No one is listening

No one is listening
our kids are being murdered in their classrooms
         witnessed by the innocent and precious.
politicians are lining their pockets-
    they're chunking the change for porn stars
               and mistresses while
          parents are ordering tiny coffins.

  feeding the masses rhetoric
          with those huge spoons            
                    they're buying it 
                                wearing it
          digesting, sleeping with it.
parents with faces in their phones
         do they even know who their kids are?
      pack a pistol into the lunchkit
        tucked between the cut up apple
                and the snickers bar
          they can't find their kids
               let alone their shotguns and handguns.
  When you try to request gun control
      the rednecks start screaming about the second amendment
        into the take-out speaker
               if they listen
                 oh my god - it might be something they agree with
             "give me a side of ammo and sample of compassion"
so they shout louder and louder and louder
       kiss you sweetly on the lips, good-bye...
            and walk quietly 
             out the door
     cloaked in an AR-15  
             because they need protection -

On May 18, 2018, 8 of my neighbor's children
were gunned down with 2 of their teachers
 at Santa Fe High School, Santa Fe, Texas.
 Please register to VOTE. 
Change is necessary to stop the mass murder
of our most precious and innocent.

No child should be worried about being killed 
            in their schools.

©WriteInSpace 2018 All rights reserved.
          May not be re-printed without permission.

you are

You are:

an acolyte torch striking fire and brimstone

a modern day Arrian.

a mystery of many dimensions…..

a kaleidoscope with ever changing brilliant views

validating infinity and who god or “od” is.

shocking honesty and quick to correct!

sharing differences with the same timelines –

tip toeing around the gardenias

so they can hear the Max Richter’s Vivaldi

“I think it’s strange you never knew”

plays in my head because you put it there


a man without a current face

but one in my head

loyal – true

a smokestack over the monongahela

high at the top of the steps

intense descriptions to hold close

to save & scatter upward for superior suspension

quick wit

I “get” you

always an astonishment

which may be wrapped in crinkled newspaper

but oh what wonders


the neighbor

the neighbor is
a fraud
stealing service benefits
a lawyer no
married to an adolescent
    cheerleader stance
    still thinks she’s cute
a yard full of paper plate flowers
   and dollar store treasures
   cries for her meemaw
vaporized by that passing train

First they came

“First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak out for me.”

by Martin Niemöller


you know who you are

       you know - what to do

we both know the difference

a commencement – a debut

a need to share

            for one who cares

and lives the dare

       i   am           there.

a mute trepidation........

hangs            on the wire

a beginning to end


what will transpire?

“Out there things can happen, and frequently do,
To people as brainy and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen, don't worry, don't stew.
Just go right along, you'll start happening too!”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go! 

WriteInSpace© all rights reserved. 
              Do not reprint without explicit permission.

11,185 days

of mute silence holding

you inside of my heart

Putting aside the exhaustive

supplicatory screams

and night terrors reserved for

reticent confessions.

A halo of deleterious pain recognized

by members of the club no one

asked to join


i hear you calling for me in the store,

in the dark, in my head...

Saddle shoes crashing down the


little pink mittens attached to ribbons

     on the floorboards  

Silent Night Silent Chaotic Crowds

i hate hollow ho ho ho’s

uptown girl downtown bus rides

complete cessation from  

never letting you out of my sight,

out of my arms,

yet the reverent search

for an authentic angel

vacancy void vacuity

timorous chasms

each morning,



you will








08.25.2016 2016©   all rights reserved. may not reprint without explicit permission