Our father

Our father obsolesced,
Our mother nature dressed,
We’re tolerantly fooled,
As everybody’s ruled.

Sex is tweaked and queered,
Religion’s engineered
With victims as their tools.
Deep into the schools,

God’s law unconfessed,
Mankind at his best,
Trades God for creation.
Now we as a nation,

Declare refuse divine,
With deviants align,
Charge God with abuse,
While tracking our caboose.

Lessons of confection


pop tart

In March 2013, seven year old Josh Welch was suspended from a Baltimore elementary school, for biting off pieces of his strawberry tart, trying to make it look like a mountain. It ended up looking like a gun. One hates to think, what panic may have ensued, if a lunch bag had been popped simultaneously.

Now pastry can become a gun, spelling threat to anyone.

For such a random act of thought a lunchroom lesson must be taught.

Best keep your meal close under wrap, to obviate another flap.

Stifle thinking at it’s start, even if it’s just a tart.

Outlaws all within a nation, restricting free association.


Lunch bomb


Test case next I should presume

Popping bags in school lunchrooms

To full outlaw the mother’s meal

Prepared and packed without state seal

Some orphaned child will take offense

As media whips up pretense

Unmarked bags potential threats

Scan each lunch prevent regrets

Mandate some statist slurry

Soylent greening please don’t worry

Each part post consumer waste

Balanced with tomato paste

Free mom’s further from their young

Apron strings must be undone

Homegrown terrorists those moms

Conspirators with school lunch bombs

Art School


Bitten by the art bug at an early age

Off to university eager to engage.

Beauty much evicted, suspended decades past.

All art viewed contextually socially harassed.

Things not what they did appear, even in fine art.

Art was made for here and now, beauty just a part.

It set my mind on overload a paralyzing thought.

What of all the lessons my eyes and nature taught?

Beauty nature’s calling card vision’s rock of ages

Carried underneath the bus with other sealed luggages.

Going getting rough demanding cogent blaming.

Beauty gets unpacked and undergoes renaming.

Cute, poetic, pretty, good, lyric, and antique.

Fashions interfering with our process of critique.

 Contemporary art deceptively sublime

Is anchored in a context relevant in time.

Transcendency upon a shelf, beauty obfuscated,

Aiming just at better-ness will not be tolerated.

Beauty, goodness renegades in line and bending over.

This will hurt me more that you, nostalgia it is over.

Change, react, respond to all that does surround,

Dismissing any part of it is only hater’s ground.

You’ll join the club, you’ll play along, doing as you’re told

You’ll compromise your sacred prize, diploma to behold.

Consensus in the arts rotisserie for Mr. Wilde,

Living hell for students who’s budding passion is reviled.

A Shirt was Worn at School Today


A shirt was worn at school today, the background was hot pink.

 A hundred morphing hearts it had, each one shaped distinct.

You see they did not fill the shirt, they squeezed into a shape,

A simple skull they formed into, my eyes they were agape.

I searched on line for quite some time, to find a similar design.

I could not find the self same shirt, but one of kindred spirit,

Advertised an infant tee, I wondered who would wear it.

Someone who thinks that death is cool, and poisoning is cute.

Someone who loves to play the fool, someone who says, just do it.

Someone who buys whatever’s sold, believes whatever they are told.

Haunting as ’twas worn so bold, the girl autistic, nine years old.