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Hope migrates to
sunny island shores.
There is no sorrow,
roses always bloom,
and the birds of paradise
fly forever free.
The salty ocean
cleanses the rot
from the skin
and the heart.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cz70MOS_JX8
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read from my three recently published books, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse, and, Sleep Always Calls, all are available on Amazon.
The saga continues

Day by Day
More or less in a desultory ride
Through the motions they find their stride
Until then, going along with the tide
Disappointing performance quality pride
Overall Purpose muddled in every way
It’s not what they do it’s what they say

Burning Tesla cars in the street
Throwing bricks at police
Protest officers walking their beat
Riot gear from head to feet

Without a soul
A Rioter’s goal
To take control
Unrelenting exacts a toll

City by the Bay LA
Peaceful protest Snatched away
Leadership lacking
Violent Rioters packing

Activist extremist in disguise
Hiding in plain sight realized
Extremist sleeper cells In the crowd
Violence encouraged allowed

Vandalizing stealing thievery looting
Speakers chanting recruiting
Their one true purpose deluding

A time will come when the messages is clear
Serpent slave time is near
Empowered they shove us to our knees
Evil thoughts do as they please


Rile up agitators
Governor Newsom says
The quiet part out loud
“ I don’t care”

Defiant, proud, inciting the crowd
Chanting rhetoric bullhorn loud
First he let the Palisades burn
Now it’s illegal immigrants turn

His practice lines are well rehearsed
Turned his back on the dead first
He told Police
Don’t intrude it will only get worse

The press President Trump media blamed
A Lying Beast cannot be tamed
Word by word verse by verse
The essence of an evil curse

Mayor Bass habitual, swearing
Lack of compassion nor caring
Hatred for the Presidency preparing
Destroy capitalism remnant rants daring

Trump wants
to stop those who
Escalate
Capitulate
Violate


The State is
Up for grab
Everything can be had
Break it Loot it take it all
California will eventually fall

The rich middle class moving away
Many ask, why do I stay?
God gave me  His call
It’s not time for California to fall,
The inertia of it all

Illegals fly the flag
of the country they fled,
Never wanting to return

While Burning the flag of
The country
they never want to leave
Rhetoric babble practice to deceive

This is not about blending in
This is an insurrection
What They want is to destroy America
Rebuild from the ground up

The destruction they have planned
For our country, our land
But we’re too ignorant to see
We are on our knees
Trying to appease and please
Because we put ourselves there

I grew up in California
On a small country farm
Local flavor friendly charm.
Gone; Community’s cities ghost town
One last look around
Massive areas
Burnt to the ground

Call a place paradise
Kiss it goodbye
A lump in my throat, a tear in my eye
One day I’ll say a final goodbye

Evil doers like locus destroy another city
It’s a pity it’s a shame unrecognizable blame
Drug lords human traffickers cartel gangs
Welcome to Los Angeles turf war claims

Inspired song

American pie 1971
By Don McLean

(the Father Son and the Holy Ghost took the last train for the coast the day the music died)
BLT Webster’s word of the day challenge
July 3, 2024 desultory
Desultory is a formal word used to describe something that lack a plan or purpose or that occurs without regularity. It can also describe something unconnected to the main subject or something that is disappointing in progress performance or quality.
There are silences that don’t come from peace,
but from being quietly, persistently excluded.
This poem speaks to that — to the kind of moment where someone enters a room
and is met with the coldness of not being welcomed.

It isn’t loud.
It isn’t dramatic.
But it stays.

When the Room Falls Silent

It wasn’t the first time.
It’s happened before.

The hush arrived like an old companion,
unwelcome, settling in the corners
as she walked into the room.
She knew it well.

They were talking —
her husband’s son, wife,
and former sister-in-law.
A circle she couldn’t penetrate.
No matter how hard she tried.
Or what she tried.

Many years of setting down roots.
Creating a new life
in soil that never quite warmed to her.
No longer in her home country.
She moved across the world for him.
She sacrificed.
Because of love.
True love.

She felt out of place.
In her own home.
She wanted to crawl away.
She smiled, again.
Apologized, again.
As if entering a room
was unappreciated
when you don’t match the pattern of the others.

But she remembers another time.
In another place.

When something opened —
a warmth still nameless.
She thought maybe things were different
maybe she belonged.
Finally.

She carried that memory with care.
Hope. Happiness.

But this time
the frost returned.
The coldness.
The silence was deafening.
With a message.
You are not welcome.


Still —

She is not invisible.
She is not less.
She exists.
She has value.

She is simply is not theirs.
But she is hers.
And she will not spend her life
trying for the unattainable.
It hurts too much.
At times crushing.
They sat by the sidewalk  
Their eyes made of steel
Lack of vision
Labelled impaired

Every evening
I pass by at five
I watch them sing
A twinkle in those pair of eyes
As they smile

The little boy
Apple of their eye
Jumps with joy
Not a note missed
A duet performed
The lyrics followed
On the smart phone

A vision for the wise
Lacking in the eyes
The creator’s flaw
Undeterred
Every evening at five
They play live
 Jun 27 Bardo
Cné
From a distance, she gazes with a sigh,
At the man by the sea, a captivating sight.
Lost in thought, he searches deep inside,
For the truth of who he’s meant to be,
and the path he’ll choose to ride.

She lifts a hand, a hesitant wave,
Like the ocean’s gentle touch
on the shore’s soft cave.
Yet doubt creeps in, as she questions her move,
Should she approach, or quietly slip away,
and let him find his groove?

The ocean’s vastness mirrors
her own uncertainty,
As she weighs the risk of reaching out,
and the comfort of anonymity.
For now, she stands, frozen in contemplation,
Torn between connection and solitude’s liberation.
I wrote an abbreviated version of this poem a few years ago and in rereading it, was inspired to add more.
 Jun 27 Bardo
Cné
In the twilight’s hush, where shadows play
I’ll hold your words, and cherish every way
You weave a tapestry of love and time
A bittersweet reminder of life’s rhyme

Memories of whispers, laughter and tears
Echoes of moments, through all the years
The velvet curtain, a gentle farewell
A promise of remembrance, that will forever dwell

In the realm’s beyond, where love remains
Our bond will whisper, through joy and pains
Though mortal frames, may fade and decay
In memory’s garden, our love will stay
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