I went to the Chicago World's Fair,
but the world was no longer there.
In Chicago, in 1933,
I went back in a time machine.

A century of progress in dust,
the spaces aliens made a bust.
Invasion of the body snatchers,
destroyer of dream catchers.

Most of the nation unemployed,
but the space aliens came from the void.
One hundred years of expansion,
space aliens invading the Dawes mansion.

W.P.A. created by Roosevelt,
New Deal dealing cards dealt.
Space aliens creating employment,
in outer space redeployment.

Rand McNally world atlas,
cut down by an alien's cutlass.
A new vision for the exposition,
the space alien's ambition.

Inside the great hall of science,
the aliens kidnap with defiance.
Inside the house of tomorrow,
aliens take human bodies to borrow.


The world fair benefited the sponsors,
who were a bunch of space alien monsters!
Inside the different midget's village,
the aliens would come to conquer and pillage.

Then I got back in the time machine,
and traveled back to 2023.
I knew why we're all robotic,
and people are acting psychotic.

We're being controlled by the powers that be,
it all started in 1933.
A century of progress,
has led to a giant mess.

writing poetry was your idea,
not mine
 
I just wanted to have some love
read others' books
and fantasize
being recognized
 
then you put my name
on your poems
did books and used
my signature
 
I couldn't pretend
we both know who was responsible
 
It was all the time,
you gave me your voice
and I used it.
 
but I know you will take leave
one day,
and then what?
 
What am I to do with that?
be an old voice mimicking 
you?
Will anyone believe?
 
Or will I just fade into the sunset
carrying one of your books
with my name as author
 
and the words inside
the ones you squeezed out of me
when I was too weak
to put the pen down
 
our ruse
our sin
became the words 
we're in.

New
year, new
you. All year
long you harbored
the uncomfortable
luxury of changing
your mind, deciding not to
live your life for money or for
status or short-term glory alone.
Wisdom says, Glory disappears into

thin air, like dew on an August morning.
You decide to live for the simple
rewards offered by faith, guided
by the desire to lay one
thin layer of goodness
on a wounded world:
healing salve for
the new year,
the new
you.

Month January, coldest time of every year,
All this occurs upon Earth's Northern Hemisphere.
                                                      
Folks view the white and fluffy snowflakes...fall to ground,
So quietly, they dance their way by swirling...round.

The children play and make snowmen, and throw snowballs,
They slide on ice, and skate 'til dusk....when dark time falls.

The soil, moist, will stay and keep....in frozen floor,
For cold and ice.....prepare the land....with gifts....galore!

As Earth does spin and travel....round the warming sun,
So quietly, Earth's growing season....has....begun!

Dear January, thank you for your ice and snow,
And for preserving beauty....yet to come and glow!

They scrape the sky
higher than the eye can see
their ride with the earth's rotations
to greet the beams of sun

and spite the forces of nature 
gravity, water, fire, and air,
their steel beams 
bending but still unbroken
swaying to and fro against
gusting wind and rusting rain

to last standing there 
before dawn's light
and after twilight's gleaming
and cast shadows over 
humans scampering below 
from concrete trails into holes
to do deals of high commerce 
from suites above
where eagles circle 
to view prey below
left outside to hide

to awe as fountainheads 
spilling out the glory of empires
from ancient Egypt to modern Manhattan
and displaying the technology of their day 
building monuments of stone and steel

and from dismaying toil of thousands 
at command for service and sacrifice
with dedication resolute
from authority absolute

so viewed and revered as the 
eternal statements of human spirit 
defying Phanerozoic extinctions
this humanity of the Anthropocene Age
reigning supreme — Ecco Homo!

Yet the ground beneath trembles
from moving continents and oceans,
bellowing fire and ash from deep
and shaking mountains above

and fire and wind raze the surface
as a beast without passion or purpose
grinds under its feet buildings and hills 
devised by humans and ants
and dreamed as giants in the earth

in this Anthropocene Age
following the five extinctions of nature
oblivious to the ancient empires
of Egypt, Persepolis, Rome, Maya, Angkor Wat
and to still presumptuous and present cities 
of Dubai, New York, Kuala Lumpur, Shanghai 

so fated as vanity of vanities to resist
the power of nature and law of change
their steel bending then breaking 
and falling back to the ground
from which they came
as did the mountains 
from ages ago

their remains strewn
across the history of grandeur
once proclaimed unshakable 
yet crumbling apart a grain at a time
dripping downward from the hourglass
higher than the eye can see
by the greatest kings
fated to their end of dread
as Ozymandias said:
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
No thing beside remains.

Gauzy skirt
	swirls like black water
	overhead,
 
stirred by a pointed foot—
	marble limb flung
	skyward
 
by the dancer balanced
	placidly, daintily
	below.

Thank you so much for your thoughts and your prayers
It really does show us just how much you care
When the bullets are flying and we're all filled with dread
Your thoughts and prayers will be in my head
When it's all over and the news has been read
It will make all the difference to those who are dead.

Regulating bedrooms and bathrooms, you'll jump to the call
Making sure no one is out of order, or in the wrong stall
And, no doubt, you'll make sure we're safe from ourself
Regulating bodies, minds, put the science and studies back on the shelf,
No hesitation you show to mandate training and license to drive
Far less regulation for the firearms, designed to take lives.

In our churches, our schools, even our parks we all see
Body-bag evidence of the N.R.A.'s fight to be free
From the shopping mall to the workplace
Compared to other nations, body count disgrace
But after all, we surely understand your frustration
Without lobbyists filling your pockets, how can you possibly lead the nation?

Thank you so much for your thoughts and your prayers
It really does show us just how much you care
When the bullets are flying and we're all filled with dread
Your thoughts and prayers will be in my head
When it's all over and the news has been read
It will make all the difference to those who are dead.

Our sons and daughters, many more young lives lost
For your re-election bid, you see it a worthwhile cost
After all, the lobbyists and supporters of the N.R.A.
Won't just give those precious votes away
So each day as the body counts grow
Gives us peace and comfort to know
You'll send us your thoughts and prayers.

Thank you so much for your thoughts and your prayers
It really does show us just how much you care
When the bullets are flying and we're all filled with dread
Your thoughts and prayers will be in my head
When it's all over and the news has been read
It will make all the difference to those who are dead.

All around the
 
		Covenant tree
 
The Muslim raced
 
		the Hebrew,
 
The Christian tried to judge
 
		the outcome,
 
"Cease!" cried
 
		the Holy One.


(Based on "All Around the Mulberry Bush"
from Nursery Rhymes Your Mother Never Taught You)

Ripe seeds fall on moss covered land
Rich black soil sifts through hands
Flowers of the breeze lightly dangle
Nodding from stems that are angled
Dutchman's breeches hang in a row
White trilliums quietly make a show
Violets grow in the blue eyed grass
Dewdrops shimmer as if made of glass
Splendid broad leaves twist and bend
The unfurling ferns start to extend
Bleeding hearts of love and respect
Trout lilies with fishlike specks
Shooting stars burst open with flair
Whispers from fluted bells in the air
Buttercups fill and start to pour
Sweet William covers the woodland floor
Spring beauties with slender tubes
Patches of blossoms that enhance the view
Jack in the pulpits stretch and yawn
As songs of many birds greet the dawn

As the earth spins into day and night,
so the human soul basks in light
and quivers in darkness.
And as the earth sometimes has foul weather,
the soul too has it hurricanes and rains.

Hope and love are, were, will be.
Hope is God's eternal nudge in our ribs.
Something is ahead
and, knowing not its shape,
we push toward it nonetheless.
Hope pulls us.

Love is everywhere, and always has been.
Love existed before we came to join it.
Love made us.
Love makes us make more of us.
Love is God's radiant comfort in our souls.
Love binds us.

With hope to pull and love to bind,
we need not fear.

When all is seemingly lost,
when it is nighttime in the soul,
when there is wind and rain,
there are yet two forces to sustain us.

Hope.
Love.