It’s free
But you have to pay for it!
Wait,
Are we real?
When did that arrive?
Am I your daddy
Or did you hatch?
The internet is weird!
To Vote or not to Vote
There should be no question.
If you don’t vote you won’t be heard.
Yet many feel downtrodden
a hopeless sense of despair
of nothing they do will matter.
I understand.
Yet remember.
No vote is a wasted vote.
It may not be heard this time,
but someday your voice will be heard.
The Quietest Voice
So much yelling.
Shouting over everything.
No one listening.
The quiet ones speak.
Their voices gain strength.
They will be heard.
Not through shouting.
No.
Consistently speaking.
Saying in their quiet way.
The changes that are coming.
They remain calm.
The shouters keep shouting.
Changes will come.
Half Baked Ideas
The thoughts that I can do this.
I should do this!
I can do this!
I did some of it.
A little more done.
Eh! It’s too much work!
I don’t have the time right now.
I’ll get back to it later.
…
A year later upon review
“What was I thinking!”
Good Intentions
When the lettuce wilts in the fridge.
The carrots get all slimy.
Cucumbers give off that horrible smell.
You find mold on the tomatoes.
The bottle of dressing won’t open
because of leftover caked on residue.
All because you reach for the bag of chips instead.
Roll Suck Vacuum
It moves across the foot trafficked carpet.
Rolling on top of the dirt trapped between fibers.
It draws them out from their hiding places
as they scream silently from this intrusion.
The hurricane forces sucking the very life
out of the microbial germs that sought to merely live.
After a time it ceases to roar
The contents it had acquired removed
before it is placed back in its resting spot
ready and waiting for the next hunt for dirt and cleanliness.
What People Hear Versus What I Say
When I say I am strange,
They nod their heads wisely.
When I say I am not normal,
They concur in an agreeable pomposity.
When I say I am ill,
They laugh and tell me it’s all in my head.
Yes.
Yes. It is!
It is all in my head
and they won’t listen to me!
Which is why I get no help for the illness
that hurts me the most.
Food for thought
The delight when they taste it.
The smells it wafts through the house.
The love behind the cooking.
The wonder and pleasure as they finish
Every
Last
Morsel.
Whether you cooked for them
Or they for you
Food is a language that shares the love we have for each other.
Tea for Two
You can share it in the Sahara.
Or on an Englishman’s patio.
A waft of steeped leaves
Makes a nose twitch in anticipation.
A gentle douse of sugar
For those with a sweeter tooth.
A dollop of milk for others
Who grew up with different traditions.
Any which way
It allows a conversation to brew
And nothing is purer than that.
A Big Mood
It is Dark and Mysterious.
Travel through the world.
Like a Roomba.
Sharp items attached.
Spinning and hurting everyone who approaches.
No one is safe.
I will hide until this mood passes.
Or not.
Saturn's Premier Poet 