Friday, July 13, 2018

i couldn't hear so i tried to write

all communication is an act of interpretation
trust is essential for communication to succeed

god’s word transmitted without body language or tone of voice
giving the text an author imposes a limit and closes the writing

trust is essential for communication to succeed
tell us if there is an author in this text?

giving the text an author imposes a limit and closes the writing
the twenty-first century is the age of the dislocated symbol

tell us if there is an author in this text?
presence and absence is displaced by pattern and randomness

the twenty-first century is the age of the dislocated symbol
sentences distilled to the precision of mathematical equations

presence and absence is displaced by pattern and randomness
at the edge of time when storytelling becomes impossible

sentences distilled to the precision of mathematical equations
what?—speak louder/articulate more clearly/that's preposterous

at the edge of time when storytelling becomes impossible
a love letter sent by post or email still speaks of love

what?—speak louder/articulate more clearly/that's preposterous
when divided by an ocean the written word sustains

a love letter sent by post or email still speaks of love
all communication is an act of interpretation

when divided by an ocean the written word sustains
god’s word transmitted without body language or tone of voice

Friday, December 29, 2017

The Note On Our Mirror

Considering
Our lives may
Not be what we
Truly wish or
Envision,
Now we must
Try to
Move ahead without
Envy or bitterness–
Needing each day to
Trust anew.

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Anxiety

an abc poem

Pause to feel the
Quickening of your heart
Release those fears to
Soothe this pain
If you want to abide, you must avoid collapse.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

As I Shout in the Streets

I no longer know what matters to such American
people. Although if I follow their leader, money
seems to be an answer. I read about the sans-gun
service of once-US Poet Laureate Frost. Does freedom
fighting of that sort count? Or is it only the power
of military and business that is worthy of praise? ‘God

bless America’ sounds hollow when your god
is only invoked to defend those Americans
wielding wealthy, masculine, white Christian power.
You threaten to sue with check-books of money,
declaring that your rights demand denied freedom
for the Other—and if that fails, you have your gun.

You angrily yell: ‘Keep your hands off our guns,
and keep your political correctness off our God!’
You claim this government is killing religious freedom.
But Christian liberty is not religious liberty; America’s
separation of Church and State proven a lie. Money
will now be our ruler—the divine right to power.

The rally ‘Vote for Life!’ becomes ‘Vote for Power!’,
as the NRA threatens, ‘Vote to Keep Your Guns!’
Once again we are reminded of the money
chiselled for worship of a lifeless, foreign god.
This is the god for which platforms of ‘Americans
First’ are throwing aware their coveted freedom.

Your ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ pursuit of freedom
is revealed to be a desperate grab for power.
You are willing to distort the elusive ‘American
Dream’; replacing and reifying it with rights to guns,
rights to give lip-service to only the Christian god,
and rights to the pursuit of money, money, money.

You say intelligence is success, measured by money.
You claim that to maintain our fought-for freedom
requires labelling and barring those who worship Allah.
You have compromised Light in order to possess power.
Driven by fear of Other, you cradle your precious guns.
Is it only You who gets to define what is Great America?

Lesson one: If I make money it will bring me power.
Lesson two: Freedom is defended by wielding a gun.
My plea: Dear God, I don’t want to be this American.

Friday, August 12, 2016

disappointment

Degradative
Illusional
Stagnant
Argumentative
Prideful
Prejudicial
Obdurate
Ignescent
Nocent
Troglodytic
Maladroit
Exacerbating
Nominal
Turbid

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Will You Promise Too?

Each morning anew I promise to feel;
Not turn things askew, nor hardened as steel.
I open my heart, whate're each day brings,
To anger and hurt and sadness that stings.
I promised to wed with my being—whole—
Let's forsake this dread and press for the goal:
Through each painful dearth, we'll discover new mirth. 

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Apology

I struggle to write about happy moments;
I fear it will stop me from living in them.