Stages of Petrification

 Out of our cradle

endlessly rocking

so soothing to suck and swing,

we be, Wives to the House

we working women

with clean fingernails.

Rural and dirty, illiterate, failed to be-

come organized and erected,

built and projected by chart.

Fortunate: Educate the ‘poor’,

Entitle the ‘rich’ by degrees and adding zeros

we carry on, pound for pound.

In War

Peace. Conflict. Stability. Conflict.

War, Again. The sequel.

Work harder, work longer, work smarter, weave your

World Wide Webs

Catch the drift and save it for later.

Faith

Science

Tradition

Armed men have arrested the development

of reach, nucleic re-armament fires up

and we women make mud pies

with what we have.

Grow food, “make” food, “buy” food

and storage for later.

Trees to homes to paper planes,

Origamic Plastic Pyramids

surmounting slag on landfill,

a slippery slope, a slide-show.

Bare feet babies scramble to fill shoes

made from recycled tires

and the miles

felt without insoles.

It is too late to change courses.

Adapt. Improve. De(con)struct. It was all made

for you

to find a swing of things, how high

may be gotten before

going all the way around

giving blood

blisters from holding our chains

too tight.

Image of photo By Nikater (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Petrified Forest.

7 WDS

There is nobody
who goes unnoticed.

♠

Time spent on memories
never returns more.

♠

Together two words
leave space between.

♠

Indulgence is for one
expression for all.

♠

I see you
seeing me as you-

there are things
that cannot be shared.

♠

A star, like the ocean
reflects light.

♠

A speck is not one
of anything.

♠

What is possible
has a chance too.

♠

A full deck
is not limitless
luck.

♠

Arrival is not the same as
presence.

♠

Here we are
just now
and then.



Image credited by: Snyder, Frank R. Flickr: Miami U. Libraries - Digital Collections [No restrictions or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Gaseous bubbles

It has become customary

to throw up ones' arms

and say ‘CRAZY’ as though

that could be

the end of

the ‘DILEMMA’, not much more than

ennui & effortless cooling

occurring naturally,

after the initial explosion.

The human being,

irregardless of the (in)humanity,

hovers with the curiosity of before’s and after’s,

and our re-action was our only second chance.

Predictions are prepositional

‘PLANS’.

Any body could conclude

All bubbles burst.

Image credit By NASA, Voyager, a child in bubble 2011 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

pirahnas

Society needs
pleasure and fear to feed its
lonely appetite.

Photo By Jh12 (Own work) [Public domain], taken at Aquarium of the Americas in 2007 via Wikimedia Commons.

Red Sea

This poem requires a brief introduction. Growing up you could always find in my possession at least one book I was reading and a poetry journal. At my grandparents insistence when I was 13 the following poem was submitted to the National Library of Poetry where it was published in an anthology entitled "In a Different Light".

Red Sea 

A red sea, a red rose

A painted sky

I have to keep asking myself

Why

A blue bird, a blue glass

Tear drops fall on a little girls pillow

Standing in a barren field with one lone willow

Colors of a rainbow, together they run

On an empty street a man stands with a gun

He is a lost soul in a crowded city

People can only say "what a pity"

A little girl cries for help, blood runs from her wrists

She is another number on a long, long list

Kiss a forgotten person, open your eyes

We don't need anymore lies

Within ourselves there is a war

Break free and let your spirit soar.

Image By Paolo Neo [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.