Taste of My Tears (a poem)

Blood burn spewing vile hatred
Inside this hideous twist cycle
The same screaming from you
And the push into the grinding
Leave me alone, will you?
Can’t you hear me crying?
Or do you like the taste of my tears?

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Blood Drowning (a poem)

Rage gun fury
Blood on my face, blood on my hands
Blood everywhere
Bloody Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday
Blood every day of the week
Dip your phone in blood before you check the news feed
I woke up in my bloody bed, washed my bloody head
Blood at the grocery store, at the schools
God is crying blood
I screamed; blood spewed from my mouth
Stars and stripes soaked with blood
Blood on the streets, up to my ankles, like Morrison said
Blood drives for the loss of blood
Bleeding out in the 3rd grade
Blood from the suicides
Blood from moms who cried
Blood from those who died
A wave and tide of blood
Drowning in blood
Mix it with the mud
Wash everything in blood
Soak the soil, the bloody roots
The tree of blood, tree of dead wisdom
Tree of hanged men, tree of dead kin
Take my blood, it’s yours to keep
They like it this way, so let’s serve it up
The exploded heads and chests
The body parts in the classroom
The bloody assault rifles
The bloody protests
The blood we give
Born in the blood, death in blood
Take my blood, it’s all yours

Author’s Note: RIP America (again).

(Photo by Max Muselmann on Unsplash)

Blood Feud (a poem)

I don’t know how this war started

but I know its ultimate end –

blood feud over pieces of land,

lustful for riches in the sand,

exploitation of earth,

mass machines churning

in desolate fields –

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Durable People (a poem)

we are durable people

roughing thru pandemics,

storms, & various other

upheavals toppling

societal norms

the breaking point

must come sooner

rather than later

when frozen pipes,

price gougers, &

relentless deliriums

make folks show

true stripes

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When Day Becomes Night (a poem)

when day becomes night

people tuck into beds

drop their heads

on puffy pillows & blankets

back from coal mines & factories

of fear, soaked in mud

smeared with oil of

dire times –

they were once in their primes

these working men & women

but now bones hurt

spines shatter

blood splatters

when day becomes night

(Photo by Uvi D on Unsplash)

The Faceless Woman (a poem)

The faceless woman chases me through vacant city streets –

lights on in every home, but no one’s there,

just us, running in dreadful silence

my heart beats so fast it feels as if it’ll burst

from my sunken chest, plop on black concrete +

continue to beat to the rhythm of the pulsing ground,

as a brilliant moon looms above, hangs over us,

shines blinding light on my ghostly skin –

I’m living in sin + if the woman catches me,

I’ll surely suffocate + gurgle black blood

from a wicked mouth –

No! my mouth is gone, covered by slimy skin,

+ I’m gone, in her cold grasp at last,

the world collapses inside of me +

I wake as a newborn in some

distant jungle landscape.

(Photo by Gabriel on Unsplash)