Sunday, January 7, 2018

The One-Headed Monsters

Twixt the government assist
Safety nets and the like;
And social supports in heights
Lifting people up through prayers
And social giving of charity.

People selfish, People hypocritical
Self-same problem of the commons hypothetical
Giving/taxes and/or Charity do help us
But without outside oversight regulating
There isn't enough for everyman's greed.

How you get there does matter,
(For capital or social safety nets)
Life isn't one or the other
But two heads are better than one:
Both giving and charity..
Doing and sitting with a cup of tea;
One needs a life to enjoy their time.

That's what my taxes pay for
While you all charging war on a credit card.
The world provides enough for everyperson's need,
But not enough for everyperson's greed;
And That is the Problem of the Commons mind.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

A Hundred and 99 Words For Work, And Paycheck Isn't One of Them

There is a poem in me
That sings and dances
I only know the rhythm
As it twines around my bones
Like ivy pushing out my skull

The poem creeps up
Sprouting leaf here And leaf there
Questing the sunlight and heavens
As the poem roots into my marrow

This joins me to the rest of the world
Great green loving worlds of life and breath
Connecting in like to those whose bones
Are being crushed and reborn from the inside out

I don't think there is a plan or fate,
What I do think.. is that there's Work
Work that makes more work...
And work that gives back...
makes one feel better, heals,
creates while being created.

Like the ivy, this poem creates soil,
Breaks up the dirt into tinier problems,
Makes room for more air and purifies,
And leaves leaflets for tomorrows' sunrises.

This is not mine anymore in sleep's hold
I give this to you, so that you may grow
And dance, too, while knowing no song or tune
To lift spirits higher in greener worlds
We drink of earths and skies eternal
While it snows cold outside, we can dance with life.

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Confines of an Over-Extended American Empire

In a bread basket lays our food
Kansas, Egypt, Iowa, Russia
Wherein does a consumer economy get?
Wherefore do the mechanics and electronics come?
And why does oil subsidize the free trade...

Oh, Mr. Robot's premise of Stock Exchanges
Why is there so much money?
Whom do the fatcats buy their Blackberries from?
What breadbasket is therein protected from drought?

In ages by-gone when goods were transported by people
Long ago when bread and circusii reigned fervent hearts
People starved from drought in Egypt
And their economy shriveled with the hot sun on Pyramids
For they lacked food to feed their economy and slave labor.
With nothing to feed their people and empire, and armies galore.

A mere lack of electronics Mr. Robot would end your show
Would end your quest,
Just as Don Quixote would have no war inside
To tilt against windmills.. without lance in grip and mind,
And war of mankind against the sure and steadfast.

Without a motherboard, circuit in washing machine
Timer chip in oven, switch in vacuum, LED lightbulbs
Transistors in Power Grids, Switches in Google searches
An American Empire would grind no more grist

For, They, these days make the bread we eat
From a Pacific Theater and united Asian trade bloc
That will inevitably break-up.  They always do.
Those Chinese are tempered people that kick all walls down,
Presumably, because they know how to build them;
And know what they do.

Saturday, December 16, 2017

A Penny For Your Thoughts

My love's heart is a jar
Filled with living water
All the joys and hopes and dreams
Filling to brim

And left outside to freeze
Rimmed with ice, melted at core
Closed and cold
Swimming internally

She brings inside
Her frozen heart
To soften and protect
And to clean and fill

Perhaps with canned meat
Perhaps with strawberries
This is her heart
She does what pleases, her.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

12 Years of Old News

It's 9am, I'm tired
Thought hot coffee, swirled.
A small cup of joy,
I dip into lakes naked.

Where are all the loves
In the sky that created time?
Why does hate worm it's way
Along the Earth where we stay.

In the cloud's eye I feel as one.
The straying mote floating like bright
Drifting, as smoke drifts.. my life, carried
In the stillness, nearly invisible, except for the light.

My love is a familiar love now, comfortable and in reach
Trusted..  but infrequent
My love is a friendly love, that seeks companionship
Lonely..  but loving

And I float on and on and in spiral's reach of galactic clouds
A speck on a speck on a pale blue dot
The heavens holding all of spacetime,
In worlds' series of circles enfolding.

Love the great universe holding curiosity about itself
What's over the next mote, page, life, thought, taste...
Overlittle.. but learning, laughter, love, and life
In the light passing through the clouds of di-hydrogen oxide.

What a curious feeling, this cup.
Feels like my soul has wings
Where is psyche off to now in this winnowing
I dive off dock into calm ocean, naked.

Thursday, October 12, 2017

A Shot Rings Out

A shot rings out, echoes through the canyons of buildings
Rolls through the ground
Another person dies, another crowd

How many dead, lost count
300 mass shootings in as many days...
Another Mom gone, and another daughter dead
Another man, someone's baby, red.

And we spend our money building prisons
And closing schools
Which would give skills to earn a living...
Other than cheating, stealing, lying  ..killing..

Another shooting 200 injured
Gun Control being gutted
Health insurance being gutted
Mental health funding gutted
Social Services being gutted

It's almost like big-government, big data, and big money
Don't care about the people that are creating their value
In their money, but in their bills, too
In their bills, but in their house
In their home, but in bed, too.

The wealth of nations' resides in its humanity.

Friday, October 6, 2017

Tryst Twixt Cupid's Psyche

My Psyche with beautiful wings
Dances with the couches
Reading books and playing games
Plays all day with the dogs of Diana
The sheep the cats the horse
Brings dreams to Cupid
To forge into arrows

My Psyche can't sing, can't dance
But she's beautiful in the meeting
The hot dish, the cup of coffee
Her body sings in my blood like honey wine
While reading _poems to f*ck by_
And her wings take her to eternity

Narcissus even fell in love with her beauty
But she left to play in forest wild
And his will left alone
Gazed on his body, it was something,
Until he was struck with vanity
And binded yellow and dumb.

My Psyche I would suffer mockery
For her kind heart does not know why she laughs
Does not know cruelty
My Psyche I am in love with
And hope to steal a billion kisses +1

My Psyche is a beatiful rose
Meant to spread her glory
Reaching into heaven's sky
With roots in hell
To bring love to worlds' story

My Psyche is another love I cannot compare
And I hold her dear
Oh, to hug her in my arms again
To feel her body heat
To feel her heart beat
To press her lips against me
I should love my Psyche, with butterfly wings.