My arrow has found its definite dream
Betwixt shoulder left and shoulder right
A smile so big I knew at once
I could hide in here for more
I knew the depth had only dipped
Into still, shallow shores
So much more I felt I knew
I read it in the stars
That filled my eyes and led my arrow
Around the world and more
And back again to build a home
With a back like yours in toil
And a love that kept us up at night
Your left shoulder to my right.
Tag: right
I Am Angry (day 2459)
I am angry at the Americans
For making the world one big party
And leaving all their spending
Polluting our fields of plenty
I am angry at the Chinese
For building these resorts
For walking down the streets
Disrespecting different cultures
I am angry at Canada
For lying to with a smile
Rolling out the red carpet
Though the green flag flies high
I am angry at the Petrols
For neglecting human health
For letting all these diesel fuels
Spilling into atmosphere
I am angry at the Youth
For not taking hold the change
For not demanding to know better
Though they stand up for pop cult
I am angry at the Voices
Speaking so strongly inside
Obviously in rhythmic lies
I am angry at the Religious
Who say their faithful
Are more right and devout
Who align their one clear path
Though they preach unanimous love
And acceptance for all those left
I am angry at Myself
For not knowing how to stand
Though I see clearly my knees
That rest here in the shade
7 Pounds (day 2381)
I’ll play here to get my soul
To get myself together
Another chord struck against
A blackening string inside
And as I move from left to right
I’ll forget I ever crawled
Into a set, into a space
Into my soul tonight
Purple Pants are Right (day 2066)
My purple pants have begun to stretch
Into what is now a rich, royal blue
My teeth, they chatter back and forth
But in this wisdom: nothing more
I propose to block these three freedoms
For they each halt my ability to capitalize
On what has always been naturally me
Now I shall usurp liberty
A statue shall fall to build a wall
And my money God, you shall learn to serve
Until too late, for the end is near
Though I shall not call all so dear
This is a game, rags and all
For my warriors shall build as I say
And my plans will overthrow each day
I will make all Right again
I will make all Great again.
Protest Poetry (day 975)
What was the arctic before it became an oil well?
What was a forest overrun with trees?
What was my name before I was a sibling?
What was my right before I’d been stamped?
Did I come straight from a hologram?
Was I brought home on a road?
Whence and where from did the light come?
And the warmth, did it come before gas, painted and housed within four block walls of a thousand pixels per inch?
Where did I walk to before a wood chipped trail led my way?
How did the day fill before the calendar?
Can a city be a city without city lights?
How did one tarry about a late night corner before floating electric drones showed I was withing safety?
Because dammit, I’m starting to wonder
Is there any point in the quest?
What is the point in stuffing our bellies?
Where did the idea of nik-naks come hither from?
How did function get replaced by aesthetics?
When did choice become demand?
When did want become a dire need?
Why did our brothers and sisters turn from extensions of ourselves to examples of our desires?
When did we lose all of our trust?
And where has my community resettled?
Where has my tree grown its roots?
Where is my moon?
This is a protest poem
Passing By (day 880)
Perhaps I shouldn’t have heard it
Ears pierced forever more
That lay me down
To press me round
Into oblivion
But who was I to say it nay
To say it wasn’t right
For passing by
As I was high
Hardly did I note
Say it is true that now I sit
Wondering what then went on
It wasn’t mine
To kill the time
Gone my piercing truth
Sometimes (day 105)
Occasionally
I fall into a bliss
Or maybe not quite serene
But focused at any rate
A time filled with desire
Loss for right and wrong
Just an image
That fills my countenance
Nothing but direction
Goals
An end is always inevitable
But like all emotions
Like all movements
Who knows when it too shall end