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 - against who? 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.
Category Archives: Poetry
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
HAIR
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
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
01132017
LC
Image
protanopia
fractured rainbow tears cried and dyed into diminishing stripes of perplex perseverance without knowledge of the transformed difference......
what
not the what but the who - and I don’t know where or the reasons why.......... but i will hold-on if an answer is kind WriteInSpace.com 2016© all rights reserved. may not be copied or reproduced without explicit permission
happening
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 or 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 hardwoods 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, mourning, knowing, you will be another day further from me 08.25.2016
WriteInSpace.com 2016© all rights reserved. may not reprint without explicit permission