My African Violet
That sits contented on my top desk shelf
Withstanding dusting cigarettes by the dozens,
The unwanted direct sun light of the morning,
...
Final the feelings towards soldiers in war
Honorable or ignorant in the most honorable way
And dishonorably the madness of killing
Makes the mind, easily molded by the influence
...
My days are made of questions,
Answerless, or the universe would contract
Into a marble I'd put in my pocket
Which I'd finger while paceing through space
...
Om is everything
Om's vibration is so dense
though om is empty and weightless,
Om's the movement of all particles,
...
Grown grandiose the girth of my years
Knots, rings, crooked limbs my aged signs
Patient persistence I have engulfed fences
Rough and tall rooted shackles drink up
...
The smell of lavander
Bees humming rounds its tall soft tips
The water flowing over the rock
Trickles down my eyes
...
The open road and passion choked days
Are a soapless shower for a lackluster life.
Mid-day naps, cigarettes, law & order, and pap's
Thoughtlessly exfoliated in the sweet madness
...
Open letter by america rising
Saying hope and change was not attained
No more so called socialism, more like dictatorship liberalism
Instead monarchal capitalism and elitist hierarchy?
...
I, in paradoxical human comprehension have defined myself.
Though to this definition I am not confined
This too, in itself, is in part & the entirety of my definitive paradigm
Nor in words, being human deficiencies, it is not contained
...
mother complaining about apple pie made by socialists
melts american cheese and says she is polly-anna
her freckles are truths spotted on her face
her skin is clear and clean accept that mole on her chin
...