoever I kissed and then held hands with
Whatever the spell from the sounds and smells
Whenever my heart was soundly broken
However I try silencing this hell
Wherever that loss is newly spoken
Whichever place causes the freshest pain

Whenever I think of the time in flight
By mistake flew into forbidden space
When 2 jets flanking me motioned us down
How they saw us as Eco-Terrorists
Flying to LosAlamos Power Plant
Where it is strictly restricted airspace

Whenever dad left-once on Christmas eve
However it unfolded felt tragic
Whatever Christmas comes around again
Whoever toasts to the joy of the day
Whatever the chance, gone was the magic
Whichever way we celebrate today

Whichever day Mother's Day comes around
Whoever I'm with matters not a bit
However I remember that morning
While feeding our son, “I love you”, you said
Then later, “I don't want to be married...
Anymore.”  That pain floods like tsunamis

However I try to stay in the now
Whenever the calendar reminds me
How my favorite youngest brother died
Whatever the details I sorely pine
Thinking of Sam this 4th of July
When he would have been turning 59

However my days have been wiled away
How often revealing one simple truth
*Where your treasure is, will your heart be, too  (Matthew 6:21)

I got locked out of the house today
While feeding my cat on the porch
In a bathrobe without my purse
No phone, no key, barefoot of course

So I sprinted to the driveway
Where my man was still backing out
Engrossed in checking his emails
He must have missed my screaming shout

Backed out all the way to the street
His eyes ahead in the early dawn
He didn't see my panicky dance
Off to work, in a flash, he was gone

Despite my last ditch effort
Racing after him down the street
He never looked back, not once
I was abandoned with ****** feet

It's only half past 7am
Time to problem-solve my way inside
Even though I had a ladder to climb
Every lock and bolt let all hope die

That day I spent on the patio
Long and hot it was to be sure
Feeling neglected and left behind
I cried a few tears in a blur

Then I did some overdue yard work
Drank out of the hose like my dog
Relaxed in the hammock instead of lunch
Dozed off in an afternoon fog

Til I found a book on reflexology
I'd been meaning to read for so long
Practiced a few techniques on my cat
And planned how I'd tell Bill he'd done me wrong

Last night I dreamed and when I woke
Your kiss still floating on my lips
Together in my dream of waves
You spoke of darting sharks that shared our bliss

The air was fresh with salted spray
Mingled with our skin, hair and breath
Unbridled passion all the way
While sleeping feeling a short death

My misty dream still lingered on
Of loves’s desire, all I missed
Our path emerges comes the dawn
Awakened on my lips, your kiss

Stop.  March!  Won’t America stand?
We’re listening.  Try pulling open
Hear source device
Pain pleasure journey inherited
Life lesson posse, turn away edge
Maybe rage offering dashed despair
Meek crashed.  Face aware.
Forced push depending
Strive.  weep.  stride.  Laugh.
Sure, seek.  pass highs.
What’s truth?  
Slice fired investigators
Suspicious, merciless House
****** time gathering law
Easy used evening clues
Taste Democracy news
POTUS does past reckoning
Keeps tweeting…beating…******…drop
Checks chanting window
Collusion breathing lies!
Enemy jaw pulse come-uppance…
Trump’s troubles, Hope coming
Sweet feel

Having an M.I.
Ambulance to JFK
Cardiac cath stat!

Andre Bocelli
Our seats remained empty for
Open heart surgery

Next to CCU
Waiting in the fam'ly lounge
Wanting just good news

Here at JFK
Dr. Lancelot Lester
Mended his poor heart

He won't even know
What day it is tomorrow
Morphine works so well

You won't even know
That I'm staying close by you
While wiping your brow

Post-op time so tough
You must never say out loud
Oh, no, PVC's!

Let his sternum heal
Start on a special diet
When can we have ***?

Judas is in the White House
Putin put him in
trump says our White House is a dump
The job’s too much for him

The Arms Industry bankrolled
To help elect trump
The nra buys congress
Tells them how to jump

Charlottesville a turning point
One death you don’t mind?
Chanting with tiki torches
trump declared they’re fine!

trump never mentions weapons
Military grade
Hidden guns-arm the teachers!
Hopes debate will fade…

Weapons of war on our streets
The gun culture rampant
More important than our kids?
THE 2ND AMENDMENT

Each day she came to volunteer
In my classroom-10115
Was the day that always ran smoother
Lifting our spirits when she arrived

She pitched in wherever the need was
Above and beyond-no less
From “circle” to water play to puppet shows
Even reaching the bottom pile on my desk

Remember our wonderful yoga class
Showing kids how to do spinal twist
While checking off all she accomplished
From all the many tasks on my list

She videotaped kids doing yoga
Decorated kid art on the wall
She needed a nap after all this
But then off to shop Costcos-our mall

I hope she can hear these accolades
She’s terrific, the greatest, a dear
So thoughtful, dependable and loving-
Please remember to come back next year!

by Lisa Olstein

Stranger, mislaid love, I will
sleepwalk all night not girlish
but zombie-like, zombie-lite
through the streets in search of
your arms. Let’s meet at dawn
in the park to practice an ancient art
while people roll by in the latest
space-age gear blank as mirrors
above the procedure in the stainless
steel theaters where paper-gowned
we take ourselves to take ourselves
apart. Tap-tap-spark. So little blazes.
Cover the roofs with precision hooves.
Push back the forest like a blanket.
A bird the right color is invisible,
only movement catches the eye.
My most illustrious Lord, I know
how to remove water from moats
and how to make an infinite number
of bridges. Here we are at the palace.
Here we are in the dark, dark woods.

70 trillion options
For one human to be born
Birth and grief so intertwined
So surprised when left to mourn

How many yearn for heaven
Taking comfort they’ll no longer grieve
I’m in love with Earth’s delights
Finding Paradise among the trees

Breathing night-blooming jasmine
Painted skies crimson and gold
I take a deep breath to inhale Peace
Letting go of what’s got hold

Just a splendid accident?
86 billion neurons firing
Exploring the mysteries
While we’re creating and inspiring

70 trillion choices
How one's specific DNA moves
I wonder how all that’s determined
Is it you God who gets to choose?

At a gypsy’s stall in Soria, Spain
It was a beautiful market day
His tables were filled with French made shoes
Recommended by our friend Renaye

A cute pair of shoes caught Bernadette’s eye
They were ******* with 2 brocade bows
All covered with pink and orange flowers
With low heels and gold-tipped pointed toes

“No mas”, said he, there was no size forty
Only Bern found those shoes in her size
Then we happily tried on so many
Buying 6 pair we thought were great buys

Counting our shoes 2 by 2 into bags
The gypsy’s crooked smile seemed funny
We both grinned, too, with all our swell new shoes
Purchased with sixty euros of our money

Strolling we stopped at the York seeking churros
Too late, we had fresh croissants instead
I decided to try on my new sandals there
That led right to the trouble, Bern said

While awaiting the bus to the village
We both carefully held all our shoes
And watched a man with a rose in his teeth
I asked why, but not given a clue

Once arriving back home to the village
Feeling quite tired from walking around
Bern showed her shoes to Jose at the bar
Sad to learn one shoe couldn’t be found!

Yes, we retraced our steps in search of it
And twice-to check at the York- someone ran
Jose searched the bus, but right from the start
She thought she’d been scammed by the gypsy man

We had to go back, only on Thursday
A leisurely pace, eating churros
Yes we did get the shoe but discovered
We were over-charged by 20 euros

Nomad

In a time of faint beasts, no room
is left in the boats. With thin hands,

we huddle sheep and dip a hundred
reeds in mud. The nets wheel away

so often now, sinking through days
poured furious over threshing feet.

As though dared in a foreign tongue
to knot our sleeves, we swim through

broken oars, shout off slender days.
Snakes may cling to trees, and men

tear at bread, but the sky stays hinged.
Only heaven is full of furniture.

We harness ourselves over and over,
wherever hope is a yellow shore.

Mesmerizing Goddess
Anathema to all fear
And fractured disbelief
Storehouse of magical power
Perfect simplicity
Satisfaction guaranteed
With brave and lovely things
In the hearts of those seeking
Cosmic celtic woman
Cultivating consciousness
of inexhaustable bliss
Awaiting, She will come to you.

trump better watch out
he better not cry
Better not shout
Impeachment is nigh
More indictments coming-no doubt!

Conspiracy lists
Repeating them thrice
Gonna tweet out
What’s naughty, not nice…
donald trump’s Impeachment’s in town!

We see you when you’re tweeting
We know that you’re up late
We see that you’re a shameless hood
Can’t be good for goodness sake!

Oh! trump’s Treason’s come out
he’s starting to cry
he already shouts
Calls putin his guy…
donald trump-on Airforce One-leaves town!

If I always seek other’s approval
I’ll make myself a slave
Believing life’s a struggle always brings
Obstacles in my way

If I never surrender my ego
No security or peace
If I keep trying to control others
Enlightenment can’t be reached

Refusing to turn over a new leaf
I’ll never stretch to new heights
Only feeling my separateness prevents
My connection with all types

If I never face things that are difficult
I’ll never see easy times
If I always project blame on others
I’ll live to deny my crimes

If I cannot acknowledge my mistakes
I’ll never feel forgiven
If I am governed by intolerance
I’ll always be fear-driven

If I always must make the first move then
I won’t learn to wait or stay
If I always compete just to win then
I won’t feel the joy of play

If I act like I know all the answers
I won’t know questions to ask
If I pretend to be somebody else
I won’t know myself at last

If I always insist on the last word
To prove the points I defend
I’ll never be someone’s beloved or
Ever earn respect from friends

If I love clinging to my possessions
I’ll never learn how to lose
I hold fast to inflexibility
With only my way to choose

If I never laugh spontaneously
I’ll miss out on how freeing
A good belly laugh is great medicine
Re-charging my whole being

If I can’t feel life’s pain and sorrow then I
Won’t feel comforted or soothed
If I hold back feeling vulnerable
I’ll never feel deeply moved

If I don’t expect my voice to be heard
I’ll never know true expression
If I never define who I am then
Who will plot my direction?

If I never speak up and go along
Always swayed by a stronger voice
Losing a piece of myself one by one
And making no choice is a choice

I’ll be sold down the river easily
Without values life’s a waste
Avoiding all struggles I’ll never know
There’s no problem that can’t be faced

Always charging through life at breakneck speed
Living like push comes to shove
Staying a slave to accolades I will
Confuse approval with love

Off balance, I avoid helping others
Never jump in with both feet
If I never embrace this life wholly
I won’t know when times are sweet

I refuse to cultivate tenderness
I hide my feelings with lies
I’ll never learn the blessings of failure
Being so brittle, I’ll die

She heard the cry of her soul
With gory limbs akimbo
Asking for some help
From her, just to remember

She took that journey inward
Seeking God right in the zone
She was filled with more beauty
Than she had ever known

She wants the crown of roses
Stripped of all its thorns
Instead of constant sorrow
That she always mourns

Between her load of laundry
A walking meditation
Weeding out thoughts of terror
To quell her trepidation

An arsenal of anger
She can't stop stoking higher
Enslavement to her malcontent
Keeps fueling the fire

Relentless blame, resentments
Color every word she speaks
She won't staunch the flow of blood
Coursing through her rosy cheeks

Be still and know just how to go
When invited to the Feast
She remembered where she'd been
In her heart pure Love and Peace

I've had enough
Tired of mediating with your worst self
Hoping to meet a fleeting best self
I'm sick of providing insurance
To your denied reality
Weary of walking on eggshells
Agonizing over spirited outbursts
Accepting overdue apologies
For being called stupid, a terrible wife
One occasional day of closeness shattered
By 10 days of strife
Negating my sweet Renegade
My music, my hair, my whole life!
Does putting me down keep you up?
Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde take turns with me
My dilemma, knowing WHO you'll           be.

I let go this moment
A bird lets go a branch to fly
No fear or need to cling
Despite free-falling through the sky

I stop having birthdays
Giving birth to something broader
Falling through my fingers
As ungraspable as water

I let go gravity
An astronaut bounce on the moon
A cosmic letting go
Meditate to Pachabel’s tune

I release attachments
To savor the moment sweetly
I get out of my way
Casting my shadow completely

I let go everything
When I let go my mother’s hand
Feeling new connections
With strangers in strange lands

I release resistance
From things I once just ran
Bucking up with courage
Acting as if I really can

I let go the future
No fear of how I have to die
Breathing in this moment
Tick tock, time flies past in reply

trump is lurching like a loose cannon
Denying evidence and logic

he separates language from meaning
When Bait and Switch is his chief project

Those xenophobic fires he’s fannin’
Spatters his word salad recklessly

Like a loose cannon

This conman sold some a bill of goods
With gibberish worse than Tinnitus

Propaganda by steve bannon
An alternate universe naked

Like a loose cannon

I’d never met Mr. Campbell
Or heard of Mr. Stone,
But now I’ve ceased to ramble,
They’ve provided me a home.
A place for old and older,
Not poor or broke nor rich.
For meek and mild and bolder,
It runs without a hitch.

A bus to take us shopping
Or cruising to the mall,
And even island hopping
There’s something for us all.
Pat Pepper keeps us busy,
Not anchored to a chair
Al Widener’s in a tizzy
If we’re not happy there.

The staff is neat and clever
At Bradshaw’s restaurant
I plan to stay forever,
‘Cause it’s my favorite haunt.
No need to roam or gamble
For we are not alone,
God bless you Mr. Campbell
God keep you Mr. Stone

Lunch in Orlando
80 degrees on the deck
Egret steals salad

Very near the she-bear lumbers
Past the sharp palmettos
Paw prints on the garbage can
Under star-filled skies
She walks silently
Obscured by the raucous night
Leaving scant paw prints on the path
While we slumber
Crickets serenade us
Three manatees see
Bright moon, darting gar
Cold springs empty of visitors
I walk in the dark dreamworld
And move without sight
Surrounded by sure feet and wings
Stillness finds darkness throbs and sings

So easily I slide
Into an old chenille robe
Slouching to accept defeat
Feeling each past failure’s probe

My isolation morphs
Into alienation
I slip into a winter
Of my discontent again

Familiar imprint there
Tattooed backside on the couch
A negative reminder
Under dark shrouds of self-doubt

Passively sinking
Wallowing in all things bleak
Difficulties must precede
Enlightenment that I seek

Can’t hardly lift my feet
Both beneath my tree-log legs
I shuffle with some coffee
Time to empty out the dregs

After the longest day
I kick takeout boxes aside
I ricochet off balance still
No fall comes without any pride

I sit satisfied
Smiling smugly
Ha!  I think.
Go ahead,
Just ask me anything you want to know
Go ahead.
I defy you!
Huh?
Whaddaya mean
Is it dark
Inside of
Snowballs?

We're all seeking Paradise
But never wish to die
Heaven is a state of mind
Let Go and say Goodbye

Look into your heart and mind
Embrace all your good luck
Release all those resentments
Don't accept that you're stuck

With joyous expectation
Now new dreams will call me
Doors will open for me
No devil will ever gall me

For all the wisdom needed
To play the part we're given
Patience, persistence, and strength
Is how the soul is driven

Heaven's at your finger-tips
Transform your world right now
Don't wait for the End Times
Live in Eternity now

However I tried to hide, to flee
He taunted, "You’ll never escape from me”
Once tried to go yet stayed on flailing
Adjusting to the barbs he’s nailing  
Cooperating with my own impaling                                  
Gave up the dream of our smooth sailing
Nothing here is worth regaling
Late at night I keep on wailing
Deciding the step to take by bailing
Staying here means just keep failing

A sweet hum so pure
The birds and squirrels greet me
For morning coffee

I like it when you call me Baby
And when you're playing your guitar
I like you comin' down to kiss me
When those brown eyes say who you are

I like your voice's sweet inflection
When you speak straight from the heart
And the way you pay attention
I miss when we're apart

I love your silliness and openness
And your spontaneity
Your honest commentary
When you met my family

That Peter Pan mentality
And how you let me cut your hair
Your love of Rock 'n Roll
When you haven't got a care

I like it that you rescued Buddy
And care for him the best you can
You see that he's a lucky dog
You say that you're a lucky man

Don't think I have you idealized
Seeing only black and white
The wonder is I see you
In just the perfect light...

As for me, I feel happy
With you there's no doom or gloom
I feel that things get brighter
When you walk into the room

The wind blows wherever it pleases.
Gale-force winds to balmy breezes
Facing into whirlwind’s roar
Continuum of torture teases

Hurricane forces forging its wrath
Her name portends hysteria’s lash
Warnings on the evening news
Nowhere around her ferocious path

Brisk winds blow till unsafe outside
Exposing the truth in all false pride
Unsettled blustery feel
Every strong wind we keep inside

That long, low sound up against a wall
Each cutting wind or gusty squall
The wind-chill factor causes
Temperatures to quickly fall

Just when I felt the storm might clear
New winds arise that sharply veer
Whip apart my well-laid plan
The odyssey I held so dear

Like freedom felt the day we were born
Despite all the pain for those who mourn
Survivors have come to find
The pathway to "Shelter from the Storm" (Bob Dylan)

The first thinkers were poets
Naming Mother Earth
Beginning symbolic thinking
Of nature, death and birth

Though themes are often repeated
Love, Beauty and God
Poetry in the guise of Religion
A prophet or a fraud

The poet resurrects the Primitive
Through allegory and similes
Disarming the unknown like explorers
Sublime Prophets and Visionaries

They must lay bare those treasured images
That must be expressed
Unraveling and revealing the sounds
At each soul’s behest

Encompassing the entire Cosmos
So lyrical the beat
The poet’s excitement flows outward
Laid at the Reader’s feet

So original, individual
She won’t examine or explain
Letting go the festering feelings
Disturbances in her brain

He exposes his dark, wounded psyche
Just to release and express
Such capacity to see and compare
Hyperbole at its best

I love, I hate, I suffer
A special dance in rhythm and rhyme
The poet as a buffer
Lessening the pain and sting of time

Laden with symbol and feeling
She gives you sweet relief
From something urgent, revealing
Confusion to belief

Through a cinematic kind of seeing
The poet purges to transform
By leaping through Alice’s looking glass
She never was one to conform

Quite intolerant of convention
Just like that ole Mad Hatter
His passions immune to all logic
In syncopated patter

Jamming up the poet’s mind
Struggling for expression
Seeking order out of chaos
An infantile regression

Cleaving to his imaginary world
The poet breaks out into words
Creating sound paintings to be unfurled
So his own agony is blurred

She succumbs to storms of passion
With instinctive technique
Rhymes and rhythm still in fashion
Out of hand flows mystique

The poet mines from his unconscious
The Reader is not blind
For every single line and symbol
Means something to the mind

Causing an inner liberation
Enlightenment or flight
It is a matter of life and death
When darkness turns to light.

He crows about his crowd size
For “winning” an election
While most of us experience
Democracy’s defection

donald knows no boundaries
His pants always on fire
Now numbers past 12 thousand
Show he’s a constant liar

Praising evil dictators
He thinks that we won’t notice
While kow-towing to putin
Our crazy shady potus

Earth’s life-supporting systems
Are collapsing day by day
Showing scorched Earth strategies
Daily through his EPA

Rolling regulations back
For Mother Earth’s protections
Defiling our National Parks
Drilling toxic injections

The Amazon is burning
Is any country helping?
The Earth is getting hotter
Too many glaciers melting

trump’s polluting our sandbox
Distracting us from the greed
In the frenzy of rollbacks…
his relentless Twitter feed

Maligning our Free Press
It’s clear for whom he’s rootin’
Eliminating sanctions
Against vladimir putin

Whose woods these are I think I know.  
His house is in the village though;  
He will not see me stopping here  
To watch his woods fill up with snow.  

My little horse must think it queer  
To stop without a farmhouse near  
Between the woods and frozen lake  
The darkest evening of the year.  

He gives his harness bells a shake  
To ask if there is some mistake.  
The only other sound’s the sweep  
Of easy wind and downy flake.  

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep.

Words will love time
Family soul looked dead
Mother night, Brother fear
Best dark, crooked dog
Hears invisible moment
Stay, bear, speak easy space language
Remember hard space days
Language spaces cry
Christmas music power
Beauty seeking kiss turns to Irish evening news
Sun met snow going to watch miles
Die waiting, making clever men strong
Cat lives learn pure poetry
Wide storm a false friend
Morning feels close, feet pain weaving peace
Help poets let eternity cut fruit apart
Blue depression wins, full darkness leaves
Seasons retire watching river
Sea sorrow sold joy
Feeling deep sound things
Abandoned blame returns
Blind hearing grace checks wild mistake
Running, driven-spent moments
Sorrow creating joy
Hold hands, find play
Lost lake born a pale moon
Fresh dance worth breathing
A breathing garden paradise
Cool quicksand reaching a slow wait
Bless living fires' straight rain
Forgive driving, thriving resentments
Listen wisdom, tomorrow care needed
Glory course closer, savor ordinary beach comfort
Search, child, higher purpose tune
Human blood hearts rose, amazed
Alpha lessons support warhead, cruel promises cease
Remind denying Miami
Doppelgänger prophets flash resistance
Mourn cruising, drinking, washing tears
Women aware, believing Today broke
Fly locked room, pulling neglected history
Leaving social standing, familiar village wedding
Revealing cursed leaping boy
Gambling high Democracy

Christmas is Love

It can’t be bought or sold
It never grows too old
It’s hearing an old song
A friend who’s long since gone
A clear star in the sky
A baby’s first shrill cry
It’s never losing hope
Though in the dark you *****
It comes just to remind us
Of all that is behind us
It’s all we see and feel
Christmas is very real