Angel Tears

Oh

Will it ever stop raining?

Will the angels

Ever stop crying?

At least

Long enough for the sun

To

Shine!

So my tools

Will

Stop rusting

So my tools

Will

Start working

Because

The dollar is slim

On these

Long wet days

When you make a living

Working in the dirt!

Too much rain

Is far from refreshing

When the crops

Sour

In the fields

When

The mud soaked ground

Can no longer

Sustain them

When the ditches

That need

To be dug for a paycheck

Collapse from

Rushing water!

The car washers

The landscapers

The irrigation men

The roofers

Are all out of work

On days like today!

So

Here I now sit

Looking out the window

Into the black and blue clouds

With their

Thundering roars

And

Heavy sounds

Like Gaye Advert’s Bass Guitar

Rumbling its riffs on stage!

I sit watching flashes of light

And

Small pieces of ice

Fall from the sky

These angel tears

Have become

My judge

My jury

On

Days like today!

White crookneck cranes

March in procession

Off in the distance

Palm trees sag and drip

On their ends like hair

On a sheepdog!

Still waiting 

I think back

On

The drought years

How miserable

They were!

How they

Snuck upon us

Like a thief

Like a pickpocket

Stealing moisture

From the landscape

The sun scorched

All in its path

Relentless waves of heat

Turned

Crops in the fields

Lifeless and brown

Roasting them

Under the burning sun

Day after day

We watched

The earth dry up

It cracked and flaked

Like dead skin

Then blew in the lonely wind

Blew over equipment

Blew over rented out land

Blew over barbwire fence-lines

And

Cattle moaning for food

Then shadows crept in

And covered the ground

As clouds

Finally started to form

The windmill creaked

As the cool wind picked up

Then the rain came

And

Gave us relief

If only there was a balance

Too much

Too little

Can affect many

That depend on the weather

To survive

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Crosswalk

Waiting on the skate park

To dry

After

A long night of rain

Is a good time

To write!

Down time

Is

Write Time

Most times!

Opening my journal

My pen starts its flow

Of

Ink across the page

The familiar scratching

Of

Its tip is always

A welcome sound to me  

I saw a woman

This morning

Trying to cross

A busy six lane roadway

On my way to the park

She threw her hands up

In frustration

When she realized

She was stuck in the middle

Of

The road!

Standing on the small curb

Of

The median

She looked less than thrilled

I guess

The crosswalk

Would have taken

Too much time

To walk over to

Hell

I can’t blame her

Times ticking for all of us

Tick tock

Tick tock

The feeling of time

Running out

Is probably

Hardwired 

Somewhere deep

In our brains?

To look for shortcuts

In life

Can pay off

But sometimes

Shortcuts

Leave us stranded

In a place

We don’t want to be!

For

The thin slab of concrete

She was trapped upon

Can easily be

The unwanted job

The bad relationship

The wants

You really don’t need

So

Step true

Step with purposes

If not

Your steps

Can lead you to misery

Can lead you to being stuck

With nowhere to go

As life passes you by

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Wasp And Spiders

I watched a wasp today

Dragging a spider

Back to its nest

For dinner

Now that I think of it

It was a dirt dauber

Yes

Definitely

A dirt dauber!

Spiders

Must be a delicacy?

For

That is all I ever

See them

Dragging home!

It’s one hell of a dance

This winged hunter

Does for dinner!

For

One wrong move

And

The wasp could be

On the spider’s menu!

I guess

In one way

Or

Another

We’re all dancing

For the next meal

The real question becomes

How much are you willing

To dance

To survive in this world?

The

Dance with death

Between

The wasp and spider

Was magical

I’m sure

Isn’t everyone’s dance

With death

When the time comes?

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Lamb’s Quarters

Lamb’s Quarters

I see you

And

Your kind

Growing in the

Sludge filled runoff

From

This oily parking lot!

You look healthy enough

To eat

But

I know better!

Your

Bluish purple stem

Is

More than likely

Flowing with

Chemical carcinogens

From

Dripping car motors

And

God knows what else

This city has been fed

To keep it alive? 

Cancer salad

Is not on the menu today

Yet

Cancer seems like it

Is

Everywhere these days!

It has to be

Coming from somewhere?

The world

Is slowly being eaten

By the mouth

Of

Greed!

Livestock is pumped full

Of

Hormones

Or

At least that’s the rumor

Poultry is twice the size

It was when

I was a child

Profits of companies

Come

One tasty bite at a time!

It’s almost impossible

To consume anything

Not pumped full of something

Before it’s sent

To the processing plant

To be killed

Gutted

Hacked up

Sawed

Sliced

Quartered

Then packaged

For our dinner tables

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Judge

I can only judge

By

What I’m shown

So please

Show me truth

Or

Be the best at lying!

Do your job well

So

I’ll have

Something to smile about!

Like a pig

Being lead to slaughter

Lead me with

Your best deception

Your finest performance

I do require a skilled liar

A skilled deceiver  

By this point

In my life

Because many

Have come before you

With

Tasty desserts of deceit

Lies of such

Mesmerizing beauty

Any truth at all

Was impossible to see!  

So today

Cut me down fast

With your finest words 

Like the sickle slicing

Grain in the fields

Or

The butcher draining

Blood from the lambs   

So

I’ll never know

What is really before me

Sing your lies and lullabies

Tale me your fairytales

Sale me your pipedreams

Show me your alibis

And

I will look blindly

Smiling at the Trojan horse

Before me

While your army

Of

True intentions

Waits quietly inside!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave