Poetry

The rain patters softly on the window

framing a grey and cloudy day.

Its gentle rhythm soothes the aching soul.

The wind gently lifts the leaves

as it whirls around the back door.

The cat is unhappy as it stands there

with wet fur and a hungry belly.

Watching the men

Standing around

Trying to act casual

Yet nervous

And unable to stop

Refraining from swears.

After they leave

The truck pulls up

And the gentleman inside

Gets out

Looks around

And then eventually leaves as well.

It seems to me

That dealing illicit goods

Has gotten harder these days.

I am a night owl

Or the tired afternoon seagull

but definitely not the robin of the morning.

I like to sleep

and when I can not

I get grumpy.

Even the elixir of life for those who need it

no longer helps.

Coffee,

my once dear love

is now merely the chosen beverage of the morn.

Sometimes,

Just sometimes,

I awake and actually enjoy the rising sun.

Sometimes,

but most times

I do not.

The body woke up.

It can move on its own.

Coffee was made and consumed.

How I do not know.

Cats were fed.

The children are occupied.

They are quiet at least.

Can I go back to bed?

Please?

It is so easy to fall into the trap

of complaining and mocking

and hurting those who you do not like.

Yet for all that we must keep up our spirits

so who’s for a little game

of smile at every stranger that passes your place!

They do not care.

A profit is all they want.

Lives matter not

as the manipulation increases.

Back to work

means they won’t be affected.

Yet they can hold the threat

of no pay over your head

as you service their needs.

This pandemic is killing millions

and it will end badly.

The times are strange

Ask for health insurance

GoFundMe campaigns

Yet laughter is the best medicine

So why not laugh at our leaders

who are trying to malign and kill us?

Still we survive

and herd immunity

still remains to be attained

Keep up the spirits

and give out the love.

It is the only thing

that can not be taxed,

yet.

The weather is fickle

Or severe

or mild and pleasant.

Not many enjoy dancing in the rain

while others bake too easily.

In the mornings

we never know what will be met

should we venture outside

and yet cats

demand their freedom.

Then turn haughtily away

and watch us stand there

like an idiot.

And I can go out there

To walk and sing in the weather so fair.

…

I must stay inside

while the chirping birds and squirrels play outside.

Fuck.

What can I use for a mask.

Understanding between humans

Knowing an objects or services value

allows for exchanges where society may benefit.

Yet exploitation abounds

and people are fooled into thinking

that their contributions are not as valuable.

So then unbalanced situations occur

as one gathers more than they may ever need

and hoard it from all the rest of society.

For those on the bottom

it is hard to get out from underneath

that fat blocking hand of dehumanizing wealth.

Yet, even though

the ones wearing the smirks

know that they can only keep their money

if they continue to use the labour of those beneath them.

There is the conundrum

that all society faces

and it is telling when you must face others

as to why you treat those you do

the way you do.

Poverty is not a sin

but a situation where

those in it work harder than anyone else

just to stay alive.