Blue skies shine bright White wispy clouds smile A summer delight If only awhile White wispy clouds smile Over specks of sandy shells If only awhile Playing in the turquoise swells Over specks of sandy shells Dancing my cares away Playing in the turquoise swells…

There’s A Place The land is green As far as one can see. High upon a hill He stands almost still. Behind the handsome loving one Lit by the shining sun … Is my castle true, Red brick and lavender blue. It’s a storybook home,…

Cool, damp, and muddy Not one but two larger ears A horde of green friends Mushrum lurking tall Goblin beneath oh so short Eating bugs for fun Big tall humanoid Stompy Stompy go his boots Spores are on the loose Threatening Bad Time Goblins run…

Look, Sheeple, to the higher purpose of life. I’m not talking about men, women, children, or marriage; Or unhappy grown women with jobs and no man and on and on and on with the other redundant world issues Or whether it’s ok to make peace…

The way a shadow is cast by the moon differs from that of the sun or back alley streetlight for all of the romance the moon the sun have to offer true love oft times lurks in the noir of relationships where black and white…

Oh, If I have been feeling low, feeling low, feeling low Leaps and Bounds emotions flow feeling low, feeling low, feeling low And if I ever lose my hope, going slow, stop to grow, Oh if I ever lose my hope, Oh if… I won’t…

Breonna. Shot without a case, a human disgrace. How can you say this wasn’t about race? Her body cannot be replaced. Breonna. A mother’s screams fall on deaf ears, as the sirens turn into nightmares. Crucified because her skin wasn’t fair or because you didn’t…

IF I LOSE THE PLANET Losing Earth was harsh; First we lost the sun… We had warmth, but did not know from where; The moon had a shadow, and it did provide light. Maybe it kept the warmth, or the planet was warmed… generations ago….

We’re here, but you’re not listening. You, the self-appointed, peer-appointed pukes whose voluminous barf gets washed by white gloved bankers. The barf accumulated in the trade of the diminutive. Little people. Little. People. We scream. We cry. And I, like a good little gadfly, tell…

Curse the saint who shares with the ungrateful, and damn the monk who gives without reconciliation While I love all that I have, it is hard to forget that I am poor in many ways. I am happy and hungry, lonely and loving, and it…