Posts for June 6, 2026 (page 8)

The dogwood legend:
Suffering made beautiful
A withered blessing

In memory of Buzzz: 2019-2025

Wrung like a rag,
Damp but not a drop to squeeze
Why do they sting so much?
Short changed on sugar,
Only juice remains

freedom is in arriving
becoming what I have always wanted to be
unfettered
living only to create and merchandise
what the very dirt we stand upon has to offer
practicing the art of ancients
a love affair painted green and yellow

We raise . . . our hands
               our  voices  SILENCED   STRANGLED  
                                    AS LIES LYING ON LIES LIE ON THE LIAR

not a clap or souls resounding quiver . . .
yet          STRONG SOLIDARITY SYNTHESIZES  

our  Acts of Truth vibrate
                                                            from Souls no longer imprisoned                                                             from Souls brought to the brink of extinction                                                             from Souls no longer indebted nor silenced 
                                   
                                                           LISTEN
                you can still hear their Souls’ whispered scream
                                             
                                                            RISE UP . . . 
                Ours is a nation born of bloodshed
                poised and positioned to proclaim freedom’s privilege
                                                        ever willing to endure the weight of this prize

                 haven’t we always held a SCAPEGOAT’S feet to the fire
                 the one made to feel less than all the rest . . .  

                echoes of our brothers’ and sisters’ chant
                resonates in our souls . . .

                RISE UP       
                    BROTHERS & SISTERS,  
                           SHAKE THAT DEVIL OUTTA YOUR SOUL  
               LISTEN . . . TO THAT VOICE                                                
                                                            IT SPEAKS TO YOU
                ALL DAY . . . EVERYDAY
                SPARKS YOUR DREAMS                        
                        LOFTS YOUR VISIONS
                                SETS YOUR SOUL & BODY FREE!

I am the ground I walk on
One foot in front of the other
Walking forward

I am the air I breathe
Breathe in, breathe out
Full of life force

I am my thoughts within
Inner beliefs, outer creation
All this I am, I am, I am.

Chain, chain reaction, chain of events. I feel the chain hung round my neck and bite it to inspect. Yes, it’s solid gold. I am so swag; I am chained to the rhythm, and everyone follows the chain and flashes their own, but are we in chains? Or perhaps interchanged, waiting so long for change we forget our hands chained behind our backs; pray chain break, break chain till the rhythm. It’s compressed, oh link chain, chain link up outside; we’ll create community by chain smoking. We puff and we pass and maybe we pass on, in succession like the clink of a key chain. I refrain, I think. Where do I stand in the chain of command? Yes, that man, chainsaw in hand, cuts off our hands so we can be free? In this? The promised land. Maybe this chain is a noose. I am strung up with stolen gold, unchanged, and the chain, the chain, the chain—it continues.

The sting of the needle
sends a wave of silence through my body 
like a surge of peace 
while he tightens my jewelry 
another after another
until im covered head to toe 
a simple hobby 
a feeling i crave that nobody knows

I’ve spent my life waiting
moving only with others
afraid to stand out but needing to be known
waiting for the sign
I wouldn’t trust
For the moment I would
feel ready, ready enough
to break free of the 
mold I didn’t say yes to
but also never said no

And yet a bulb makes the dangerous
choice to push up through the dirt
not knowing but trusting that the
sun will still be there
when it breaks the earth

it is too hot.