pop's poetry

Category: Society

  • sunday projects

    Creating something from scrap wood
found in my garage amidst the tools,
wanting to be given a name.
A table,
for the cat,
a cat table,
she must have.
The little black kitty can eat in peace
above the reaches of dog breath
away from the thieving blue jays.
Out of sight,
in a dark corner,
a perfect setting,
for stealth meals.
Hand sawn with tools new and old,
the creation comes to life from a sketch
on the last of wrinkled graph paper.
A table,
for the cat,
a cat table,
she won't like.

  • minimal wage or the root of all evil

    I'm wealthy and you're penniless.
I'm a homeowner and you're homeless.
I'm loved and you're lonely.
I'm employed and you're lazy.
I'm clean and you're filthy.
I'm happy and you're depressed.
I'm a citizen and you're an alien.
I'm blessed and you're cursed.
I'm chosen and you're not.
I'm better off than you
specifically because
you're worse off than me.
That may seem obvious,
but see, if I paid you more
I would have less.
Still more than I need
for a hundred lifetimes,
but less than I want.
I hear them say that
money is the root of all evil,
but really, being poor is,
at least from the view of
my penthouse corner office.

  • dad vows

    I promise
to lovingly hold you until you can crawl,
crawl patiently with you until you can walk,
walk peacefully with you until you run,
joyfully run with you as long as I can.
And when I can no longer keep up,
I'll still run, walk or even crawl to you
if you need me to hold you again.

  • no more

    heart aches
soul cringes
anger rises
reality hinges
on the complicated death
of simple lives
praying
for blessing
for healing
for salvation
kneeling 
and falling
into a deep despair
for a country dividing
so deeply
cleverly inviting
prejudice 
into our homes
It's time to shut
and lock the door
to hatred bred
in neighborhoods
in schools
in government
in pools of fetid waste
left by an ignorant society
waving flags
brandishing guns
to show the world the reality
of how a society is undone
by letting anger
rule the heart
and soul of a nation

  • drought haiku

    I'm not all that spry
But I can still kick your ass
Get off my dead lawn!