mount st helens…

promises
of
freedom
carefully crafted
dreams
to
resemble
reality
a socially embedded
myth
like
an induced
drug
comma
that
has postponed
the nightmare
unfolding
across
the
nation
it
is
a reoccurring
incubus
calling out
for
the promises
of
freedom
to be
fulfilled
not by some
high priest’s
words
offering
more of the same
gruel
that
with patience
it
will be delivered
but
it has never
been
delivered
nor
i fear
ever
will
be
and
i suspect
time is running out
for
promises
and
promisors

 

upon the mount…

no calls
for alms
no cans
for coins
he stood
a man of 
just straw
dressed in scarecrow clothes
with  tears  flowing from eyes
asif to irrigate the hope within
his heart
looking
finding
just me
a   fool
and he
knew i
was not
so wise
as to
understand
his cries to share a tear
so said to me… to share a tear
is to care about others as much i
cared about my own loves in this life