Back to life, liberty and the pursuit of…
Time
Time and time alone aborts my life’s ambition.
Frenzied fervor quenched by circling hands.
Relinquish yesterminutes dream
And on to tomorrow.
Who will miss this unspoken philosopher?
Musée d'Orsay, Paris
Tick Tock
The clock ticks on
And there I’ll be,
On my way to eternity.
Collusion Rap
Ideology collision.
Societal explosion.
Political concussion.
Progressive destruction.
Disinformation.
Truth obfuscation.
Logic suppression.
Moral regression.
Gender confusion.
Sexual delusion.
Masculine castration.
Female sexploitation.
False adulation.
Emoji conversation.
Lost communication.
Human decimation.
Marxist infusion.
Mental pollution.
Inevitable conclusion.
Arrested evolution.
Holland 2018
Being a Grown-up is No Fun at All
Hi. My name is Emmy Lou.
I celebrated birthday number ninety-two.
Does that make me a grown-up,
Can I still play too?
I forgot how to giggle,
How to laugh ‘til I cry,
How to tell a silly story,
See pictures in the sky.
Would you, could you, help me
Remember what it’s like
To wiggle or to giggle
To ride my old red bike?
Feel the wind, touch the sun,
Eat an ice cream cone
Walk in the rain with no umbrella
Laughing all the way home.
Just one thing I’d like to say
I’ll ask the Lord on bended knee
To let me love and laugh and pray
And live ‘til birthday ninety-three.
I refuse to quit.
I’ll never give in.
I’ll go out swinging.
Father Time will win.
Inspired by the ‘Birthday Lady’ – June 2015
Did I mention liberty?
Life in Plastic
Once defined as proper and kind
Now confined by other’s fears
I don’t say what needs to be said.
I keep it all inside my head.
Why is it they discount my truth,
Whose truth is it anyway?
The privilege of being in the USA
Was saying what we wanted to say.
Rigid, frigid, terrified
Don’t discuss, don’t share ideas.
Don’t color outside their lines,
And never speak what’s on your mind.
I’m choking, we’re choking,
Wrapped in plastic, a plug in my throat.
I’ll most likely sink
Throw me out of the boat.
We’ve been led down this road
By egos so grand
They think we’re too stupid
To rule our own land
And, yes, it’s our fault
For giving up our rights,
For failing to care,
To take part in the fight.
Their ego, their id, they disrespect ours.
They’re smarter, they’re wiser.
They think we need led,
To depend on them now until we are dead.
The closer I get to my final day
The harder I’ll fight to have my say.
Freedom of thought, sharing ideas,
You’ll miss it a lot when they take it away.
I beg you to read our history of glory
Some tragedies, travesties, truths that are gory.
We learn in the process that freedom is fought for
Often to die for, so that we live more.
Cherish your visions; cherish your ideals;
cherish the music that stirs in your heart,
the beauty that forms in your mind,
the loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts, for if you remain true to them,
your world will at last be built. - James Allen
