don’t tell me you are sorry, tell him

tell him how you were brainwashed
over and over again
by your leaders demonizing him
and his
your sorrow runs deep
deep as your blood and his

let her wake up in the morning smelling peace
seeing military bases turned into
producing green
Earth Green and friendly

count the number of ways they’ve divided us
your leaders and ours
after we’re sorry
don’t take it anymore

oh pray we evolve
from kill or be killed
might makes us right

might we now begin
to compete with creative ideas
instead of blood
we are all #1
or nobody is #1

bring it on home, summer
it’s only a heart beat away
and three weeks.

Who’s your mama Aston B. Carter?

has she been out too long
does she know your work
with weapons of kill
did you hear my curse break
yacking as you were
to reporters
as seen on C-SPAN
this very moment
did you feel my queasy
explosion of
how could you!
how could my fellow Americans
stomach your expounding
new war toys
good ol’ American Enterprise sucking
at only age 58
i reckon you’re not reckoning
St. Peter’s golden gate mirror
where the REAL Aston B. Carter
can not escape seeing his true self,
nor will his mother.

gotta set that burden down

gotta pause from “I’m right-y”
to maybe
we both right-y in our own minds
and who convinced us
till death do us part
from what is righty-y
for us
E pluribis unum
was the dream of our founders
still alive
here, over there,
over hill, over dale
all life is sacred
may we pause
may we find balance
in our differences
no you can’t hurry love
but we can
step in a forward direction.

Twixt Calgary and Vancouver

twist C and V there sits
proverbial tar pits

in Calgary resides a mayor
proving pluralism really works
with it there is nothing you can’t do

in Vancouver resides artists
#1 film making paraphernalia
nothing they’ve found yet they can’t do

oil monger’s profits heading skyward
gas guzzler’s costs per gal. going down
a little

in this Economic Spring
how do i explain to my great grandchildren
)Arab Spring
)fully one half of the worlds drinking water is not save
or that 70% of the wells the US built are not save
or that we became the culture of bottled water
bottled in plastic made from oil

all i can say is we had our heroes
the newest one i’ve just learned about
a man, a mayor of Calgary
who figured out
his city of we the people contained
many bright intelligent people
so he connected
of course
via the internet

thanks and praises Honorable Mayor
for one corner of light i can point
to and wish a blessing and prayer
“not the new generation pass away
without living in their community
and nation
where the title ‘Honorable’
may truly be placed
before the name of all politicians
again to be
truly the ‘servants’ of the people.

Daisy Krave or I Love Tina Fey

so far away form Dixie Land
mother would not take the stand
her mother gave to her

respect is a girl’s best friend
so do not ask if you do not
want an answer

of course she does not want
anyone to be where they do not
want to be

mother was
a jolly old soul
when they let her

good night Trixie
your granddaughter tends our garden
she still is our Daisy A Day

cosmic Tom Foolery

just because i think
i don’t need to do
doesn’t mean
i don’t

nine tenths of laws
are ignorant
so why ignorance
not a defense?

sometimes might be bliss
wishful thinking
oft times might be a shocker

dying for one’s own sins
(dying =’s atoning)
mumbling words won’t do it
nor fumbling beads
nor claiming belief
in proven lies

why do birds keep on singing?
why do flowers keep on blooming?
they know something we no longer do?
“to every season, turn, turn, turn, turn…”

Hang on Sloopy, it’s Abraham

Abraham John Waian (1944-2012)

John Waian was his show name
pronounced John Wayne he liked
the joke/confusion, i first heard him
playing your song on Cinco de Mayo
in nineteen eighty one
for a street dance celebration

John was a regular at the Drifter
until they banned Rock n Roll
(we rock’n’rollers didn’t drink enough)
oh Sloopy, wish you’d have heard him
singing “Take another little piece of my heart”
and seen him, between lights and stage smoke
ending Janis’ song on bended knee

he asked me to dance and we did
for a few months and here, now
are the stories he told me:

Hang on Sloopy:
you were the girl next door
(both pre-teens)
with a mother who dressed you
pretty, with a long pony tail
when sitting side by side he asked
you to let your hair down, you did
he softly cuffed his hands
and fluffed the ends and oh
it made him feel So good
he wrote this song for you

a teenage boy in love with his teacher

If Loving You Is Wrong I Don’t Wanna Be Right:
a 16 year old babysitter…
he had two little children, a wife
and included her in family outings
to a California beach, he told me
his desire for you was only to look
not touch, but his wife asked who
the song was about – he told
she divorced him for this, said she

when John died one month and one day ago
i googled his name with Sloopy to sadly find
credits for his songs live elsewhere
don’t know
if he lied or sold his copyrights
it don’t matter to me
it don’t matter to him now

R.I.P. John Abraham

everything grows poignantly beautiful

in the dimming light
only a candle’s throw
from dawn’s lighting early
here comes the sun
some will know it not
having left on an air
we remember for whom
and how so loved

astronomically numbered
find kith and kin
magic or happenstance
tropical mist or desert rain

we miss you dear angels
even as you miss sun
over hill, over dale
we’re still on
ye ol’ dusty trail
and we’re ok cause yer ok+
more – we still hope

the Unbeliever says…
no, i won’t say/tell
if you look for him
look on the side ways