Behind the Blinders

To the face I did not know
The one whose name is clandestine
Spoken whispers, just below hearing
Your breath did not share my space
I never knew your laughter
Nor could I recognize your voice
Your eyes and mine have never met
But I grieve the loss of you.
The you were human, like me.
The you who had happiness and sorrow
The you who was quiet or loud
The you who was every bit as breathing as I am
The you who was every bit as worthy of love
The you who was every bit as alive
You were invaluable to the fabric of the Universe
I stand as witness that you existed
I attest to your right to dignity as a human being
May love now surround you with grace and mercy.

Song’s of Nation’s Pride (Again)

This poem was originally posted on April 16th, 2015 as part of a writing challenge. It seems to fit the mood I find myself in today. The day before the inauguration of Voldemort the Orange (my phrase) and his Plunder monkeys (Stephen King’s phrase).

I truly believed at my mother’s knee

That when I sang, “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”

The words I sang were truer than true

That if I bled for honor, it would be red, white, and blue.

But I’ve awakened to find a land divided

Bathed in disparity, desecration of what was once united.

I was taught at my Navy Veteran Daddy’s knee

That the Star Spangled Banner was to be honored deeply

That if I sang with truth in my heart

I’d stand united with my countrymen, never to part.

I believed in the land of the free, home of the brave

But I’ve awakened to find a land of the fee, home of the slaves.

I understood from my Grandparent’s legends

That America the Beautiful open armed beckoned

The words describing purple mountains and amber waves

Breathing life into the fruited plains of graves

But I’ve awakened to find a dying fracked rocky tops

Blackened drought plains laying desolate of crops

Where my family is from in Michigan The Rapids, la Grande

Makes me, all joking aside, a Yankee Doodle Dandy

Where the emblem of, the land I loved

Was supposed to be where there’s never a boast or brag

But I’ve awakened and I’ve found this only applies to non-fags

If you’re slightly brown skinned or poor, they turn you away

Ain’t nobody got time for that, they’ll remove you from society’s gray.

Love Showed Up

When I have been in darkest pain
Feeling I could not hope again
Love showed up.
When I felt lost and overwhelmed
Riding grief on a boat unhelmed
Love showed up.
When I’d thought my demon’s vanquished
But they roared to life, causing anguish
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my pain
But gently whispered, “Try again.”
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my trouble
It helped me to clean up the rubble
Love showed up.
It helped me navigate which way to travel
Clothing myself in threads unraveled
Love showed up.
Its compass pointed to my true north
Showing me how to sally forth
Love showed up.
It walked beside me on meandering paths
Teaching forgiveness for my past
Love showed up.

Widow’s Peak

She desires to be a widow

so bad that she can taste it

The casseroles and condolences

With open arms embraced it

She wears no widow’s weed

Nor tithed the widow’s Mite

With crocodile tears in her eyes

Their mourning her spotlight

When the flowers have all wilted

And the calls have all but eased

Will she then be grateful

That it was he deceased?

Note: This isn’t written about anyone in particular. It’s a what if.

Delusional

The devil came to my door

He rang the bell and cried

He lied that I was once adored

His chest puffed out with pride

His deception blackly oozed because

There is blood upon his hands

By his nature he’s embodied faux pas

In his hollowed-out grandstand

Convinced there is an audience

Still, he bows his head to pray

“No.” is nothing obvious

I refuse him the time of day

He invades my home with anger

Grief that should have long been spent

His recklessness is dangerous

But he simply won’t relent

His wounds are dark and oozing

His heart is arctic cold

He reminds me that he thinks of me

At least that’s what I’m told

His prayers remain unanswered

He leans on crutch and wit

His aura is all cancered

No blame will he remit