Archive for March, 2020
refugee’s journey to freedom…
The reality of today’s world.
he said
death ain’t
that
bad
but
dying was
quite
complicated
found myself
and
family
in one of those
no man lands
between
two nations
we had left horror
only
to find
that
horror
had followed
our footsteps
winter’s frigid hands
took
our first child
while
the second died
of
that new virus
well
that’s what we
suspected
since
no one
was testing
nor
for that matter
considering us
suppose
it didn’t help
that she
hadn’t eaten
much that last week
my wife
the elders said
died
of a broken heart
such things
are hard to prove
but
having such losses
and
being seen
as
subhuman
may add
some validity
to
their belief
as for me
i drowned
crossing the border
my body
was swept
out to sea
no need
for a burial
in
another
unmarked grave
so you see
being dead
ain’t
all that bad
but
dying
well
that…
View original post 2 more words
manananggal…
What can I say? This is the truth.
a different country
so no one expected a man
true separator
separating the whole world
preying on freedom’s life blood
since it’s not alive
bullets of silver dollars
pass right through its soul
the evil spirit cried out
no chance that the buck stops here
head in the sand or up something…
What a time we live in, and perhaps die in.
conman’s rose glasses
applied to nation’s health news
wanting us to trust
that the virus is controlled
try telling the dying that
monitoring the situation…
This is a sad, but true of our society, of the world where I see no hope of compassion of our country, our world to answer this truth.
brunch new york cafe
un officials discuss
ground level zero
all the world’s dying children
until the poached eggs arrive
editing and proofreading needed…
A poem of need and neglect.
surely
had the poet
found
the right words
people
would have listened
or
read the words
upon
the page
and
rose up
from
complacency
to feed
a
starving child
or
to shelter
a
fragile soul
from
life’s storms
those
poetic words
that
would give
hearing
to
the deaf
and
sight
to
the blind
surely
had the poet
found
the
right
words
the
right
incantation
dead emotions
would
be
alive
for surely
no
human
could ignore
and
deny
such
basic
needs
of
others
to
exist
dead on arrival…
I feel we are a failed experiment.
i lie
in
an open grave
the
stars stare
at
me
in amazement
of
my foolish beliefs
that
i was
free
and could
become
and
attain
anything
but
the stars
know
for they have watched
men
for
centuries
and
understand
that few
are
free
and that
most
are slaves
to
the desires
of
others
though
vassals believe
it
is their desires
that
command
the course
of
their future
but
that
is mere
delusion
a systemic inculcation
carefully
crafted
for
the benefit
of
those in power
a lie
repeated
so
many times
that
like a child
told
to believe
in
the unbelievable
believes
a sandstone dream
the banks
of
one’s soul
on
a raging river
of
greed
only
recognized
when
the shore
of
faith
gives way
and
you end up
in
an
open grave
being
stared at
by
the stars
an unknown soldier…
There are times when this poet would not tell these stories.
But, unfortunately, reality is reality.
he had been
dead
for
a couple hours
but
no one noticed
since
he often napped
in
the afternoon
in
the shade
of
the war memorial
to
vietnam vets
he claimed
that
the figures
on
the memorial
were his unit
and
the one
leading the charge
was modelled
after
him
lots of folks
would just giggle
and
say
sure man
that’s you
though
there was
a strong resemblance
anyway
he said
it’s my
right
to sleep here
so no one
was really concerned
about
his long nap
could have been up late
making the rounds
of
restaurant bins
last night
you’d be surprised
by
what they throw out
so
he may
have been feeling
like
a stuffed cat
needing
to sleep
more than usual
so
no one was concerned
until
the police
showed up in the park
along
with a contingency
of
border patrol agents
making
one of their routine
View original post 43 more words
dead men in clean underwear…
Money buys everything including our country.
there is
little
disagreement
about
their decaying nature
and
most folks
consider
the stench
from
their
rotting souls
particularly unpleasant
however
when
pious platitude persons
carefully evaluate
how much
money
they’ve
made
from these
walking
political corpses
an
offensive defense
is
offered
in behalf
of
the
not so dearly
departed
they wear
clean
underwear
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