Day: March 6, 2026

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Be careful of fortresses you build …

This is the last place I lived before my divorce …

A place I built to hide from the world.

In the right circumstance a fortress can be a healthy place of renewal.

In the wrong circumstance, this fortress we build for ourselves can become a grave, a coffin.

Be forewarned: any fortress you use to hide from the world will also prevent the world from welcoming or acknowledging you.

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God Watches

God commands,
beyond stars which shine,
revealing a path to our goal.

God is seated on high,
just beyond our reach.

God watches our souls break,
and our lives torn,
and the wonder of destiny is before us.

Yet,
we sit and wait and hope for prayers answered.
No answers.

God watches with hidden cameras,
from inside a bunker,
beyond,
where it is safe,
several parsecs away,
out of cell-phone range,
where there is plenty of beer,
and laughs.

Human fate is comedy,
and,
humans were made dangerous,
so it is best to keep your distance.God commands,
beyond stars which shine,
revealing a path to our goal.
God is seated on high,
just beyond our reach.
God watches our souls break,
and our lives torn,
and the wonder of destiny is before us.
Yet,
we sit and wait and hope for prayers answered.
No answers.
God watches with hidden cameras,
from inside a bunker,
beyond,
where it is safe,
several parsecs away,
out of cell-phone range,
where there is plenty of beer,
and laughs.
Human fate is comedy,
and,
humans were made dangerous,
so it is best to keep your distance.
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Morning Battlefield

The dark soldier,
bracing himself for night,
lays down his sword,
and waits,
for the coming dawn,
but the storm is there instead.

First Herald,
awaiting noise of fire and shot,
is left in the fog,
without horse,
without hope,
and with gods abandoning men.
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BIG BOX

Endless hours idle,
peering through the glass,
wood,
leather,
knives,
though no person’s gaze catches the return,
and money is left at the counter.

Necklace brings ghetto light,
noting the clean purchase,
nothing is bought for the price,
but small hands still are clasping,
small hands wanting food.

Broken fingers caress fabricated joy,
small eyes attempt the reversing glance,
small hearts beat faintly, tiredly, in the jungle heat,
with every Mall foot print they pant.

“How do they get the stains out?”,
a young lady asks.
“Are these wash and wear?”
“Are these for sale over here?”
“Why is there blood on my brand new jeans?”
“How did it get there?”
No one responds ...
... but with eyes cloudy,
coldly.