Some hardly work and are lucky,
some work hard and are lucky,
some have just no luck at all.

Some cannot get lucky,
some do not believe in luck,
some really rely on luck.

I believe that luck is made,
such as making the plane,
which is more than happenchance.

Happy lucky has no regard
for space or time
and demands their place.

Joyful lucky pays attention
to space and time
and hopes for harmony.

Both must abide by flight time,
outside of their control,
but inside of practice.

“I’m ready when I’m ready,”
happy says without regard
for who is imposed on.

“Thank you for being ready,”
joyful wholeheartedly says,
celebrating being one.

Indeed, the plane flies with both
connecting them with other
for better and worse.


The way is always through.
Of course, this is nothing new.

Sometimes I wait in silence,
hoping the door will open
on its own without offense.
Alas, I must move again.

But, my entry is blocked.
Sheer strength will not make it give,
I am closed and it is locked.
Change I must if I’m to live.

If I stay I will smother
and languish in pure chagrin.
I could wait for another
and let them find the way in.

But, that is their way not mine.
I wish I knew what was there,
make a plan to force the line
that would make it easier.

OK, I must turn the knob
and enter despite the threat.
My heart heaves a heavy throb.
My body shudders with sweat.

Of course, this is nothing new.
The way is always through.


Justice speaks the truth

Justice is blind
with ears covered
Mercy is shocked
with mouth covered

Justice gives nothing
and takes it all.
Mercy takes nothing
and gives it all.

Mercy listens with respect
and convenes with a fiat
Justice will not hear of it
and adjourns with a quid pro quo

Mercy opens a dialogue,
“Here I am”
Justice closes the book
“Guilty” or “Not Guilty”

Mercy truly listens

Bold Goal

I was summoned to the Office;
a call had come from corporate.
I knew no good can come of this.

Cautiously I entered the room,
and sat down hoping against hope,
that I could walk on the water.
Alas, the message was of doom;
and, no one could throw me a rope.
My own words lead me to slaughter.

I was flayed by corporate’s rod
and wallowed there in self-pity.
“They” could care less about the why –
Function follows form for façade.
Yes, compliance makes things pretty,
I wrote rules, I cannot defy.

“Don’t they know; this is an outrage?
I’ve forgotten more than they know!
Why do they have it in for me?”
“It’s true, then, you’re on your own page,
you take the lead and they follow.
Tell me, how’s that working for you?”

“I’ve lost the battle and the war.
I see the error of my way!
OK, fine I can change it back.”
“Wait, not so fast, you must do more,
it’s a pound of flesh, you must pay,
sing their song to avoid the sack.

Reverse the clout of the gossip,
and call them to change the subject.”
There is magic in listening –
From fond feeling flows fellowship.
“Hey, big guy, your plan is perfect,
your scheme is worth remembering.”

Lesson learned, it’s all good, again,
back in charge of my destiny.
“Through adversity comes enlightenment.”

Alternative Facts

Don’t piss on my shoes and say it’s raining,
duplicity is the real terrorist.

We see, if you disagree, “you’re fired”.
We hear, if you cause problems, you’re gone.
Blow smoke up his ass and you’re admired.

“Mandated” by the skin of his tooth,
with factless frenzy, he betrays what’s real.
It’s his truth and nothing but self-served truth.

Un-resilient he must have agreement,
he tweets “I know you are but what am I”,
and then demands respectful testament.

He does not listen and speaks with forked tongue.
It is his hubris that troubles me most:
despite his bottom’s line, his crap is dung.

The extreme vetting is so ironic,
he issues orders like he’s herding cats
and disenfranchises with the sardonic.

Resistance might be pissing in the wind,
and trusting this gilded narcissist rough.

I Have a Dream

Your young shall have visions,
and your old will dream dreams.

I bend but do not snap.
Stumble but do not fall.
The way through is to trust;
stand there to do something.

Listen to the silence.
Listen to the rancor.
Listen to my neighbor.
Listen to my shadow.

I live life in discord;
Love love in harmony.
I stop to smell blossoms,
I pause to welcome all.

Wait for all to keep up.
Wait and begin again.
Wait and change the end.
Wait for community

We can put up with us.
We can take care of us.

Let Go Let God

It’s hard to give over control,
as if, I ever had control.
It’s hard to say, “I’ve lost control”,
assuming I was in control.

I’ve noticed some just want answers,
and there are really no answers.
I’ve noticed some make up answers,
despite questions without answers.

I cannot create solutions
grasping at straws aren’t solutions.
I cannot scope out solutions
best laid plans don’t make solutions.

Letting go takes a lot of work
exhausting and soul-jarring work.
Letting go goes beyond my work
it requires soul-searching work.

In time of trouble, “Let it be”.
I cannot construe, “Let it be”.
In time of triumph, “Let it be”.
giving Her credit, “Let it be”.