Thomas Paine Would be Aghast

heart down to the black beat earth
swollen with the lyricism of the season
pounding blood through the fading veins of militant games
power and guns and the will to kill
for oil or sex or some such swill
I drive a car over your grave every day
and she is whoring for a new blood diamond broach
or an orphan slave crafted handbag by Coach
Bombs to kill tanks and a free air space
oil and money this death is my honey
Libya, Egypt, Saudi, or Bahrain
freedom is second class to Islam and gas
those cats in muslin will be wrapped in it
buried as they are beneath the mullahs and the moolah
theocracy and technocracy what democracy
can they hope for under them thumbs
thugs and clubs and rubber bullets and Americans
I wish we still had a democracy

The Discarded Sand Pale

We must lose the tender sapling
to bring forth the towering Fir
The tree you are has garnered another ring
each strata adding to your strength
but I am so sad to see that spurned yellow shovel
and the discarded little bucket
we used so often enjoyed together
rolling down the beach
I hated the tedious sand castles
but I loved and still love the time with you
you have been the source of my joy
and I pray you grow straight and true
to resists the lashing winds
and the inevitable tests
straining the grain of our life
I hope you absorb the strength of that sea
the smell of that adjacent verdant grove
and the memory of each laugh and each hug
for I have all that wealth to give you
if only you are wise enough to safeguard it
deep in the forest of our hearts.

Thinking of Japan

The tsunami was devastating to watch
the BBC reporter said "there are people in there"
the farms washed away, with food and dreams
villages disappear beneath the bracken
and then there are the atoms
let free from their cage they went crazy
and who knows who will suffer for that
someone somewhere really must be angry with us
i will stick with my paltry problems
taxes and car wrecks and long commutes
for I would not want to test my mettle against Japan