Saturday, June 20, 2015

Hornswaggled and Bamboozled

OK so here we are again
kayak in a whirlpool
twirling and batting
hand against the hull.

Haven't drowned yet,
amidst the hornswaggle
and bamboosle. You know,

You are still here too.

What do we want?
We don't know.
Do we want this?
We don't know what this is.

We came for something,
and then we forgot.
Whose to blame? No one.

Lost and found yet again,
amidst of the hornswaggle
 and bamboozle.

Spirit has a warped sense of humor.

OK... got it.


Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Tall tales tell all

Tall tales told by small snails tells all
in the slowly plodding drift in the dirt and sand

it's a tale I can't stand or sit as I planned,
but I lay down to comfort the colors I command.

Yes, I do as other before me have felt this way too.

Women, get off your knees while the patriarch
do as they please, you have life from your womb
rise up and uplift your sisters and please do it soon.

Would you raise your sons to go off to war
and daughters to cry when the bell tolls for more
lost lives in a wasteland of a disastrous making,
while you in the kitchen with talents a wasting?

No kudos for cookies and spilled milk, the blood
thicker than water is part of the ilk as slippery
snails spin their tales of silk, silken lies, old blood
never dies... you can see it in the eyes.

There is a new way in the light of a new day,
be proud you know the profundity of the sway,
it's not here to stay. It's cornered and scared of
your nurturing way. For now, it's all I can say.

The snail is patient in a plodding way,
the slivering snake just got in the sway
to tell you that You are the way.  So take
off the veil of your disbelief and love your
children: sons and daughters, I bequeath.

There are slinking lies, you know them
you do. They are quoted by the sons and
daughters that mothers once knew.
They were programmed that way, but now
in this time there is unprogramming to do.

I'm in for the long haul and I'm knowing
you are too. Whew! It's hard to write words
in a world that's untrue.

Love always wins... the snails are slow.
Tall tales are the first programming to un-know.