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Month: May 2019

BLESSED ARE YOU

The dogs surround us,
fight over the bones left bare
by the preying vultures
who include only their own
at the table in this new home
where truth and goodness
are cheaply sold for a pot of porridge
and a calf of gold
that looks a lot like us.

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TRUTH & GOODNESS

And the planes fly high
in the light of the moon
across an uneven playing field
cast by beam-eyed businessmen
who be by greed consumed
and by women who call the shots
for the sake of the nation and all that;
the game goes on but the whistle
blows not for Camelot.

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NOW IS THE TIME

As the lamb to the slaughter
bowed east to the knife,
the money changed hands
in the den of thieves
and with a nod and a wink
and a coin for his life
the queer man was stoned;
and while we wore scarves
he died alone.

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CAST THE FIRST STONE

I was looking at the scaffold
of the gallows in the square of the town
as they paraded him down
past the gathered throng
with voices raised in a single song
as they placed his head in the noose
and watched to see
who would be the first
to spring the trapdoor.

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PEACE, BE STILL

Turbulent was the sky at night,
a churning mass of clouds
white and black, fighting
against the angry wind
across the face of the moon,
stripped naked
by the staccato light;
there is no one to calm
the coming storm.

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UNLEARNED & UNLOVED

Of Keats and Baxter
and a bright sky
of unnumbered poets
who ponder the heart
and the ways of love,
my intimate knowledge
is but a desert compared
to my learned friend
who knows their every word.

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A WRITER

one
word
at
a
time
jagged
and
unfitting
stuttering
and
staggered
a
painful
dialogue
eventually
finds
an
unworthy
place
on
the
page.

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FRONT PORCH

Could I walk you through
the holes in the clouds
from which the yellow moon
throws shadows
across the front porch,
casts a refuge in cold silver,
and holds us in a moment
that has no end.

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MOONSHADOWS

If I do not look at the moon
I shall not weep or pine
and nor shall I drown
in the great distance
that lies a wedge between us;
if I do not look at the complete moon,
the long night shall hold no sorrow.

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BOOTLACES

I would lift you by yours
if I could and if I thought
it would do you any good
but rather I would like
to see you pull yourself up
by those tough threads
that hold your boots in place.

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