MY SON, a chant

MY SON

DEAR SON

YOUR SON DEAR SON

MY SON

OUR SON

THEIR SONS

DEAR BOY

YOUR SON

DEAR BOY

OUR SONS

DEAR SONS

YOUR SON

THEIR SON

THEIR LIVES

YOUR SON

MY SON 

HIS LIFE
DEAR BOY

OUR BOYS

THEIR LIVES

MY SON, YOUR SON, OUR SONS
THEIR LOST LIvES

for the boys no longer ours.

The Final Bow

 
The Final Bow

April 23, 2016 by le artiste boots | Edit

The Last Bow

Floor, please?
Going up.
Hello God
Its the Artist
Formerly Prince.

Nashville Now and Then

Nashville Now and Then
The oozing mud 
Sheen 

Relieved  of its burden

Breathing parched air

Cracking its first smile

This century..

Bulldozers press down

Ignoring what lies beneath ,

Perhaps a spoon 

Or hand of doll,

A musket ball

Lodged in a skull

Long lost, forgotten

Not archived

As native

Soldier, child.

Time is short
The lemmings swarm

Upon beaches

Of mud

The migration has begun.
Nashville Then
Twenty-year olds

Will think forty year ago

Is ancient history

But like yesterday

Arriving in the heat

Of Fall

It took a year or two

For the artist’s eye

To see the beauty

Of budding life

On trees

Before green tangled all

Even the palette

Of Bird on roadways

Was rich history.

An empty house of tires

Or a new ‘lake’ after rain

Reduced to mud

In the sun

Subjects disappearing.

Only remain

As watercolor and oil.
Not only are traces

Of history

Erased

Our comfort

And ease

Replaced by fear

How long will we

Be remembered here?

A Poem About Eyes

I want to write

About eyes.

What lies before them

What wakes behind

Spiked guards

Hidden, cunning

Shielded from light.
Instead I sip

From your briny pools

Put my lips in your lake,

Still pure,

Draw breath 

And the river floods

It’s ocean of metal.
I drink to your Caesar

Who never knew 

his enemy 

From a friend

Nor a truth 

From lies.

Being You

You can’t Look up

While looking

Down.
Up is hope

Light, blue

Warming too.
Down is down

Deep, like glue

It holds and 

Folds

Until you don’t

Know who.
But in between

Whether day

Or night

Look up 

And down

And East

And West

Stand tall

And bend to test

Are you you?

Neither up or down

Is best. You can’t
Look up
While looking
Down.

Up is hope
Light, blue
Warming too.

Down is down
Deep, like glue
It holds and
Folds
Until you don’t
Know who.

But in between
Whether day
Or night
Look up
And down
And East
And West
Stand tall
And bend to test
Are you you?
Neither up or down
Is best.You can’t
Look up
While looking
Down.

Up is hope
Light, blue
Warming too.

Down is down
Deep, like glue
It holds and
Folds
Until you don’t
Know who.

But in between
Whether day
Or night
Look up
And down
And East
And West
Stand tall
And bend to test
Are you you?
Neither up or down
Is best.

Counting, a poem

Counting

1

Living, outliving

Statistical

Miracle

2

Preached by

Dr. Benjamin Mays

“It does not particular’ matter…”

It matters to me

Now

When that magnet

In the sky

Settles on me.

Or misses like the drone

Dropped near the skier

I follow the news

While making it

NYTimes

Have plenty of ink

Roll presses?

Not yet I think

Just get ready

I tell myself

I want to know

If we can go

14 light years away

To another world

On a new day

3

Not enough sand in an hourglass

Not enough sea glass on the beach

Not enough hands on the clock

Not enough joy

In the world

4

Under

What’s under

The sea?

Below the surface

Roots

And history

5

It’s all here

Going round and round

Spinning and mixing the people

Blending new

Some with, without shoes

Clay on a wheel

Build or collapse

Make new

Be bold

That is the goal

Moment

Momentous

Moment-us
Moment just for us

The days
Are pleasing

Rushing like 

   a Waterfall

My favorite

Is still Fall.

   Drawn on Paper app

Captured design UZU  

    Encaustic. Private collection

Can Do

Can Do
I can do it all
You can hammer a nail

At that I dont fail

I can do it too
You can lift a bail

I can lift two.
You can run and jump

And swim and hunt

I can do it too.
You can load a truck

And lift a car

I can drive it far.
You make the rules

I pass the tests

Better than the rest.

I can do that too.
You make a team

All men it seems

I can too

As well as you
You fight in war

History proves

I can too
I can birth a baby

And raise it too

Is that something

You can do?
I can do it all.

Controversy about women Rangers in the US Army

Under Gran’mas Chair

Great-grandmothers lost their glassesHad us looking here and there

Only to find them

In her hair.

Now that I’m a grandmother

(And a great- too)

Pretty sassy with an iPad

But lose it all

Under my chair!

Memories

  
Memories 
Annversaries like birthdays 
Slip away

Tides rip our castles

From the sand 

Leaving seaweed

And sea glass

To reflect gulls

In the air.