theidealransom.com

It has been almost one year since my last post here. Since then I have gone on to create my own website which better suits my needs, and is more attractive to look at. Please join me there or on Substack. Peace out Google.

https://www.theidealransom.com

September is a Hard Month

3. Two fighter jets flew overhead as a pink-white cloud rose to greet them. Too late, it was time to go, evacuate, no more to do but escape. I walk in a surreal haze across Brooklyn Bridge choking on my survivor’s guilt already welling on selfish phlegm coughed up with pieces of them, those sacrificed in that hour Tower after Tower... 4. My memory of that day is packed into an office-like room... On fire in a state of constant collapse. Contents float out of shattered windows upon smoke, and fume up into a deep blue September sky... that space in my mind is always the 11th day of the 9th month of 2001 8:46am or 3:43pm on a day that never ends, that always ends... the same way falling slow motion silent.

Inland - For Ukraine

Inland In land once under wave A desert road is paved Packed by heat of sun And people on the run From vice and tyranny To find a symphony Where peace in rows and rows steadily thrives and grows Once a vast promised land Of people hand in hand How has the story changed A declaration rearranged Flacons of sweet perfumes Gather dust in empty rooms Deep sorrow swells my heart As fell oaths keep us apart Lust for power over love Kills every single dove So, we must stand and fight To save what we know is right

Go With Love

Young one take a look. What do you see? A world rich with gifts or misery? Walking through woods now, roots cross your way. Canopy of green. Bough branches sway. Sun may be shining. Clouds bring the rain. Stay on the good path through ease or strain. Ride to the city. Towers are tall. Many temptations before you fall. Keep your heart open. All you can do. Make the good choices. Have faith in you. May your roads be long. Troubles be few. With havens plenty silver as dew. Should you cross oceans or steeply climb, may what you’re seeking be there to find. Hold on to purity. Don’t fret the stain. There will be clarity despite the pain. Where we are going, what we all do, is learn to give love. Receive love too. Love is not easy. Love’s sometimes cruel. But love is the answer. The golden rule. So go with intention. Soar like the dove. Go with conviction. And Go With Love.

May Calm Prevail

Clear and cold

Sun warms the World

Yet men old and gray

Rattle their swords...

Measuring hoards

So thusly Peace

Runs away

Happy Birthday, Sis!

Happy New Year.

So sorry for the long silence. This platform is no longer writer friendly. I am in the process of transitioning to word press.com here is why:

I can't make a paragraph or a space without putting a photo. Any formatting from a cut and paste is lost.

January 18, 2022 Someday, it’ll all be different but will I be around? The pessimism of my fathers is a hard thing to live down. But in your blue eyes, under these blue skies is the only peace I’ve found. Someday, it’ll all be different. Then we’ll go to town. Someday we’ll have a big house with a couple of cats and a dog. A garden for a front yard, in the backyard we’ll keep hogs. We’ll sing songs at the fire side by Bob Dylan and Jackson Browne. Someday it’ll all be different an’ we’ll go out on the town. Someday there’ll be no bigots. No racism, no more war! Someday we’ll have a plenty that’s better worth living for. The lion and lamb will both shake hands with silence the only sound. Some day everything will be different. Then we’ll go to town. Someday, the stars will line up and the moon will light the way. When waters of the oceans along the shoreline stay. Then honey bees, and butterflies come back to save the day. An’ everything will be different That’s all I have to say.

But I still love you all. Thanks for checking in on me. Talk soon.

Understanding

Clear mountain stream

under a warm sun

I settle into a rocky bed

as cold water, like language flows,

from crown to toes

Rinsing impurity and

teaching me to breathe.

Then deeper in I float

with strong currents.

There words move me

in a kind of kinesis to realize

I’ve the understanding

of a one-year-old

just learning to say

Mama and Papa