will u b my4ever blue sky

will u b my 4ever blue sky
of endless possibilities
punctuated by wispy clouds
of transient doubt
?

will u hear w/me
ghosts crying nightly
mere memories
not prophesies
?

as 2being1
will u speak truths
only us2 will hear
in our souls
?

will u come& go
with me
neither leader
nor follower
?

will u blossom
as i bloom
wither
as i falter
?

will u b my4ever
sun
my4ever
moon
my4ever
stars
?

“yes,” we said
the Word
resonating
in our4ever
soul
.

copyright, 2020: all rights reserved

photo: my4ever blue sky (January, 2020)

Whose Dream (doUhave)?


yeah, i hear you
talkin about MLK
on your FB post

gotta ask ’cause
gotta know
:
whose dream
(doUhave)?

with white privilege
masking racism
name-calling
whose fear
(ruliving)?

status quo
protects my white ass
keeps me safe
keeps me from asking
scary questions

i fight myself 2c
worlds i never lived
hatreds i never felt
injustice against skin

foolish stupid me
empty rebel rebel
naive and hopeful
when the dream
needs so much more

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: Empty Walkway (PHL, December 2019)

Roman Collar Man (whoRu)

Bibles and Sacraments
Baptismals and
so many
Stations of The Cross

Roman Collar Man
whoRu
as your words seduce children
as you
hide behind confession
church law
and bankruptcy
to protect your reputation
to protect your assets
to protect your perversions
and your supply
of innocent souls
and young virgins

i smell your evil stench
from behind your defiled crosses
your pedohile sanctuaries
y is the Holy See
so blind

satan so pleased
by token measures
meant2appease
by secret measures
meant2protect
evil in your ranks

Roman Collar Man
who pretends to stand
in His Light
and who lives
above man’s law
above God’s law
in the name
of The Father
of The Sun
and The Holy Spirit

will u ever be cast out
from among the ranks
of the Holy by a Church
that is not as holy
as it Pretends to be

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: 1light (January 2020)

living@102fps


steel shiny
rubber rolling
windshield worlds
click, click, click
of my smartphone
driving@102fps

hotel suites
staff know my name
packed lunches dinners
complimentary breakfasts

then suit-up time
buttoned-down or t-shirted
(superman had his cape: ive got my blazer) and jeans
this psychologist’s uniform

preparing to understand
kids yelling punching soiling @102fps
parents struggling denying
enabling offending

another deep deep plunge
back into the infinite flow
of young faces hiding
tortured souls and secrets
finding dna of their pain

“abused”
“neglected”
“in placement”
“rights terminated”
are never just words
bandied about

so many violated kids
i gotta gotta know
102 feet per second
day in
day out
barely keeping up

“depraved”
“heartbreaking”
“tragic”
all those realities apply

lived their prisons
felt their rages
knew their numbness
storms before my calm
lived decades before
lived lives ago
lived PTSD life
always fighting
always dying
rising up again
until no1Left2fight
but me

being part of their journeys
starting their evolutions
of making mountains into
pebbles on their paths
helping them find miracles

when the evals all done
it’s never barely mentioned
each a stranger again

afterwards i
slip off the sport coat
slip into the car
meditate and
send out healing
as i heal@102fps

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: untitled windshield landscape (Trout Run, PA)

upon (sound) healing

become the dust
flow through my pores
soak into my blood
alter my dna

my eyes materialize
within your darkest night
paired sunrises or sunsets
only you know which
in each passing moment

touch what you will
you will touch me
we two mingling in breezes
cascading before the sun
in our rainbow
only others can see
only we can feel…

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: SunSetsoon (January, 2020)

Outlaw Truth

words that cut
sharpened by truth
turn no deaf ears
in this morning’s light

warned by The Universe
to give us this day
its Daily Bread
i shall go armed
only with insight
carried on wings
of outlaw truth

singleness of purpose
battling injustices
profound and profane
under building storm clouds

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: Morning Reading. (January, 2020)

Pencil in a Spa

planes that fly away from me
as the sun leaves my sky
dont know what i want to be
when i finally grow up

who was it who made me
one day at a time
back in the good old days
before my nights had eyes

im not sure i know me
as well as i know you
theres too much
i dont want to see
how my mirrors need cleaning

someday i’ll be all gone
vacant from my body envelope
just floating on the ether
waiting for time to end

’til then i’ll just float
like a pencil in a spa
waiting for my next words

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: Pencil in a Spa (Lewisburg, 2020)