Safe-guarded like a mother’s love,
a concept of peace manifests the dove,
flying free, unscathed by jaded thieves,
un-vexed by life’s little pet peeves.

Freedom to love, learn, live with each other,
a growing body of thoughts we take no bother,
obsessive, compulsive, saturating the wet rags
of liberty and truth, now each in separate bags.

It wasn’t always divided like states,
there were no borders or defining traits.
Things like peace were a simple oath
made to wars with nothing left to loath.

Now it takes miles of red tape
to stick a notion like preventing rape;
permits and privileges to hunt and fight,
reasons absolved like our human rights.

It takes wings and hearts of gold and jade
to fly as that dove whom the heavens made.

Bulletproof Vest

I died with my bulletproof vest on,
shot in the side like a dead man,
ricochet from the fire of the burn,

it sears me so.

The metal hammer sends down a nail
five-thousand strong
in my side. I feel it flowing out of me.

What good does this vest do, my body
not protected now; never was, never will.
This vest was just a ruse of sorts,

false hope in a dangerous world.


If I was a product of the 2080’s

If I was a product of the 2080’s, I might hear stories about how things were in my parent’s time, or perhaps my grandparents’ time. All the same, there would come a time or two when I heard stories of history and change, long before any time of my they knew of. We, the product of that enduring turmoil across the world.

There was this time before all that, in 1969, when a million people came together in search of peace, love, and music, at a place called Woodstock. People found a way to coexist for three days with little food, a lot of drugs, and an endless supply of parties for the senses. The parties were on stage; the passionate cameos of legendary artists, daytime stillness in the sun and rain, explosive demonstrations of musical talent, candid late-nighters by famous sounds like Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix, The Band, Santana and more. Nobody would know the names of these musicians except the few and privileged, who listened in school, and saw the grand picture of our creative evolution since our modern renaissance.

If life had to be so different from the world of yesteryear, why are we not as happy as then? What has jaded our minds to think that the world of today is not as satisfying? Innovation and technology have made our world better; a living, breathing entity in the galaxy, flourishing with countless, interactive life forms that coexist and sustain a healthy, natural environment. We are living on the product of collective consciousness, sensible and compassionate and in balance with all things.

Arrows Let Fly

When arrows fly they always point
At those that they will soon anoint
With red wine and its cleansing toll
Which pours whenceforth from uncorked hole

And when the wine has cleaned his eyes
The anointed one a vision spies

I see a field of forgotten Greeks
Surrounded by far off mountain peaks
I see brother Ulysses scheming there
And Daphne with her leaf-like hair
Achilles tells me, “Tis better to slave
Than rule for eternity in the grave”
And so I leave him and cross the plain
For council I might ascertain
A sign in cumulus, nimbus sky
The same revealed to Constantine’s eye
When formed, the sign reveals afar
The Shepherd King’s personal star
And the Blue Man’s hand descends from its veil
To whisk me to heaven by my lone ponytail
The Last Great Prophet now I meet
Who speaks softly in a voice most sweet
We converse for hours but do not walk
In a dialogue where I rarely talk
Until he asks to where I’m off
I say “To the highest mountain top”
And when I start on my journey
The prophet brings the mountain to me
At the peak, ‘neath a tree, sitting cross-legged
Is a wise man with a large bump on his head.
He says, “Embrace diversity
But accept universal unity
To the air, the sea, the Earth, the plants,
And the animals from the yak to the ant”

And then I see a blinding flash
And exhaling, I have peace at last