Words pour from their mouths
like water from a faucet
until we need them.
Until we realize they’ve said
something they shouldn’t have.
Sealed with government approval
they caw, squawk and eat away at our resolve
stabbing us over and over
with our own
Their black beaks
daring us to
stop them and
into a dark cloud
before they grow bigger
and transform into something else.
Scavengers fixed to gorge on the placated
at the table of procrastination
and donkey white lies.
It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...
**This poem was inspired by a T-shirt design—I bought the shirt! I am also trying to convince certain people of the importance of POETR...
***A prose poem written in pidgin english Da gross cockroach militia stays booming in da plumbing in da face of mass killings in Kaneohe ...
Fresh pine scent captures holiday spirit. Santa’s little helpers burn clean fuel. Christmas cheer expires on December 26th. Cards and let...