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An Idea of Tomorrow
Pencil drop,A teacher providesOut of pocket.It’s their own dime. Yet, passed amidst discord,She cannot see nor sneerUpon such meager coin.She holds too dearWithout fearHer own dime. Now is the timeTo live…WITHIN our timeTo see that which plaguesOr fellow’s friendAnd to welcome thoseWho learn strifeIs always the day’s bitter end. Why not be better?We are better. Open our arms.Open your arms.Do not let inequity ruleNor the golden houseOnce white fallTo this gilded flameOf populist rancor Fueled By a divide bled between us.…
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When a Bullet Strikes the Rain
Vanishing, one following the nextEyes squint at the darkDroplets sizzle with staccatoSpeed equates to the searA path laced with intent Quaking, she envisioning the casketFinger flicks from the triggerFabric unweaves with requiescenceChoices lead to outcomesAre all paths laced with intent Shattering, both losing the memoryAir blasts from lungsSkin rends without discoursePain asks what is betweenWhat paths are not laced with intent Hating, he admonishing the regretPistol falls from gripLead digs without remorseFragments dissolve to voidIntent pervades even after death
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Jazz at 5AM
I had fun relearning cursive for this one. Hope you enjoyed it. The text is below. Jazz at 5 AM Creaking bones These rusty hinges conjoined Weighted down, this solid ground Grinding another man’s toil While ink dries in the pen The muse withers and petrifies Like a raisin misplaced on a darkened shelf My appetite wanes Under the pressure of banker gains To find my feet To relearn the intrepid burn Repeat
