Archive for the 'Writers Interest' Category



The Tower

As morning brightness

sparkles on water far below,

a tiny silver bird turns toward me,

grows into a screaming vulture

and shakes the tower

beneath my feet.

Orange  fingers reach through

cracks and holes,

seeking me,

hot breath against my back,

urging me along.

A young woman stands,

head pressed against the outside wall.

dread and pleading in her eyes.

She comes to me,

her fingers searching for mine.

I open them to her.

Seared by the inferno,

we spend a silent moment memorizing each other,

as dark tendrils search between us.

She swipes a fist at smudged tear trails.

Together,

we step to the window ledge.

Sharing one last glance,

our hands grip tightly.

We escape into cool, blue air.

Changin’ Times II

There was a time generations ago

when the frail held a special place

at the family table

 

            we wanted to love

 

There was a time generations ago

when we sat at Grandma Mary’s feet

and heard her stories

 

            we wanted to know

 

Now is a time of

bleach     bland food    walkers

blaring Fox News

 

            stored like teacups in a cupboard

Hyphen

Carl Shakey married Becky Tree

became my parents

so I was

Chuck Shakey-Tree

 

a few months ago I married

the beautiful daughter of

George Dull and Brenda Axe

my new bride, Charly

told me today of our pending child

 

I ponder the burdensome name for a child

to learn to spell

Carl or Carla

Shakey-Tree-Dull-Axe

Poor Choices

O, let America be America again –

The land that never has been yet –

And yet must be—          Langston Hughes

 

Children are foolish

 

to be born of parents

with no parenting skills

 

or the temerity

to be sick or malnourished

 

or to have nothing

and come to a land of plenty

 

or commit the crime

of darker skin, different tongue

 

as a nation proclaiming God

and rejecting His will

 

can we provide

for the least of these?

Togetherness

“I’ll be everywhere…. Wherever they’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there.” John Steinbeck,  The Grapes of Wrath

 

each new day kills plans

to earn his way,

in all this land there is no place to go

 

his daughter wears

a tearful, crooked smile

her hunger a spear run through his soul

 

his promises come flat

and meaningless

his shame floods every corner of each breath

 

until he hops a freight

and goes away

to try and send a dime to take his place

King Rick

Say Rick, old partner, old hoss
it’s about time
for you to pack up your bags
and ride on out of Austin

I grew up thinkin’ I had the smarts
to decide a few things for myself
Maybe others feel the same way

Maybe folks with darker skins want
to vote and have it count
Maybe some women
don’t want you running their lives

You got your tail in a bit of a crack
when you tangled with Wendy Davis
fussed at her like your wayward kid sister
when you didn’t get your way
She put on her runnin’ shoes
and stood up for us commoners

The third point I want to make is ….
well hold on to your britches while I think of it—
I guarantee it’s important
just skipped my mind

For Gabriell

For Gabrielle
a madman
left a silver trail through your brain
mandating you give up your life

stubborn you stood against
the gun that does not kill
refused to go

you battle through each day
wet with frustration’s tears
cheers for each small victory

Now you fight a new battle

you stand with raised fist
whisper your battle cry

“enough”

and I
stand with you


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