Bang, smash

Old Sol burns through morning lace and mist
After circling,
Somehow placed to coax a blue-pearl world,
And we live.

Our star, our firmament
And we
were birthed in a collosal throe
Far from any memory

From an unimaginable,
dense pinprick.

Sol, its worlds, our eyes
watch red shifts as sun, earth
And we
Careen from other celestial bodies.

Ages later, a future generation,
Perhaps, may see a turn to blue,
As sun, maybe, and globe, maybe
And, maybe, we

Face the possiblity
of starting again.

Sun’s end, creation’s pause,
Return to smash,
Fill imagination, trouble dreams
And, we live.

[Thoughts on a morning walk after reading cosmology.]

American Dream

Willie Jones released this anthem in January of 2021. He’s country but his own kind of country.

Proud to be a Black man,
Livin’ in the land of the brave and the free.
Yeah I’m all-American,
And that American dream ain’t cheap.
We’ve come a long way,
Still got a long way to go,
When you’re livin’ as a Black man,
It’s a different kinda ‘merican dream

Couldn’t resist a little rhyming

Tossing rhyme

My neighbor shines like a light.
Gardening is a delight, and a landscape invites.
Snow flies white when flashing shovel bites
into drifts from a snowfall overnight.
My walk appears and my neighbor grins with delight
beaming as other tasks invite…

My neighbor tells me that all can be quite
that sight. The coal inside
yearns to be consumed brightly
without wasting heft, its might.

We can be knights, my neighbor tells me,
but might, fright and spite can
blight delight
and plunge into night
despite the call of that carbon mite
to set it alight.

Some, says my neighbor,
fear the soul’s hope in flame,
and toil to control, to dole out
here a bowl, there a poll
fearing the whole when we lose control

Of the soul, that yearns to burn,
learn and turn to
incandescence.

Demolition Man

A friend suggested this Police oldie as the Trump farewell song. Nailed it!… especially given the Capitol debacle. Apologies for yanking the tune out of its context. It’s based on British politics, but it’s apropos, regardless.

I’m a walking nightmare, an arsenal of doom.
I kill conversation as I walk into a room.
I’m a three-line whip.
I’m the sort of thing they ban.
I’m a walking disaster.
I’m a demolition man.