Month: August 2011

~

16 lying words – George W. Bush

“The British Government has learned that
Saddam Hussein recently sought significant
quantities of uranium from Africa.”

15 truth words – Ari Fleischer

“These 16 words should never have been included
in the text written for the President.”

Bush revenge: Outing of Valerie Plame

Result: Endless War

~

.

Who wants to marry a millionaire?
no gold diggers need apply – ya sure.
Jesus died for our sins
so we wouldn’t have to – not.
If we only think good
only good things will happen –
like kiss my foot.

OMGG
even biblical honor was
only washing the feet.
Good Goddess Gertie!
Kenny missing a G.

she pops a pill of relief
a temp from madness
inside and out
makes the world go away
for a few hours…k

is it morning yet?
or how in heaven’s earth
did they think to create
blue flowers?
o dear daughter, dear daughter
did i yes do something right?

sweet survivor of tons
of grief immeasurable
hand holding heart in place
today
i reclaim
our symbol of love
from nonsense pledges
of country, flag
any yeah
boy scouts

in this final hour of anywhere
we will re enter our garden
singing
as a bird might
dancing
as a flower’s right
when they call our name
we will remember
the miracle of
rebirth
.

.

i’m a bad person
who sometimes does something good
it’s impossible
to be a good person
who never does anything bad
it drives one crazy to think so
or worse – self loathing

what’s good for the goose
not good for the hen house

junk yard dogs are not born mean
change the environment
change the man
woman or child
also

dreaming
dead or alive
true selves
describe…

the old lady pauses at her keyboard
young dog greets her politely
daughter behind the door smiles
broadly proud of her protege
someone had disposed of

torn tender by the shreds of life
grieving when a flower dies
joyously a new bud blooms
she will pick up the sticks
when i go home
bounce the ball
hop the scotch
tear down the walls
of separation

.

{..}

trees and daffodils,
covered
poet’s heaven, not,
poet’s hell, yes.

will i earn myself a peek
if i describe it?

not

how about
if/when revisiting hell
the knowing of heaven
makes all
survivable
not knowing
poet’s hell

i like to believe it is the meeting
of very old poet friends
and then what says she

you’ll never see clearly
the other side
but you can get close
and you can come back
more aware

who knows what i’m reaching for
i see a big full moon in the sky
a reflection of my globe
lamp that looks more like a pumpkin

de Buddha asks me for whom do i write
tonight
for myself
and i’ll print
for my Finder tomorrow

we’ll have a good laugh
and brotherhood
from sea to shining s.

{..}

how then
shall we proceed
or not at all
all adding up
mistakes
miss steps

missing adulation
not missing
one way praise
other way boring
both better off
forking the path

survival
or monkey shines
i know not which
only know rivers flow
we’re caught in snags
of our own making

“I” the rock
tumbles to pebbles
down the stream
down the river
becoming gems
of oceans’ sands

did she kiss his hand
did he wash her feet
do they live in Never Land
where south flows north
where north flows south
and equators equalize

not to fret little dew drops
so far from river flowing
first rays of sun
will show us the gem
we are to become
at story’s end.

.

the pain of a student
is the pain of the teacher
symbolized by robes, hats
with tassels
all together
they shift from right to left
graduation
of student and teacher.

is this true for the guru?
i do not know but i wonder
having only met a few
and never one who called
him/herself a guru.

there once was a piano man
who fell onto one knee laughing
Gethsemane postured
responding to his hosts
aristocracy.

i am still in hell
with some saving grace
a little bit-o-gold
in years declining.

nor how much do i know
how far we have advanced
from predator and prey

slaughtered blood is our own
in human species feeling

so diverse non human species
each with the drive for survival
seys who humans are also diverse?

cause it’s easier to see some other as other
and non related?

pain, pain, pain, pain
or, say,
fear of pain
we’ve all been here before
with mirrors of reflection
let go of the guilt
and feel the shame
creating one less step
out of this hell
humanly created.

“Shake hands with all of your neighbors,
and kiss your sister Kate,
you’re as welcome back as the flowers of May,”
dear ya all, ya everyone.