Sometimes we can be fooled...

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April one... for all fools day
but what say you
this I say

Times have not changed
by much
except the planes fly faster
thus
they bomb with such an awful
crash
and leave behind smoldering
trash
and bodies who cry in pain
yet he still lives the fool saddam
who thinks we may not know his ways
his schemes, deception and some say
that we should leave
not help the ones whose lives
have all become undone
by evil men who cruelly rape
kill and maim and use Sarin
to rid the pests who cry freedom
like you and I enjoy each day
without a thought we demonstrate
But woe be to the self thought God
who smirks behind a fake facade
with human shields he barricades
his littleness, his coward-self
with forked tongue and vile bi-face
he sends the brainwashed in his place
to defend his farce unholy plan
but let me say to this low man
It’s over now, your reign is done
It’s not a joke, freedom has won.*


*
Written right after the start of the Iraq war while I still believed in President Bush, I have since learned he gave the American people false
information... What a shame. J

A Red Box...

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She searched through the cupboards again
she might have missed something.
But she hadn’t.

Alone on the shelf
sat a half empty jar
of peanut butter.

And at the table
sat five children.

She searched through her purse.
Four pennies.
She ran her hand down
between the cushions on the sofa.
What’s this?
A Nickel? Yes, her heart leapt.
Hope surged where none had been.
"God don’t let me down."
Nine cents. What can you buy
with nine cents?
She continued the search,
in the medicine chest.
her housecoat pocket
the toy box.
And then in the window sill
behind the bed
she spotted something
gleaming in the sun.
Three pennies.
Three pennies.
Now she had twelve cents
wrapped in a handkerchief
clutched in her hand
she walked to the store.

Twelve cents.
"What can I get for twelve cents?
Bread? No that’s thirty-one cents.
Muffin mix? Sometimes it’s on sale
five for a dollar.
No. That would be twenty cents."
Searching..

there on the shelf
sat a single box of crackers.
Crackers?
She checked the price.
Twelve cents.

Sometimes
a feast
comes in a red box.

©Vrd9/6/99

What's yer flavor?

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My favorite flavor
is easy to see
It’s whichever is there
in front of me
Like cheese and sauce
oregano
to make a pizza
I love it so
Then there’s a luscious
walnutty dream
called Rocky Road
Chocolate Ice Cream.
One pie stands out
from all the rest
with coconut and cream
by far the best
Turkey and dressing
thick savory stew
scrambled eggs and bacon
orange marmalade too
spread onto pancakes
dripping with butter.
Bananas and cashews
make my heart flutter.
Each has a flavor
different, unique
I should pass them by
but I’m terribly weak.
So my favorite flavor
it’s easy to see
is whichever is there
in front of me.

Vrd10/26/01



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Free Falling

I will not sleep.
No more, no more
I close my eyes
and as before,
I’m walking on
the highest ledge
and as I look
beyond the edge
there’s naught to see.
It’s too far down.
I reach the corner,
step around.
There is no railing,
nothing there.
I slip, free falling
through the air.
Past never ending
dreams I go.
I sail the darkness,
no below.
I wake with promise
as before.
I will not sleep.
No more. No more.

©Vrd5/19/99

How Long is a Lifetime?

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I don’t think I want to do this anymore.

I want to move away where necks are not so red, heads are not buried in sand, where gossip is against the law and the punishment for lying is wearing a long nose in public.

Who cares the gender of the earing wearer?

I feel like screaming, "Just let it go, people. Just let it go. Take your time and extra energy and build a house or something. Go help out at a homeless shelter, an orphanage, a children’s hospital. How will it help the world if you point fingers, teach maliciousness or condone absurdities? What is your contribution to society anyway? Is it your goal to cause discontent? Who the hell are you anyway to judge another human being? Repeat after me, "There but for the Grace of God go I. Where is your compassion, your understanding, your love?"

I have to get away.

I need to be where people care and do not judge. Where the air is clear and babies aren’t crying. Where hunger is just a word in the dictionary and nobody hits anyone. Where a child is the result of love and not an unwanted nuisance who pays for his parents unwillingness to use protection. I’ve never figured out why a child is beaten for the sins of their fathers. Sad, very sad. Why so much fighting? Why is there a need for someone to inflict pain on another using either words or hands. Pain is pain and sometimes on the inside pain is more intense, more devastating, more damaging and sometimes that pain lasts a lifetime.

How long is a lifetime?

I want to move where I can climb a mountain or smell the ocean, see the wild flowers, lie in the shade and listen to the birds sing as the breeze rustles through the trees and cotton clouds form pictures in my mind.

And nobody hates.

© vrd8/15/2001


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