Showing posts with label No War With Iran. Show all posts
Showing posts with label No War With Iran. Show all posts

Saturday, May 2, 2026

Little Black Box

 Little Black Box

 

God grand creator of the universe

By whose hand the Earth’s form took

No matter how profound the verse

Could you be contained in a book?

 

Omnipotent infinite able to do all

To be in a block box ever so small

You’re able to make real the slightest whim

Would you make a home in my poem?

 

Black and white laws a system of rules

They quote the Bible as perfect fools

Twisting manipulative serving their own end

They mock your Spirit and call you friend

 

Crystal clear to Love it is to obey

Yet their love is but a word they say

In slavery bound by their sin and desire

They claim the truth but each is a liar

 

The little black box it sits on my table

Whatever your will it is then able

The little black box I put it on my shelf

I look inside only to find myself

 

A firefly captured by children in delight

They gaze at the magical mystical light

You’re in the black box I have no doubt

Perhaps one day I will let you out

 

These words perhaps they depict your soul

To show you love yes that is my goal

In a little black box tiny as a star

In a little black box is where you are

 

Contrast, there is heaven there is hell

You’ll see the difference it is easy to tell

Love is the word written on my heart

In a little black box never to part

 

In a little black box kept secure

I wish it was something better something more

A little black box they do not understand

From deep within there comes the command

 

Listen my dear one and yes you’ll hear

But could you hear and not know fear

A little black box convenient in hand

I wonder if you’ll ever understand

POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor


Saturday, April 4, 2026

Forty Years

Forty Years (For Leonard Peltier)

 

Forty years

Bound by iron and stone

Many tears

Weeping alone

 

My brothers and sisters slain

Should I have stood

Idle in my pain

Would that have been for the greater good?

This land

It is still ours

Understand

Each of Mother Earth's scars

Rips apart

My soft and tender heart

 

I AIM to be free

It is my dream

So shall it be

Whether by whisper or scream

 

On the horizon there is rising a red storm

We shall never conform

Truth can never fail

We shall prevail

 

Forty years

In defense of what is right

Forty years

I see the dawn breaking in light 


POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor


Friday, March 27, 2026

Chancellor Avenue

Chancellor Avenue

 

The stars don't frequent

Chancellor Avenue

But on the odd chance

That they do

It won't be cause

They are flaunting the laws

And counting the cost

No they would be

Simply

Lost

 

In the White House

They have celebrities galore

Every day on the plate

They got some more

Phony and fake

As the politician's smiling promise

 

So why the great divide?

We're all equal

Huh

When they need cannon fodder

Brave patriots

To kill and die

They'll flood Chancellor Avenue

With an impeccable lie

 

But let me get you some related news

About Chancellor Avenue

You can get the best of the best

To be your honorary guest

No matter who

We'll out do you in the blues

It's true

On Chancellor Avenue


  


POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor


Sunday, June 22, 2025

Summer

 Summer

 

Spring will bring everything

Insects hum while birds sing

Flowers blossom in power

Forever is but a brief hour

Thunderstorms crash with lightning flash

Green is seen everywhere and in between

Love is on the scene

The glory of the story lies before me

Days stretch long

Making love is never wrong

In the depths of the forest I belong

Vibrant and strong

Kiss me with gentle lips

Hold me as time slips

Sunshine divine

Happy you are mine

Rock stars playing in cheap bars

Half price on secondhand guitars

Riddles pushed away

We’ll pay the piper another day

So wise in our foolishness

Mainlining pleasure seeking more of this

Writing poems that rhyme

In the eternity of time

The second hand of the clock ticking

You and me sticking

Closer than twins

With sweet sickly somber grins

Understand high hand wins

A double measure of pleasure to recall

And suddenly fall

While all of you and me

Are but a fond memory

And so in the subconscious you slumber

In infinite summer 

 POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor