Shieldmaiden

It’s Amazing

Yes, it’s amazing

What we believe is

Not coming for us

But

We know

Good and well

Is!

We put sweets into our body

Knowing the crash

Is going to come

But we eat them anyways!

The drunks drink their drinks

Hoping

They escape the hangover

Coming the next day

But it will come

With all of its glory

All of its misery

All at the same time!

The voter wants

So badly to believe

The politician’s lies

Knowing deep down

There is no possible way

They can deliver

All they have promised

And

The ones who become life long

Anything

In a position of power

Become

Way to Godlike to the masses

My mother used to say,

“The preacher needs to go after

A few years. Because the flock

Will start to worship him

More than God!”

Yes

Food, alcohol, money and greed

Will all lead

To your soul being consumed

By the wolves of the world! 

Like Tuberculosis eating away

At the lungs!

We all are guilty of wanting

Something different

Than what we know

Is on the way

For us

Shutting our eyes to what we

Clearly see leading to its arrival

From my book,  When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Workplace Machine

The morning sun

Bends and twists

It changes

Minute by minute

In the reflection

Of

The buildings

Sky-glass

Windows of sparkle

All for the lifeless sheep

To gaze upon

As they crawl

Their way into work

Their faces are long

And

Lost of expression

All because

They’re waiting for

The workweek to begin

Waiting for the coffee

To drip from the dripper

Self-inflicted misery

For another day’s pay!

God knows how many times

I’ve been in their shoes

And

How I’m still there

A few days a week!

Within a few hours of working

The counting of minutes will start

A quick glance at the wall clock

To see

The day is far from over

And

The Boss

The Shepherd

Is constantly frowning

His smile was lost

With the collapses of the market

The fall

Of

His 401k something-another

His morning

Drives at the range

Are now nothing

But a memory

A thought

Fleeting at that!

So the sheep

Have good cause to worry

To sweat

To cry secretly

In the restroom

But before all of this

Worry in the workplace

This stress to make

Green colored paper

They must travel

Like ants to the mound

Bumper to bumper

The sheep

Are fed

To the workplace machine

One soul at a time

Losing all that was

And

Becoming all they never

Intended to be!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Gasping For Air

Breathing is something

I once took for granted

Now

The sweet smell of spring

Is dulled by a plastic mask

I must wear some days

Just to move about outside!

The thick humid air

Of

The South

With its Rough Barked Oaks

And

Lime Yellow Pines

Towering into the sky

Is a place

I’ve only known as home!

I once walked freely on this land

And enjoyed

All that surrounded me

With no care

With no worry

Of

What I was breathing in!

Now

Each Spring

I wonder what’s drifting

In the sweet southern breeze?

What could collapses my airway?

Like a flower wilting

In the hot Summer Sun

One speck of pollen

One speck of dust

Is all it would take

To take my breath away!

My mask

Is now my protector!

My mask

Is now my best friend!

Each morning

I look out

On the soft rays of light

Field flowers

Glow in an amber haze

In the distance

The air is buzzing

With the hum

Of

Honey bees

The spring buds

Are blooming

Bursting out

From their wintry shells

Stunning to my eyes

Although

I know better

Than to smell them

I’m glad to still see

All of this beauty

Even if it’s

While wearing a mask

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave