Idleness

Shredding
A texture of loss permeates all idle moments
Filling them with all the wrong things
Cheering the idea of making a break
Knowing its impossibility
Seeing a line of hope
But not ready to embark
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Ready
But not ready
Wavering
Impossible to get the necessary work done here
Or is it?
Overcoming long held tendencies
The strength growing in my heart
Each time we replay the old ways
Each time we get a little closer
Safe for the days of unity
Unwise in the time of dislocation
“Reality has a liberal bias,” he says
But the pitchforks of one side are arrayed against the pitchforks and AK-47s of the other
The items are allowed to be inspected
But none can be found to return
A long night of savagery
A texture of loss permeates all idle moments
All idle moments between 10am and 5pm
Oh well
Let us begin again on the ‘morrow

Not a Good Ad

Not a very good ad
Working to reach the worthy
Following forever in the dust of others
But seen to be wanting by most
Asserting the dignity of humanity
Asserting the right to a life
Asserting the aspiration of success
But being seen to be wanting by most
Lacking all that most have
Having only some few things
Working forever at my craft
Not a good ad for myself
Piecing together a living
Building slowly from the dust
Coming unglued and retelling
All that had gone wrong once again
Asserting the presence of hope
Asserting a place for my work
Asserting a way to make money
Beginning to tear it up

Cumulonimbus is a type of cloud that is tall, dense, and involved in thunderstorms and other bad weather. The clouds can form alone, in clusters, or along a cold front in a squall line.

Cumulonimbus is a type of cloud that is tall, dense, and involved in thunderstorms and other bad weather. The clouds can form alone, in clusters, or along a cold front in a squall line.

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Paths of Hope

A thought or two
Comes through the channels of hopefulness
A twinkling up of the sky,
A brightening of the colors,
A seeming that there are better things on the horizon
Particularly in this year of our late blossoming,
We see through the channels of possibility
To those, the harder,
But infinitely more rewarding
Paths
Each day in the service of our truth we recover
Each day in the service of our truth we become more even
Each day in the service of our truth we see that there is room for life to be more than bereft
Finding tables of fine fare before us
We dig in
We dig in and we know of what is enough for us
We know the futility of piling stacks of money
We know the possibility of fulfilling our mission
We know the possibility of having full lives

of uncertain virtues

filtered war ware
clear driving into the hell sequence
quitting once and for all, never again
clear it the wires and waves unrelenting
silence beating, pounding like a drum
shine it, shine it out at the gathered mass
of cameras
silence
silence is golden
untimely speaech may be untimely
let it not be
working the silence i do not know
where are they and what have they done?
i cannot say
one hopes to, as the i ching says,
be free of mistakes
let not the oppressor do their own work
the surveillers presumably come more to the side
of the surveilled, rather than
the imperious dispensers of orders
where are the warriors
when the difference is merely ideological
not forcefully enforced
and yet my verse stumbles – on these sharp rocks
worrying the errant
clumsy words spill
the point has become heavy handed
release me from this bullshit
so i can write again
the hammer of the Civil Liberties Union is in reserve
should i ever find the proof