Typically uniform.
Unexpectedly coloured.
Green overlays blue
while red and black swirl
in a riotous pattern
of elegance.
Pink and orange
invite yellow to party
and everyone
takes the back seat
to purples
handclasp with gold.
The rainbow
really should include Puce.
The doughnuts have gone missing.
The thief must be around.
The bakery doors are closed.
No others are to be found.
I dare not laugh
For fear the white dust
Around my mouth
Tells more of the tale
Than I would like.
Calculated intensely
Still results in horrific actions.
The attrition of human life lost
Is not the best use reason.
Expected or unexpected casualties
Are always the innocent.
Why do those in charge
Think we must accept the fires?
Trust is broken repeatedly
And sometimes the decisions
Are all bad.
Thin line of essence
stretching out toward
Mind’s eye sees the destination
yet all I see is fear.
We all see them as less.
No one wants to see them.
Can you imagine their world?
Or do you ignore the fact
that you are counted among them?
We all say being different is great
but truly
how often do you celebrate that?
See them for who they are.
Look past you eyes
and turn that thought
“Well, just go and do it!”
into
“What do you need help with today?”
Filthy varmints.
Cute and clean pets.
Disease carriers.
Entertaining playmates.
Lab experiments.
Trainable characteristics.
Which do you prefer?
You or your rats?
When you watch.
Sit still listening.
Feel the weight.
Pain crushes down.
Hope flickers briefly.
The light dims.
The scream rebounds.
Red tears awash.
The bomb shatters.
Life is gone.
He can hear it
as it prowls.
Coming closer.
and closer.
To the hidey hole
he has taken refuge in.
When at last
the biped calls his name
he zips towards sanctuary.
Inside the house
his human can protect him
from the whirring monster outside.
The geese have arrived.
Snow is melting.
The sun comes out more.
Moods are lifting.
Then nature sends another snowstorm.
10 inches expected.
Tears threaten.
Voice choked.
Body trembling.
Unasked for
yet so familiar
this age old
denial
refusing to be
washed away
once again.
Can I still be true
if I break down
once again?
Saturn's Premier Poet 