Prohibition

Photo by Pat Corrigan

 

somebody’s ride
died a long time ago
sworn to silence
as all good dead
bootleggers must
heady days bumping
trails where the
coppers were paid
not to keep their
appointments with
justice sweet times
before rust grew
from weeds and
real steel before
real rubber tires
dissolved in the dirt
wild speakeasy years
when staunch patriots
danced in the
boneyards of barren
authority flouting its
artifice governing
public morality

 

 

From my book Bohemian Scents

Trees as Weeds

“Color Study 5” by Carol Nelson

 

some eyes would see trees as weeds
bothersome rather than beautiful
lost to an indifferent lexicon
these the disconnected
disaffected souls drifting
through life feeling
little to nothing of why they are here
how their place in the scheme
corresponds to a purpose
deliberate not predetermined
no story of destiny
rather a tale of design
willful choice to engage with the vibrant
invigorant features of nature
to join the esthetic community
drawn into compact with all living things
shared of that quickening spark
what man loves or demeans in himself
he will love or demean
in his fellow creations
such is the power possessed in each heart
absolute in its truth
that will render this world
filled with trees or with weeds

 

 

From my books Ephemera and Legacies (vol. 2)

Prohibition

“Old Truck in Weeds” Photo by Pat Corrigan

 

somebody’s ride
died a long time ago
sworn to silence
as all good dead
bootleggers must
heady days bumping
trails where the
coppers were paid
not to keep their
appointments with
justice sweet times
before rust grew
from weeds and
real steel before
real rubber tires
dissolved in the dirt
wild speakeasy years
when staunch patriots
danced in the
boneyards of barren
authority flouting its
artifice governing
public morality

Sowing Hope

 

“Man Sowing Seeds” by Vincent Van Gogh

 

 

word-seeds
sowed in soil
of the mind

never certain
if flower or weed
will emerge

 

 

From my book Onionskin

Trees as Weeds

“Ugly Trees 2”
Painting by Diane Kosco
From paintingsilove.com

some eyes would see trees as weeds
bothersome rather than beautiful
lost to an indifferent lexicon
these the disconnected
disaffected souls drifting
through life feeling
little to nothing of why they are here
how their place in the scheme
corresponds to a purpose
deliberate not predetermined
no story of destiny
rather a tale of design
willful choice to engage with the vibrant
invigorant features of nature
to join the esthetic community
drawn into compact with all living things
shared of that quickening spark
what man loves or demeans in himself
he will love or demean
in his fellow creations
such is the power possessed in each heart
absolute in its truth
that will render this world
filled with trees or with weeds

Independent

Photo from
peacegardenmama.areavoices.com

the weed understands
political bigotry
fully despised by
conventional culture
nowhere to look
to learn strength of
convictions but into
its rational self
fully down to its roots
independently nourished
a wise windblown accident
born of brave seeds
thrusting up through
the prejudice puissant
proud and possessed
of a singular voice
a singular beauty
shaming the ground
where it stands an
affront to the clans
of complacency