11-8-2016.

(This poem was inspired from a Shape Note song called Babylon is Fallen) 11-8-2016 Hail this day so long expected, Hail this year of full release. Trump's walls shall now be erected, And his watchmen publish peace? Through the Shiloh’s wide dominion, Hear this American loudly roar, Clinton is fallen, is fallen, 'tis fallen. Clinton is fallen she'll rise no more!! All of Wall Street stands with wonder, 'What is this that has come to pass?!' All her followers in gold clad sandals Crying, “Oh alas, alas.” The hidden thunder sounds so distantly Hiding Swifted Doom for sure The Queen has lost the kingdom she sought so feverishly, Clanging on the distant shore... Swell the sound, ye kings and nobles, Say your with her to the end. Priest and people, rich and poor; Has rejected her corrupted sins. The House of Clinton is fallen..is fallen!!. The House of Clinton will rise no more. Blow the trumpet in Mount Zion, Christ may come a second time; Ruling with a rod of iron All who now as foes combine. Wall Streets garments we’ve rejected, And our fellowship is o’er, Clinton is fallen,shes is fallen, shes fallen Clinton to rise no more. The House of Clinton is no more.

Paris, November 13 2015

Paris, November 13 2015 When you find yourself blasted by the heat and staggered by the dreading drum beat of hate. Remember your hope. When all is cold, and all is seems to be laid on a deep cloke of darkness. Remember the day. When all life seems to be blasted by the hot winds of division...shriving up your garden of life. To be consumed by the flames of violence. Remember the rain. We have overcome, surly we shall overcome! Be not afraid of dark, the dark will seem to encase you..but the light will pierce it! Be not afraid of the tide of hate...it may seem to sweep all before it. But it shall have its waves broken down by a wall of love. The wildness of injustice may have its day, wreaking havoc on the innocents. But love shall tame it and it shall have the final say! LIGHT SHALL ALWAYS OVERCOME!!

An Ode for Spring (2015)

Ode for Spring. Although winter has officially ended I seemingly unmarried stand unattended. Waiting and wanting my lovers embrace once more. The North-man winds still bounding and with his strong will he binds my heart his strength is astounding! But my heart longs for my true love, throughout his shrill gray storms. Dare I speak his name? Like some talisman of old will that new hope seep in my veins and uplifting my heart for brave and for bold? Zephyr--the west wind comes and my heart rises. For the Northman's winter breaks from my heart at last. And the memory of winters wearying grinding-despices of trodden hearts, Zephyr breaks the fast!

Never.

I will NEVER be the beautiful gay man I will NEVER have six pack abs. I will NEVER have the perfect nose, mouth or teeth. I will NEVER have enough money. There will ALWAYS be people who will NEVER take me seriously... That's ok.... You know what?.. I HAVE been LOVED! I KNOW people who find ME attractive. I KNOW just how BEAUTIFUL my SOUL is. I HAVE something to GIVE to people. PEOPLE LOVE ME! I'm now LOVING MYSELF The rest are LITTLE THINGS...that can or cannot be changed... That's ok... I have been LOVED I can LOVE People can and have accepted my LOVE That's ok... I'm growing in every single WAY!

Takk Fyrir. For Ingolfsson. On looking at the words that he wrote for himself. On looking at the words that he told me. I am…he is…who am I? Who am I to hear such words speaking when his life goes creeping…among that wayward shore. Who am I to wonder…if this ‘Ice Man’ should be humble. To sing to me his life’s long score Should his loneness be punctuated by siren call incorporated? –into of emotional goals shroud the twin tottering towers that guard his valley floor? Beauty! Yes High Beauty Devine. Ensuing his Lifes Glory Devine. Because of what is hidden must be made known. Though rock and ice…water, fire and stone made known. Grinding, molding and groaning. Iron strikes iron hot. Love strikes the world cold. ‘ You shall not go alone to your own bones’ Your bones they be white and hard—buried beneath flesh and lard. Strike not this “Ice Man” on that long shore today. ‘Let me be with him!’ Lord I pray. Two and three willingly be one. I pray that you stay along your Path il lumated by the sun . If our path that’s quixotically twain’d allotted time runs its course. Let me say to the fathomless world… Let me say to Love unfulfilled… Let me say to Life unlived… Let me say to those eyes—full of youth and wisdom. “Hear this ‘ Ice Man’ whose shorn by his own will from north lands ancient. To wonder fruitful and peacefully to lands hither and yon. Bendiction. May Grace and Beauty clothe your skin! May they reveal the glory that you have within! You ‘Ice Man’ of whom wisdom will shine. Whose feet is put on a path that’s inspired Devine!

Today.


In the Morning I wake
I wash my face.
And I say to myself…”today-yes today will be a good day.”
I hear whispers, and still I’m determined to have a good day.
I prepare myself for a day of living.
I say to myself in the morning as I wake… Today-yes today will be a good day.

The sun travels across the sky, hot. Birds sing lazily in the maple trees.
I say this in the morning as I wash my face.
Today-yes this day shall be a good day.

The sun rises and the whispers advance the day.
My heart quickens, and they fade.
I say as I wash my face.
Today will be a good day.

During the long afternoon heat, in the height of summer the whispers die and in a sigh of relief I say as I wipe the sweat off my brow.
“Today will be a good day” I say.

The sun begins its rest in the western plain, the birds start there short summer nap.
And as I wash my face and hands…
I say…”today was a good day.”


copywrite 8-1-11

A Kenyan Road.

I do not know the name of this child who is walking…
Down roads alone—darkness stalking…
In brightness of the day—the sun is clear this little child walks alone…does she fear?
Down the road alone daylight is stalking a dusty road alone is treading—walking.

Who shall walk with her when the winds of life blow?
When will the rough places pass plainly straight?
Will she escape life’s line of poverty’s (below) embrace?
Will she ever know life’s glare…or hate?

Who is she who walks down that Kenyan road so plainly trod
Down paths alone in dusty sod?...

O child of dust! Leave off your weeping, for there is nothing creeping ‘neath the underbrush to make your heart sore.
Remember your promise and keep your soul honest to prepare yourself for the love that you have in store. Remember the promise that you are keeping—for your living soul love is sweeping—the mud and life’s detritus by the dusty wayside shore.

O child of dust! Bathe yourself in light and come walking, down the road where sunlight is stalking, to lift you up in arms to protect you from dusty storms. Down that African road that child came a’ walkin’ where sunlight and yes- death may be stalking down a lonely Kenyan road where life…isn’t sure…