The Bomb

*note: this poem was created after a comment from a facebook friend (first two lines) on my profile picture . With the commenter's permission,
I went with it.  (I am a peace loving person...)

The Bomb

There is only one place I want to bomb

and that is the Pentagon

I know that this statement could get me in trouble,

but what have I got to lose?

I could dig my way out from under the rubble

I could surrender to the abuse,

I could build another structure

in the vein where the needle punctures

but I really see no use,

and dammit, I refuse!

Cause, 

we're all going down and spinning around

at this planet's critical juncture -

there are  holes in the ozone

we've poisoned the seas

we're sucking up gasses from man made machines

our eyes are all cloudy

our ears cannot hear

we're screaming together in our concert of fear

our backs are all breaking

our legs cannot move

we're hanging together, our necks in a noose

and who kicks the stool out from under our feet?

You know the answer, so I will repeat,

to the man in the seat

with his boot on the stool where our world sits upon,

"There is only one place I want to bomb,

and that is the Pentagon."

ldn

Photographic mind

I spin out my days which are measured in time

I don’t know my place, if it’s yours, if it’s mine

I know I’m part of the whole scheme of things

but I do not know what tomorrow may bring

so,  I settle for now in this present field

where sometimes I go, but mostly I yield,

for I do not know if the oncoming traffic

is what I imagine from my mind photographic

or if it’s a memory I view through my lens

or perhaps a reflection of places I’ve been

I’ve diced up my life into sections of time

so I ask you again, is it yours, is it mine?

If you know the answer,

then I need not ask it,

for you are my lens in my mind photographic.

ldn

wings

If shoulder blades are wings before budding,
where then are my tears before flooding?
I see them not in my eye,
but deep in my soul where they lie,
waiting
to rise,
to water my wings before budding
to prepare for the day of the cutting,
when my days on this earth are complete,
when I spread my newly grown wings,
when I travel again without feet,
...and fly.

ldn

Patterns

 

 

Ahhh! The patterns,
the way Jupiter talks to Saturn
is not for me to understand for I am just the star at night
I am the one who disappears into the dawn of sunlight
Did I ever exist?
If you cannot see me now, was I worth the kiss?
Why then do you play my chords of desire and loneliness,
and speak of a time when I was absorbed in my unforgetableness?
I see a pattern here,
beyond the sphere of loneliness,
of darkness
Come with me to investigate,
the skies at the breath of dawn that take
my light away ~ into the sun
Be the one.

 

ldn

Skybird

 

 

 

Sky bird, goodbye,

sitting there with wings outstretched,

waiting for the golden eagle,

who comes no more
You who stole away my breath
Rise up on webbed feet, and fly

Perhaps we will meet again,

and if by chance I wait for you

we will climb atop the sun and dance

Sky bird, goodbye.

 

ldn

Transparency

It wasn’t about how firm she stood on solid ground,

or how she lifted from off our shoulders one hundred thousand pounds,

that made us love her

Twas the lightness in her breath,

the day she left,

to the mountain by the sea

at dawn,

through the moon ~ that breathed  through you and me

Now that she’s gone,

as the days and nights turn colder

and we’re all nine centuries older

we go on,
through the moon,
to the mountain,
to Mom

ldn

She's a woman

She’s a woman with no restraint

who claims to be a saint,

except when she flips cops off

Hip-hops

She was born in the ghetto,

raised on chicken feed

She’ll love you once then take what she needs

She’s wicked

She’ll stick it to you when you least expect it,

and come out clean

She’ll blame you,

shame you,

but you’ll never leave,

cause she's got what you need ~
a woman with no restraint

who claims to be a saint.

ldn

Slow aching

I’d much prefer to die a martyr’s death,

than to live on earth slow aching for my Lover’s breath,

or be taken by the mobs at night,

than to sit here praying for my flight

to realms on High where He doth wait

for me in restless sleep to wake

I’d go to Him if I could leave

this earthly life,

‘tis what I need,

to stop

slow aching.

ldn

Interest

 

 

It didn’t interest me why you cried,

but that in the sob I heard the helplessness inside

I could not stop the pain if I had tried,

Oh broken one,

My son.

It didn't interest me why you laughed from the bottom of your soul,

but that in the laughter was a place that we both know

It didn’t interest me that you let your frustrations out,

but that from in the depths of your despair I heard you shout,

out loud,

or why you lost your way back when,

but that you found your way back in,

Oh faithful one,

My friend,

and it’s okay,

because it ain’t easy, Babe.

ldn

The corner bookshelf

It wasn’t on the corner bookshelf where I lay my hand,

that I felt my self,

but on the spine all broken down

It wasn’t the way you left

but the silence of your steps,

that made me weep

I can not sleep,

I can not breathe,

I can not leave the corner bookshelf where you read.

ldn

The Game

Take a little slice
but not too much in one sitting
for one never knows when they will be called
back,
for seconds
God only knows
Oh, mirror of mine ~
He who traces life lines down my brow,
follows hollow centers around the perimeters
of my cheeks bones
sucked in between broken molars,
counts the vertebrates down my spine,
in a row
Leave, don't go
Say yes, say no
Who knows what is better?
Who is the decider,
at this point in the game?
Take a little slice,
but not too much in one sitting,
for God only knows how,
when we will be called back,
for the second time,
around
Oh, mirror of mine.

ldn

 

The Joshua Tree

For Joshua

The Joshua Tree 

He’s a Joshua Tree.

He’s green,

a man with fire in his hands,

a man with a plan,

who can

be who he wants to be.

He’s a Joshua Tree,

green,

sees more than you or me.

He’s a blade of grass,
a hollow reed,
Kick ass.
Bad ass when he wants to be,

but to me he is simply ~
a Joshua tree.

He’s lean.

Only mean when he needs to be.

Other than that,

he is simply ~
a Joshua Tree.
With sheets to the wind,
sailing in,

I lean on him,

he leans on me

and whenever we’re tired

and need to just be

we stand,
feet firm,

in the fire,
burn 
with our hands
where they always will  be,
resting a while,

on the Joshua Tree.

ldn

Giving it all away

 

 

Where will I go?

How will I know?

*It's a long and winding road, and I've run the course before

back and forth, and through,

from the beginning to the end.

It's all over now, but it's okay,

because I feel better now ~ giving it all away.**

My twin is living somewhere on the second floor of me,

where she will always be.

She tumbled down the stairs a long long time ago.

I miss her,

but I'm not sad anymore,

because I feel better now ~ giving it all away.

I've seen that road before,*

and it's not worth the pain and the heartache,

again,

but I feel better now ~ giving it all away.

 

ldn

 * The Beatles

**Leo Sayer (Just a boy)