a sudden loss of cabin pressure…

a sudden loss of cabin pressure

what shall we place
on
america’s gravestone
here lies
a nation
aborted
by
its greed
and
intolerance
of
its
own history
or
an unborn promise
made
with its fingers crossed
concealed
behind
a back of hate
and
prejudice
all
the while
scripting words
constituting
a justification
for
continuation
of
an oligarchy
but
with
more than
one
king
a feudal state
with
all the trappings
of
the middle ages

 

 

nothing to write home about…

nothing to write home about

this path
of
freedom
is strewn
with
shards of hate
a path
not chosen
walking barefoot
into the night
pain
with
each step made
they say
i should be 
grateful
that i’m
permitted
to walk

unclaimed…

unclaimed

gathered up
my
memories
and
placed them
upon
my mind’s table
sorted
through
a few
and
tossed others
aside
especially
the ones
tainted
by
the hatred
of
others
there
were quite
a few
of
those
including
several
i had not
recognized before
but
i
like others
are
haunted
by
apparitions
of
yesterday’s
trust and belief
in
any case
the remaining memories
were
of
loves lost
and
loves unclaimed
each
unique
in their own way
none 
could
or
should
be regretted
just
past moments
in
time
unclaimed baggage
from
a trip
long completed

manuscript editing…

ghost writings...

if injustice’s dead would rise
and once again have human eyes
so they could find their oppressors
calling them out by name
we’d have to rewrite the history books

dark transfiguration…

once those nailed to a cross
stand upon solid ground
and have the nails removed
they grasp hammers and spikes
placing others on their crosses

 

no fault of their own…

life leaves battle scars
soul’s deep emotional wounds
that transcend rational thought
symptoms are hate and anger
pressed upon the innocent

 

combat episodes…

he’d seen
every
john wayne
movie
and
every
episode
of
cops
his
black
spit shined
boots
set off
his
neatly pressed
military
fatigues
and
sheriff’s badge
looking
totally
combat ready
carrying
the M4 carbine
slung
across
his chest
he was
well prepared
for
his starring
role
so with cameras
rolling
the team
burst
into
the family’s home
shattering
the wooden door
with
explosives
then
flash grenades
to
dramatize
their entry
finding
crying children
mother
naked
in bed
father
slammed
to
the floor
as
he tried to defend
those
he loved
then
shots fired
teenage son
in pool
of
innocent blood
dark like
his skin
radio interrupts
the production
filming
they’re
at
the wrong
address