religious hooks that last a lifetime

{,.}

even after 40 years of rejecting
Mr. Pope et al black lies they create
with black magic via
incense, candles, bells, mantras
those they lose in the daytime
are visited in their dreams…

dreams become nightmares
my own was visited by
extreme emergency:
hundreds of babies were dying
quickly i bundled them
(not time to sort the live from dead)
took them to a safe place
time being the essence
they were fastly sorted

i told a found helper
to order hundreds of binkies
took the first viable one i found
to a safe place
gave the precious a binkie
and returned to sort out the rest
the rest were in little packages
not quite humanoid
most not viable, some maybe
not having the skills to know
they were handed to those that do
and i walked away hoping
they would euthanize the not viable
not knowing, the same as
NO BODY KNOWS
if a nonviable fetus feels pain

and i awoke
sick
of the brainless emotional imbeciles
who want control of women’s choices
angry
at Mr. Pope et al black lies they create

ok
you can tell me my dreams are my dreams
and there’s no such thing as black magic
at least
and after all these years
the incense, candles, bells, and mantras
are mine
with my own intentions
of focus
in my own spiritual awareness

ok
you can tell me my dreams are my dreams
and it would behoove me
to focus
before i lay my head a’bed
.

Fiddle Sticks

{..}

they were so hot they parted
and took
another train
downtown

Irene Maria
Sally Jo and Tim
waltz me around again Charlie
gonna take another walk downtown

he left
on a freight train
she left
on a jet plane

from rocks in lips to botox
OMGGGMC
(ya don’t wanna know what that means)
oh my good god goddess merry christmas
or make up you’re own if it makes you laugh
like i just did.

4th of july celebration
was cowboy breakfast
music in the park and picnics
ending all together
either in or watching a parade

Cinco de Mayo celebration
ended with blocked street
for dancing
and every Sunday evening
a giant heart would sing,
“Take another little piece of my heart babe.”

good night, good night, good night,
my love,
i’ll see
you
in
my dream
.

pen-chant cant chant, or can it?

i had every intention
to stop scribbling
oh but these hands
they don’t listen
or why one before me
walked the streets
writing so fast it could not be read
one sheet after another then
tossing it over her shoulder

immigration
they always pull out a patsy Josè
(sometimes Maria)
Rick Parry the executor
gets applause
I hate cancer
vote
teabag or killer
tiger o balm
tiger tea
tea killer
how do you spell GOP?
What do you get
when you fall in love
with money
and power
or the final hour?
shame
nightmare in the daylight

don’t talk/don’t touch
contagion
coming to your local theatre

how do you spell heaven without a home
how do you watch the sun go down
and not know you might not see another

you are i and grass is green
don’t bother to write
we both in jail
jail with no walls for human kind
now and then visits do us good
there is joy in Mudville
hallelujah
yahoo
woopie
woot
namaste

even here your thin voice reaches me

.

thin golden thread is spun
carrying concerns
daughter to mother
the vigil set
candle lit
your father this time
weak and needy?
perhaps a son with broken heart?
an old man fearing his departure?
o remember
the symbol of folding hands
is a bow between humans’
recognition of the divine
in human form
gossamer the thread
with unbreakable strength
enough to bring you home
when, daughter,
you are ready
.

kind human kind

every morning we wake up
willing or not we get up
having survived
previous days
of pain
of grief
of broken hearts
a little joy fun
if we be happy
when we can

ever growing
lists of mantras
you/he/she/they
done me wrong songs
forever rewritten
of course from both sides
now what’s not to expect?

every evening we fall asleep
one full swoop
or bits and pieces
was this day our last?
or this sleep?

how we survive
arise, live, love
let go or not
of slings and arrows
is where peace lives
or not
share us this day
our daily bread
and lead us into the land
of human kindness
amen
.

“I will not forgive them, for they know what they do.” – God

~

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

~

get over it

{..}

clamor of annuls
signifying dying
answering questions
with questions
do you wonder
might you ponder
why they broke away?
side by side
their stories ride
both false and true
no final resolution
a blink in time
only young gods
are amused
the old ones
sort p’s and q’s

beauty
wherefore art thou?
order or chaos?
how could him/her
do her/him that’a way?
first comes cry
then comes sigh

~

one gave love to
unlikely receiver who
passed it on
and one
some time spell later
felt a moment of joy
over seemingly
nothing at all.

that we survive is the miracle

.

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
.

a leg a’sea

.

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

.

i sing nothing nothing nothing

{..}

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.