THE WORLD WON'T END
if I post no poems
do read the older ones
till then amen
slightly unfit
will be better soon
eyes and ears
lost to the moon

13 years at the back of my mind I have
been hiding just because they will ridicule
me for how I have looked up
to you ever since I was a just a child
and you always have seen me as a child...
You felt the need to protect me from others because I was
lonely and had no friends but though 13 years
has passed I never forgot a single
detail of everything.
Physically speaking,
emotionally speaking,
mentally speaking...

Looking through a concrete barricade,
of a forever standing fence.
Edifices created to keep me in,
while jailers whip me with the price of wages.
When I am but a dime a dozen
of evil task masters that only see green.
I recognize the means to their grab bag hands.

I can't take any more of this
left handed
slogan speak.

Incessant
flabby blabber;
hum-drumming echos
of mob configured
convention
and label mongering.

Dissension has become iniquity,
post-modern heresy,

and those deemed guilty,
summarily sentenced;
to be smitten by
shrieking beat downs,
scarlet pillories,
and shaming ostracism.

And megaphones don't make one sound more clever.

Summer 1947

[Grandma Longo :1874-1947]

She walked in slow motion
with the soft summer breeze
black cotton dress swaying
past her knees
strands of white and yellow hair
floating gently in the air
the ponies had come that day
grandma was blind
I took her by the hand
and she showed me the way

we are in a filthy enviroment
we have burned places, created fire
smokers taking control of the world
built squatter camps
are we even healthy
Mother eart is crying out
Is it the future we want?

public transport has grown please upgrade you vihicle
police have demolished the sky
teargas has calmed the strikes but has destroyed so much
is this the way to go?
Mother earth is crying out loud
Is this the future that you want?

The slow beasts of expediency are slouching and lurching
east of the western sea, waiting for their christos, anointed one to
trot home after the votes are totted and they have rebuilt Rome,
in their dutiful stable, and the dreadful norm can continue

A beautiful ugliness is borne by that country both wide, great
and filled with love, heinous hate, vitriol by the black gallon
will float them along for another four years
and the ears of the young will hear the same old song

This world has more
than many trees
mostly are visited by bees

few like you and me
love the forest breeze
so come and reach out to me also
if you please.

Let the hope drive you forward
that she may one day see you
dangling there on the pavement
an ice-cream in each hand
your semi frozen gifts melting
in anticipation.

flowty
flooid
flitty
surprizery

loopery
sloops
awhoosh
excitasee

squirmily
wormy
wobbledy
runs

loosey
goosely
twistedy
fun