Inconvenient Truth

It’s that inconvenient truth
the one we don’t talk about
because it’s just too frightening
and our minds refuse to accept
the reality that is all around
the darkness that comes
with the dawn of a new day
that Leviathan we can’t touch
devouring everything we cherish
grazing along the pathways
of once sacred places
now only a shell of former glory
where the rats gnaw at the rotted wood
and people only gaze, shaking heads
wondering where it all went
when they themselves feed on the carcass
while the fat man sings his laments
of what was and is now lost
and we cry for entertainment
for multiple pleasures of flesh and mind
taking away the pain of our lives
in the choices we have made
to turn away from each other
and sell our love cheaply.

Wild and Free

Maybe it’s me

the way I think,

not in a straight line

and not in sequential steps.

As I look back 

on all those years

when I was told the path,

and I went the other way

not willing to be fitted

with bit and bridle of convention

but wanting to run free,

along the broken ridge lines

across the empty beaches

to feel the wind in my face

to stand in the rain

shaking my rebellious fist 

to the forces that try to chain.

Now I know the tale

of the Handmaid and her woes

being tied down by fear of others.

Lives are meant for living

pushing against the walls

trying to contain the hearts

of the artists and poets

whose words are dangerous

and not at all straight and narrow

but wild and free.

An Evening Walk

They walk

hand in hand

along the river

of a mid summer evening

escaping the heat

of the city streets

talking,

planning,

future,

family,

children,

a life 

of promise

filled with

youthful hope

they never heard

or even felt

what was called

a stray

not intended 

for them

yet finding 

a home

in the tender flesh

breaking bone

and severing arteries

as they bled out

on the summer eve

just another casualty

on the midnight news.

The Paths We Pave

People can really hurt,

some get all oily and smile

just before plunging in the knife.

They will tell you anything

even invite you to dinner,

without you knowing

you’re the main course

to be carved up and served

consumed while they joke.

They claim to be holy,

good Christian folk,

who pray on Sunday’s

sacrificing nothing,

only to prey the other days

devouring the sacrificial gossip.

They carry their idol

in wallets thick with manna,

breaking hearts 

as well as bodies

to reach the heavenly heights,

only to find along the way

the paved path into hades.

Hey! Snowflake

You’re called snowflake

as if you are weak,

blown about by the winds

melting away quickly.

Yet, they do not know

that each snowflake is unique

a one of a kind

crystalline form,

a complex geometric pattern

that floats on the wind

to be caught on eager tongues

of children laughing.

Shaped by nature’s hand,

when combined 

a force that closes cities

stop trains, 

forcing us to slow down,

to remember 

we to are unique

one of a kind,

complex geometric patterns

that will one day

melt away

leaving only the green

planted so long ago.

Reflection on the News

It comes as no surprise

to see how we react

to the news that shocks

us to the core.

It’s easy to blame the past,

hindsight is 20/20

and of course,

we would have done it better.

It would be nice if people

were so easy and predictable

not creatures of habit

seeking what’s best for them.

Yet, that’s not the way,

hasn’t been since that fatal bite

in a garden lost to memory.