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Legacy
I have no feet to walk the earth
no fins to swim the sea
no wings to soar the sky above
my conscience bothers me
my brain is smaller than my soul
my heart beats way to fast
the blood that flows within my veins
was shed in ages past
Credo
As someone born in this great land
it’s time to rise and take a stand
tell one and all just how I feel
about the things I know are real
you cannot kill what does not die
and faith in God is not a lie
Democracy is not a crutch
America was built on such
Coquette
Absently she twirls a strand
of saffron colored hair
and peers at you with limpid baby blues
impossible to understand
yet vividly aware
that she is sending out misleading cues
Confession
Blood is falling once again
as tears of sacrificial rain
to heal the souls of those insane
and sing them into sleep
narrow is the path they walk
few can comprehend their talk
fewer still are those who mock
the covenants they keep
Memorial Day
Since first our nation came to be
bequeathed by sons of liberty
in many conflicts blood was shed
in many places rest our dead
on native soil or foreign lands
they paid what freedom oft demands
that all give some and some give all
so that democracy stands tall
Slayer
Blood is dark by pale moonlight
and pours without control
like sacrificial rain of night
draining from a soul
air is heavy, foul with death,
aching for a breeze
silence hangs like dragon breath
corrupted by disease
He promised that he'd help her, but he won't stay
Soon he'll be gone, so where would she lay?
Would she cry in her bedroom all filled with need?
Or will she punish herself and make herself bleed?
He is tearing her apart limb from limb
And she's drowning because she doesn't know how to swim
Don't they see that she's sinking?
Why won't they help her?
What are they thinking?
She's sick and tired of saying "I'm fine"
Look into her eyes, don't you see all the lies?
Poetic Resume
To pen the pain a heart has known,
the anger of a soul,
are things a poet does without regret
no matter where one’s thoughts are blown
or how one plays the role,
a bard’s resolve is often hard beset
aimed my eyeballs
with slow precision
became Zen like
lost myself
quite beautifully
Buddha staring
into my probing
vision
no sign of
the Virgin Mother
High Noon
minus the violence
the intensity
almost
knocked me
over
stop!
no more seeking
no more
worried looks
which scatter away
the weak visioned
sleepwalking drones
who contemplate
nothing
In the beginning
God created the heavens and earth
then Boom!
A dissatisfied snake
spewed out toxic waste.
Eve tried a taste
then breast fed her children
who defecated pollution
turning earth into a junk yard
I wonder if God wants it back,
to repair it?
A permanent fix would be nice
so Gabriel can applaud!
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