just talk to the hand….

just talk to the hand

please
don’t say
those words
again
about
us
all getting along
because
we can’t
hell
even lovers
can’t
do that
so
why
do we pretend
that
the embedded
rebars
of
ignorance
and
hate
can be chiseled
from
centuries
of
layered
contrived history
each
previous
attempt
has been
paved over
with
more
hatred
and
fabricated
reasons
to
fear
others
that
are
not understood
nor
acknowledged
for
that matter
so
please
do not
bother me
with
can’t we
all
just
get along

 

 

playpens…

playpens

traditionally
a square shaped space
with
solid bars
resembling
a cage
no
flexibility
in
the range
of
movements
but
was excellent
at
teaching
the lesson
that
there was no way out
but
the old-fashioned
bar design
is
long gone
now
modern designs
provide
flexible walls
and
a clearer view
of
what’s beyond
the
horizon
thus
facilitating
the illusion
of
freedom
this sense
of
freedom
can be enhanced
by
a variety
of
extra features
added
to
this
stagnant environment
options
that are
entertaining
and
distracting
thus
heightening
the belief
that all things are possible
but
like
all social playpens
the function
remains
the same
to maintain
confinement
thereby
safety
for
the ruling class

 

 

lesser men…

matryoshka

a game
of
cat and mouse
observed
by
buzzards
where
two
of
the same species
are
convinced
via
history
that
one
is
the lesser
but
both
have been
told
that
the other
is
the
lesser
so
in order
to
preserve
the
natural order
of
the universe
one
must be demeaned
and
destroyed
at
every
opportunity
and
to
the victor
nothing
but
more of the same
but
the
carcasses 
belong
to
the
buzzards
who
instigated
the
whole
damn thing
in
the
beginning

a child’s play…

a child's play

let’s play a game
of
pretend
you pretend
with
a sincere stare
that you
truly care
about
the problems
of
others
their welfare
and
rights
to make
independent choices
under
the mantle
of
freedom
and as part
of
this dolos script
let’s
have you say
that race
and
social status
have nothing
to do
with
what you’ve proposed
say
you’re
merely
protecting
against voter fraud
and
only have justice
as
the center piece
of
your policies
oh
and let’s throw in
that
political ambition
and
power
are not
the stimuli
for
the actions
and
threats
that
you’ve made
those heavy handed measures
are
to defend
freedom
it’s
really
not
fascist
and i’ll pretend
that all you
say
and
do
isn’t
just about
you

finding your faith…

finding your faith...

and when
your
dead
ancestor
doesn’t answer
your prayers
who
will you find
to
guide your faith
will you
accept each
agnostic word
heard
from
the pulpit
tho
dissonant
with
what you
know
to be true
or
will you search
the
internet
for
a new gospel
one
that feeds
into
your lust
and
desires
or
makes you
superior
to
another
proving
that god
is
only on
your side
and
thus
the divine
will willingly
accept
the assassination
of
your foes
by
your hand
a convenient theme
used
throughout history
so
why shouldn’t
you
use it
for
there’s nothing
that
can’t be justified
with
proper
editing
or
interpretation
of
god’s words
anyway
you’ve always thought
there
should be
a rewrite
effectively
substantiating
what
you believe
should
have
been written
in
the first place

 

 

we are don quixote…

we are don quixote...

as writers
days are spent
fighting
windmills
writing
words
on
the wind
words
of
unrequited
songs
for
freedom
and
justice
wanting to believe
in
the virtue
of
a less than
virtuous nation
hoping
to shape
the myth
into
reality
a nation
for
all men
judged only
on
their merit
but
that’s
a panglossian dream
the siren’s song
filled
with
vain
and empty
words
of
chivalry
a song
that has led
many
to death’s
stony shores
still
believing
their contributions
to
society
and
their suffering and pain
could not
be
ignored
forever
but
that was
excessively
optimistic
for
most traces
of
their lives
have been
erased
from history
all that remains
are
shadows
of
windmills
and
these few words
cast
into the ether

 

 

voter suppression and women’s rights…

voter supprestion and women's rights...

when cornered
the
most docile
of
creatures
will
become
fierce
the smallest
and
the weakest
will
rise up
and
strike
with such
intensity
that
the
predator
is quickly
destroyed
a lesson
some
politicos
will
no doubt
soon
learn
for
the new
allegiance pledge
has become
when laws become
a tool
for
bondage
rebel
a lesson
taught
to
every
grade school child
in
this nation
from
our
forefathers

a dream we had…

a dream we had...

for a brief
moment in time
we believed
the
dream
could come true
that
our words
could save lives
and
change
the course
of history
but
after all these years
we are still
counting bodies
from
war
and
seeing
women
denied
the rights
to
their own bodies
love
one another
is still
really
just
the lyrics
of
a song
sang
by
a few folks
sipping martinis
at
the club house
a sentimental relic
of
college days
days
when
some of us
watched
our friends
being dragged off
by
the police
some
never
the same person
once returned
from
captivity
some souls
are
perishable
war
rape
and
police batons
can do that they say
just as bullets
can end
life
and when
the white sheets
are replaced
by
dark uniforms
of
blue
or
black
the murders
are
made justifiable
lynchings
without
ropes
nothing has changed
but once
we had
dreams

 

 

ancient bones speak…

ancient bones speak

i lie here
among
severed spines
from
lynchings
and
shattered skulls
from
clubs and shotgun blasts
so
i’ve grown tired
of
all the rhetoric
all
the promises
written
on
the wind
words
i’ve heard
over
and
over
and
over
again
words
that are
no more
than
sterile seeds
so
i’ve learned
there will be no
harvest
of
freedom
for
only the chaff
of hope
has been planted
into
the cracking clay
of
tomorrow
the husk
of
dreams
left there
along side
these
blood stained
bones
of
mine

 

nothing to do with luck…

nothing to do with luck...

drawing cards
from
the stacked deck
of
life
a game
of
catch 22
for
blacks
where
draws
are always 
bad
and
without fail
lead
to
the players
being
dealt
out