Poem #30–Reality–A Nightmare

Reality–A Nightmare

A Tuesday evening, reality sets in the last day of April, 2019.

No more hiding, no more silence, no more head shaking.

A president tallies up more than ten thousand lies,

put into office through corruption.

Executive cabinets run by corrupt and incompetent sycophants

destroy our government, our earth, our people.

The Senate majority leader calls himself the GrimReaper,

helping load the courts with corrupt judges and passing heinous laws.

Children are in cages, physically and sexually abused.

“Whites Only” on school bathroom doors for students to read

as they flee in terror from an active shooter, mowing them down.

Women’s bodies no longer their own with abortion carrying jail sentences,

penalties beyond humane standards as congressmen and white men

rape them and force them to carry the product of the rape.

Men of color spend years in prison while white men of privilege

sell out our country, pay for mistress’s abortions and laugh at the poor.

The homeless die in the city streets, unnoticed, uncared for.

Veterans commit suicide daily in massive numbers, their families in sub-standard housing.

Transpersons, Native Americans, LGBTQ beaten, murdered while wolves in sheep’s clothing

proclaim the president is appointed by God and all who do not follow him are cursed.

The man calling himself president cozies up to dictators, despots, murderers

in the name of the economy as he sues a Congress trying to investigate him.

He buys an attorney general, he buys supreme court justices to protect him.

Murders, white supremacists, religious zealots condoned, incited to violence–


No more hiding, no more silence, no more head shaking.

Law defied, Constitution defied, checks and balances a mockery–


Face the reality–wake up from the nightmare.

If good is left, if a belief in a higher power exists,

if caring, loving people exist and believe in FREEDOM FOR ALL–

the PEOPLE must rise! Enforce the laws, the Constitution!


Face REALITY.  Awaken from the NIGHTMARE.

No one.  No country. No world.

Choices offered.  Live alone or stand with your fellow beings for


This is REALITY.



Poem #29–Marcellus


You are a bundle of energy, at 6.5 pounds.

You jump on our computer keyboard,

as a dog barks on Facebook, to return a bark at the image.

You, like our Sara, imagine yourself huge,

a fierce protector– as you thoroughly screw up our technology for days.

But you cheered our Sara, as you cheered our hearts.

You prodded and demanded she play, and we smiled as she complied.

Our neighbors shook their heads as you barked on walks

at every thing that moved, including them.

You move incessantly, forcing all in the house to move–

and you have brought smiles and laughter to us all.

Your mama will come for you tomorrow and you will

wriggle and yap for joy and bring more smiles.

Ah, little Marcellus, your name is bigger than you,

and you have worn us out by each day’s end.

But we will miss you tomorrow night when you are home,

not snuggling next to us in bed, not whining to get closer and closer against our body.

We have to admit, you have etched your own special niche into our heart,

and we will miss you ever so much!

(We hope your mama takes another trip and you can come visit again! 🙂 )

We love you, little Marcellus.

Poem #28– Trapped


Did we trap ourselves?

Are we locked in to fear and pain?

Ah, the funny kittens, puppies, kids–

a welcome break from shootings, deaths, hate.

Then pictures of children with guns,

wearing KKK costumes.

News alert–another white supremacist out to settle a score.

Go outside, where the sun was, clouds gather.

Prophetic?  Portends?  Omens?

Go to the beach!  Look far into the horizon!

Can’t afford the gas.  Can’t break away.

Fear, punctuated by gathering clouds.

Pain for those mourning today —

and those that will mourn tomorrow.

So wanting to break free!

So wanting to feel, hear, see the GOOD!

Words, “Do what you can to spread love where you are.”

We will.  We will try.  We want to!

We will put the feeling on a shelf of being

TRAPPED so that in sharing the hope

no one else will be


Poem #27–Stars


They rest, far up in the sky.

Beyond reach, they burn with their own fire.

They shimmer in eyes, deep seated.

Burning with a fire inspired by the soul.

They spin in the air around the child’s head,

woven and scattered by magical faeries.

Sailors plot their courses by stars at sea,

wise men follow them on land.

The spiritual seek their messages;

readers tell the future by watching them.

And mere mortals simply look up

to see their ethereal light–

looking for a consistency they can depend on.

Poem #26–Aware


To intuit, but not KNOW,

leaves a feeling of uncertainty.

To turn aside from uneasiness,

rationalizing oddities and quirks,

leaves a question mark in the heart and mind.

And then, suddenly, a light shines.

A glare of truth, one that uncovers the shadows,

removes all doubts and questions.

Suddenly, all are AWARE.

Now, what happens?  What can be done?

What is right?  What is the answer?

A mourning, a grieving for harm allowed.

A coming together of minds,

united to not let it happen again.

Now they cannot deny that they are all


Poem #25–Exchange


“I just don’t want to not understand,

to not be confused!” she said loudly.

“Then you have to face two things,” he said quietly.

“You have to realize that as fiercely as you protect your hate,

as vehemently angry as you are,

That the love you know you hold must–

MUST be as strong and passionate.”

She cried, then, “But they have to pay for their evil!

I want to make them PAY!”

He nods, speaks–“Your wanting revenge

Or justice or whatever you label it

clouds your understanding, creates confusion in your mind and heart.

Its shadows cover the real you, your real purpose.

It is eating you even as you feed it.  Don’t you feel it?”

“No one knows like I do, how mean, how evil, how…” she starts.

“I do,” he says softly.

“Stay with me awhile, rest, be at peace, find you again, let

your other half rest, and then you will find yourself.”

She nods, looking defeated, sadder than the most despondent soul alive.

She feels her other half separate and she is alone,

Searching to find herself.

His arms encircle her and he rocks her as she sobs.

“I do know.  I do understand,” he whispers quietly.


Poem #24– April 24, 2019


Poetry is to be read

and interpreted by the reader.

But when the poet reads the poetry

it carries another interpretation.

Some poems rhyme,

some are like a story.

Humor can be shared in poetry.

Anguish pours from the heart in poetry.

But as the reader reads and reads again,

It is again left to the reader to interpret.

That is why poetry will never die.

It will carry the message the reader needs.