I stand here waving a flag,
The Stars and Stripes—
But it’s lost its meaning.
Freedom and opportunity
Have been replaced
With slavery and condemnation.
The New Deal
Is a knife in the back,
A murder justified
By the greedy goals
Of a man who has no care
For his fellow neighbor.
Only wealth, power and fame
Are the values that count.
Glory is found with hands bloody.
Only the guilty reap the reward.
Kite swim spectrum order tinsel brick
Cold damned olive rude spam cuter
Poison close alleviate cardboard cent
Reel when yonder amputated reverse
Stickler pipe animal sport crush not
Left out in the cold,
I waited
For something real,
Something true,
Something good,
Something new.
But all I got
Was a knife in the belly.
I bled myself onto your shoes.
I can’t see you now.
I can’t see anything.
Nothing comes to mind
Except blood, and pain,
And sacrifice.
What God is it for?
Stopping slowly to sniff the poisonous
Roses that you left me last Election Day,
I seize upon the opportunity to tell you
Something that’s been bothering me:
I thought you loved me.
I thought you cared about me.
I thought you had respect for things,
The way they ought to be.
But all you care about is being in control,
Rewarding your buddies for being loyal
To you and those you choose to help,
Disregarding others who actually need help.
Disregarding the needs of those
Who put you where you are standing.
How could you be so bold
As to abandon the very people who
Gave you their heart, mind and soul?
MAGA blues comes here to stay.
Calgon come and take me away!
People lost, kicked out, shut out, fired.
Never has it been this bad.
Is bureaucracy really the enemy?
I don’t know, but where did this come from?
Locked out, banned, told off, so long.
Never come back, but where do they go?
Replaced by AI, perhaps?
And how is this supposed to make
Our country great again?
The droop is a drop is a smock not.
Can’t knock it out. Can’t make it quit.
Release it! Let it go! Go on, smarty!
A darkness hovers above my head.
A huge blob in the sky, how it whines!
Nigh, how the fancy shines on it!
Create. Go to. Morph. Run. Shoo fly!
Take away my income.
Take away my identity.
Take away my property.
Take away my freedom.
Take away my dignity.
…
What’s left?
A heart, a mind, a soul.
Pain. Suffering.
Hope. Wisdom.
A lesson learned.
I’ll never trust you again,
Now that I know,
Who my real friends are.
…
A smiling face does not mean safety.
An open hand does not mean help.
A fancy gift is not charity.
A threat is not a promise.
…
So, who are you to me?
That is not for you to say.
Your actions speak volumes.
America will only take so much.
The line has been crossed.
Now, you must reap the consequences.
…
Spin track lot spiel road sweet ant oat
Pot language order annihilate tricker
Pound all wheel oral neat viral slack
Load canker toward reel youth really
Justify reading jolly remember angle
Just a note on the psychological and emotional cost of writing nonsensical poetry. It seems to take its toll on my heart, mind and soul. There is a psychic conflict that arises when one attempts to enter into a world where the very opposite of common sense, the backside of knowledge and intellect, is the basis for truth in expression. This conflict arises more fully when one’s mind has been more integrated into society in habit, daily experiences and communication. So, I have become more social, more religious, I hate to say it, but, more normal. Perhaps, some may say, I have become more mature. But this change has taken me out of a world of mental absurdity and meaninglessness, and pushed me into a more stable, more straight ahead reality, so to speak. So, because of this change, writing poetry that defies meaning, like I have been in the habit of writing for over thirty years, becomes more of an exhausting chore, and less of an enjoyable pastime. For this reason, I have resorted to writing Unpoetry less often, and it is become less of a go-to source of relief and solace. I think I will continue to write it, since I believe it has value and needs to be continued and passed on to others. But if I continue in a more stable mindset, I won’t be doing Unpoetry as much as I used to do it.
Walking through my neighborhood,
I see the kids at play,
And the parents chatting.
The young people walk their dogs,
And mow their lawns.
Moms and dads
Drop their children off for daycare.
Healthy people walk
Up and down the street,
Keeping fit and feeling good.
Kids on skateboards and bikes
Roam around, just enjoying
Being active and outside
In the cool winter air.
Men work on projects
In their driveways and garages.
Women tend to little ones,
Running errands
Or heading to work.
A peace falls on the place.
It is good to be alive.
Stumbling along the sidewalk 