Hunting the Hunters

praise goes to the ones who survived

soldiers returning home from battle

divorces who decide to remarry

cancer patients living beyond goals

children born in the heart of Africa

the wealthy who look down their noses

politicians who lie like defecations

birds who fall out of the nests

hunters not having time to reload

crabs not put into the boiling pots

clergy who has lost their beliefs

mothers who give up their children

addicts who kick instead of die

all the bombs never exploded

criminals never brought to justice

proponents of trickle-down economics

feet painters without the use of arms

blind singers who love inspirationals

Deaf artists who never walk alone

trees never cut down for houses

parks never turned into condos

we the people that never were we

and those who are always forgotten.

September 4, 2025

Night Dreams

rain blew in last night during
our slumber time,
unnoticed and unmanaged,
it flooded the minds of
the elderly to the point
they knew not who they were
in the morning light...
proposed changes were made
implemented and etched in
stone tablets like Moses...
living water ran down through
the streets of forgetfulness
blending past with present,
present with future, eliminating
speculative investing at
its very points of origin...
crusaders lined up around corners
beg for the days of old when
first knight had rights and
women were never scorned,
rain poured through holes
the heads could not fill in time,
short-circuited that thoughts
leaving desperation it its wake.

September 4, 2025

Days of Ole

dreary and dismal is the day
arriving after yesterday
when all was as expected,
hours pass by too quickly to
be noticed fully and when
observed offer very little
in emotional comforts...
they whittle away at themselves
like carving a face in wood
for children's play and
nothing more when life used
to be just that simple...
they flow one right after the
other as they should, never
out of place are they seen,
since no one would know
exactly what to do if they were,
arranged unchronological,
they serve us well when working
or relaxing by the shore but
when there is nothing to do,
they are boring and immature,
they feed on our frailties
instead of the qualities that
made them what they were,
now just a bunch of minutes
and hours bundled together
because it is so much cheaper.

September 2, 2025

Beyond Time's Boundaries

time mourns innocence lost
a crisis in aging felt,
the non-reciprocating agreement
leading us into a neverland fantasy
with or without our shoes,
or best buddies by our sides...
cringing at all the terms
to which we did not agree,
sight...  hearing...  mobility...
physical dependance upon those
for whom we once cared,
more of a burden now than help,
fashionable clothes sitting in the closet
waiting for the funeral that
never seems to arrive in time...
dogged persistence keeps us alive
beyond the threshold of sanity
hummingbirds laugh at our presence
attempting to capture their vitality,
ageless thoughts flow through filters
positioned by the mind's defenses,
allowing in the relevant ones...
hiding all the others...  until...
time has no need to see the past.

September 1, 2025

Watching Over Me

twice a month I get infusions
daily pills do I also take,
count my blessings do I always
no prayers do I ever say...
except once at the beginning
when all was lost, I thought,
giving myself up without regret,
eighteen years my path is fixed
science has kept me alive...
or so it seemed sometimes.
wealth and miracles happen to others
has been my claim to fame...  still,
something in the way I have survived
tells me differently when considering
all this extra amount of time given.
luck is favored by those who prepare
I live my life the way I always do,
not just stepping daily into it nor
putting one foot before the other;
I live my life as if there's no tomorrow
for whatever reason surrounds me
and while my purpose is unknown
something still watches over me.

August 31, 2025

Backyard Solitude

illumination through the trees
there when feet touched
cool deck boards underneath,
faded stain, worn in spots
cracks run horizontal beside
vertical railing, aluminum
strips float freely between the
rails tied with granny knots,
a faded green cat brush with
bent and missing bristles on
the glass table sits aimlessly,
awaiting its owner's arrival,
stillness in the air prevails
soundless flapping of wings
as vacationing birds fly by
with long beaks and tiny bodies
looking for the red containers,
a cloudless pale blue sky serves
a gentle backdrop reminder of
no more sleeping felines...  but
for now, when heads raise, they
merely watch hopping rabbits,
drearily look at lounging owners
giving us the go-ahead permission
to continue with our writings.

August 25, 2025

A Word or Two Written

sun through the umbrella shines
matted pages absorb the light,
black ink scribbles until empty
a sky-blue replacement suffices,
words on the page quickly appear
marked out and replaced before
attempts at editing occur...
readers read not the original but
one with modifications galore
oftentimes changing the meaning
of what was written before.
no claims to fame are there given
nor quick solutions for changing themes,
when smithing of the phrase occurs.
thought retrievals replaced by searches
more efficient engines they assure
robing us of our humanity onto
which we have desperately tried to hold.
sometimes, on this porch I sit when
weather is nice and warm, protected
by this red umbrella when too much
sun finally appears...  oftentimes, my
thoughts I see, many of which, fall
through the decking cracks but some
survive the test of time...  remaining
on the booklet pages when it closes.

August 29, 2025

Seasons Noticed

distant sounds fly by overhead
aircraft engine heard
vehicles rumble down highways
along with eighteen wheelers,
echos heard through walls
chirping birds illuminate
cats scratch for fleas
morning breezes chill,
fall approaches like a snake
through un-mowed grasses sneak
gaps of summer filled in
famously overlooked by age,
gentle reminders trapped
in corner spider webs only
yesterday pulled down by brooms,
drops in temperature and hearty
meals prepared with hesitation
recant these changes while fires
are kept burning and seasons
change without much notice.

August 29, 2025

The Owl and the Dog

plastic owls on porch steps sit
tied down by nylon twine,
a stray dog lifts his leg and urinates
caustic voices scare it away,
birds on branches high in the air
declare civil disobedience
on the owners of the owl...
defecating defiantly on the steps
a war they tweet out, has begun
even though it goes by another name,
mischief and mayhem witnessed
by porch less visitors in a southern
rural town, goes not unnoticed
in the world of public debates,
writers write the story
publishers publish the tale
readers read in a provoking way
want laws to prevent this happening,
city councils meet in closed chambers
remaining hopelessly deadlocked,
taxpayers howl at misuse of money,
local residents have cookouts
after mowing their lawns...
lines were drawn but never crossed
banners were made but never sold
the dog visits the owl regularly
the owners continue to feed him.

August 27, 2025

In the Zone

day glow colors flash
through the night,
sounds of military
down streets walk,
buildings shake as
ground quakes rumble,
fears replace tears
keeping us from slumber,
light reflected in mirrors
shine in our eyes,
blinding our sight
beneficial in hindsight,
not while enduring...
moments become minutes
minutes become hours
hours become days,
living inside a purple haze,
greeters down the bombed-
out streets, walk freely,
announcing their claims
in foreign languages,
behind the walls we wait
light speckles our faces
traumatized and mesmerized
by the fallout of bodies
now seen in the warm sun.

August 27, 2025