poet

Safe place

In the end

There will be no safe place

No America to run to

No caves to hide inside

No forests to conceal us

No safe place

Except the secret places inside

Our hearts and inside our minds

Although that to

Is under attack.

your savior

I was not built for the apocalypse

For days like this

For sinking ships

Angry fists

For lying lips

The Judas kiss

The end of innocence

A broken government

For the swarms of locusts

Your savior sent.

Darkness (a poem)

In this darkness

Will we have any victories?

Will we ever find truth buried under all these lies?

Will death trodden over us with heavy boots?

Breaking bones and breaking spirits

Will we all become dust again???

In this darkness

Where dreams morph into nightmares

Where evil is good and good is evil

The place where we all turn into wolves

And then turn on each other

With cheers for the death of democracy

Will we all become drones?

In this darkness

Where we embrace slavery

Where we embrace hate

Where we embrace fear

Can any of us be saved???

Will we ever find the light again?

The Observer – a poem

The moment

You’ve convinced yourself

You are right

You are in the wrong

Be a dreamer

A lover

A fighter for freedom

A soldier for innocence

You must question your own understanding

The world is riddled with lies

Be an observer

Live with an open mind

And an open heart

And most importantly

Just love.

Morning Poetry “Lemmings”

Sometimes I feel

Like we are all being

Laughed at

By billionaires in business suites

Look at these little lemmings

Lapping up our lies

All fighting and scurrying about

All afraid to die

Aren’t we lucky the masses are so dumb

If they turn on each other

They won’t turn on us

How easily they succumb.

A poem, maybe? “Things”

Things I hate

Mean people

Crulity

Greed

Politics

People that alway think they are right

Apathy

Flies

Car crashes

Wolves in sheep’s clothing

Death

Things I love

Art

Poetry

Dogs

Tacos

The laughter of children

My son

Sunlight

Kindness

Mohawks

Plaid

Crooked Smiles

Compassion

Poetry

Music

Flowers

The mysteries of life

Life

The things I say

Oh, the things I say

when I am drunk

My honesty is 

Self-degrading 

Give me what I want, boy

The whiskey says

You don’t have to read my mind

anymore

For some reason I’m still supposed to read yours?

No, I will never be ready

for the real world

I can’t take the pain

But if you let me escape

you

I hope you regret it

for a very long time.