“Fiolent Mountains in Crimea” by Andriy Chebotaru
appalled by democracy’s murmur
heavily armed red-soled boots plant
their hammer-and-sickle beachheads
amidst Russian expatriate cheers
mindless of fragile unsettling sands
unmoved by the bluster and blather
that uselessly fogs western airwaves
will abrupt annexation ensue to commit
amputation of new Ukraine dreams
(originally written at the time of the invasion in 2014)
From my book Bullets from Bones
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
rejuvenatement - not retirement
Poesy plus Polemics 