FEATURE
Bluebird
Bluebird softly tittering.
Maybe Bluebird’s what I’ll call you.
Soaring through these gray, spring skies,
then landing soft and jittering.
Frolic through the heather’s dew,
then enter in my life…
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Politics
The white men sing and partyBut the tan little kids,they die Indoctrinated bodiesthat scheme and siptheir wine, Then sing and dance and party,for the tan little kidshave died
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A Running List of All Today
A summer girl with fire heart,Baked in sun yet seldom hotJanuary never loved,Shadowed heavens up aboveAntithesis of all I hope,Bleak with bitter, biting snow The first began a solemn sign:A shallow pit with open eyeWaiting games we play all day,Too cold, too wet, so here I’ll stayThe monster has control and thinksHe’ll hold this land…
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Covenant
. One day,I’ll look you dead in the eyesand remind you:Their blood is on your hands. Your silence makes ghosts.Lifeless, quiet streets,still as the groundsthey once played. The grounds you’ll never see. No, the dead do not speak,but one day,they’ll meet you at your grave. .
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Sculpture
. Words are chiselsCarve me downDull as spoons‘til flung with forceThen,they roughly gouge .Oh, carve me!Carve me!Knickand formand scar me!Whittle my bones‘till I match your dream!Shave my flaws‘till I’m dust in the breeze! .
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