When hammer falls, and nail is driven deep in vein, piercing those with hands to heaven, a raging flow of protest stirs, and the dam’s crack promises an empire’s dust. Tyrants fear, as the heart reclaims fallen blood its own, never again owed or again stolen, never to be the red in crime scene canvas,…

We would be miserable if we were happy. When we’re not glowing like demons we’re dull. Dull with no halos or self-centered spotlights On us like sniper dots. If it were easy and nothing could haunt us And everyone fell into each other’s arms And slept in the hay like celestial lovers, That would be…

Two women recently described my grandfather in the following stark language: “He was a monster.” My mother drapes herself in a denial she thinks is wisdom. My mother told me to see the good–see the full person. Well I see the whole person. And I see the man who shook my aunt until she dropped…

incredibly simple it seems and of no single occurrence it’s not of value, nor rare the more you look – it’s not there a pair of eyes won’t resolve what had to evolve a cancer set into the flesh enter a nest of a secret web spun you are aware it is there the footprints…

Tempered, as steel, our bonds are set The pressure builds On a horizon infected with death We walk forward Like the flickers of light That follow the spiral To the center of it all Falling in, we streak the sky Stretched by the inhumanity Demanded of our world And we hold tight Deep are the…

Excuse me – –             in which aisle                         do I find                         bootstraps             for the                         mentally                                     exhausted? Oh, nevermind. My wallet was stolen             by the man                         in the suit

When the temptation arises To discount one’s contributions to equality  Based solely on what might be between one’s legs Perhaps best not to do so Just because some humans have genitalia that dangle Grotesquely and profanely for all to see And other humans have secret gardens hidden from sight Means nothing in regard to misogyny;…

Rise up! Powers of the Abyss!  I call forth the Abominations of Desolation—  Powers of Darkness, I summon Thee:  Entangle the Oppressors—  Serpents of Darkness, I summon Thee:  Fill the Oppressors with Venom—  May their every breath be laboured, that they may cease to breathe;  May their sustenance be Foul Poisons, that they may cease…

Reminder I am Trump America Master Card Guantanamo I will janitor my retirement cleaning churches I attend and pretend belief in their services I use to shine mine, fooling no one on intent winning tolerance with kind Precariously, Word! Out of my mouth I get a five syllable word cha-cha heelingly hooked. Allusion? Most won’t…

Another death, Another dearly departed friend, Another memory where a comrade once stood. Another breath, When will it end? Why I’m still here, I’ve never understood. Why this time? Lack of healthcare? Overdose? Hate crime? Refusal to share? Beaten by police? Choked or shot? Or maybe just left In prison to rot? The questions dance…

Brown uniforms are real. Rifles are real. Soldiers are a social fiction. Blue uniforms exist and so do their guns. Policemen, my brothers and sisters, are a social fiction. So many primitive ways to keep us in check. Or is that too Budddhistic a view for you? Building a new world in the shell of the old Begins in your head. If you’re…

As our flag was raised up the mast A feeling of hope at long last Arose in my breast Only to be suppressed As the half-way point was surpassed Of Hitler, one thing can be said: He raised the bar high over head Antifascists are sure To remain premature Til six million and one are…

You might remember the May Day poetry feature last year, centered around remembrance and emotional release. This year, we thought probably everyone (at least those in the US) could do with some election-related self-expression. So we’re doing another poetry feature, this time centered on election day. I’m selfishly naming this one after what I’ve been…

Соединенные Штаты, став постепенно менее религиозными, одновременно укоренились в квазирелигиозной идеологии своей собственной коррумпированной двухпартийной системы. Благочестивые либералы «крестятся», вновь подтверждая свою веру в Демократического Спасителя, пришедшего в ноябре, — цепляясь за свою веру в демократию, не понимая, что система, которая, как они думают, спасет их, является той самой системой, которая создала нынешнюю политическую ситуацию….

If the United States has become gradually less religious, it has simultaneously become entrenched in the quasi-religious ideology of its own corrupt two-party system. Devout liberals figuratively cross themselves, reaffirming their faith in a democratic savior come November–clinging to their faith in democracy without realizing that the system they think will save them is the…

The following is part of the 2019 May Poetry Feature at C4SS.  I was born defiant from the beginning, religion a brief reprieve and then to my surprise hell for eternity. I saw death, strife, war, disease and power as my enemies, no god ever answered. A Calamity. An early note of peace ran through…

The following is part of the 2019 May Poetry Feature at C4SS.   locking talk on haute cuisine means of squeeze sequester session in lessons descended from heaven epiphany sitting in the plastic order territory through ‘tis trough business degree sipping tea content so forgetting hints at difference in clinch hitters mystic sits hocking sunflower language pangs in…

The following is part of the 2019 May Poetry Feature at C4SS. I could make a color chart For the melodies we sing But I’m sure there’s no piece of art For the comfort which you bring Harmony and passion could kill a king Tearing down these walls they built And arriving as this being…

The following is part of the 2019 May Poetry Feature at C4SS.   pick ply plumb lungs from empty attic static attack addicts on half racked grief from thief in their solace state has haphazard lack luster map maker she hits finished slits across concrete constables and rips a thick lap victory vein in her golden hair stains…

The following is part of the 2019 May Poetry Feature at C4SS.  Something caught within your throat this morning, As I listened in, Some roughness at the ragged end, Trying to begin. And as we try another day, I hear the wheeze increase, I hear the fear and pain and grief, Like instruments at play….