Bloated belly, swollen cheeks,
and a sunken stiff neck on robust torso.
Yet well fitted in flowing apparels;
falling and being raised frequently
from side to side.
Obscene opulence is your delight,
your prestige and your pride;
amassed unlawfully by the pen,
ever wet for your deception
and thievery.
......
I'm mad as hell
I thought I had it in the bag
But this leftie groundswell
Throws in an unexpected snag.
The Media blab my name
Gorges on the outcome
They shout it's me you have to blame
To the beat of their usual drum.
......
AI,
paint me Mona Lisa
without a smile,
no dimples,
without a brush,
and with no paints.
But retain her eyes —
they wink at me with Mediterranean lure.
......
I recall the rural life of the butterfly
Extravagantly —that proud floating mass of wings.
Her wings flutter from sea to coast so eloquently,
Yet silent with the muteness of frightened breeze.
They are banners with buntings of newness — striped,
Spotted, arched, dotted.
Her flamboyant life history, reading it backwards,
Is an exhibition of time and cosseted patience . . . .
The winged one, aged and tried, schleps to the stirs of a narcoleptic pupa,
Hanging on the banisters of a dear larva who’s egged on to
......
So many words, such boring waffle
Posturing peacocks, whispering snakes,
Actions so twisted doubtful if lawful
A bunch of connivers, dithering flakes.
In the House which they rule
They pointed and frowned
Lectures unending as if back at school,
Comments unwelcomed, arguments drowned.
......
Īn an unnoticed season like this
When the youth cherish not their
youthful Glory
Days of which the present is digested
Than that of which the future supposed
to be meditated
The young ladies value not their virginity
Rendering it as if it an infinity
When They are less viewed inferiority
But the things of the modern not enmity
......
What if I can see it, smell it, almost touch it,
That gilded throne where I will proudly sit,
Would people think me mad,
Is my ambition so preposterous and bad.
And why not me, have I not earned this crown,
Someone not worthy of that queenly gown,
Bejeweled and composed for all to see,
My vassals all around, bowing deep to me.
......
I am Indian by birthright,
Simply black when it feels right,
A gender champion through and through,
A Southern Belle from the Bayou.
I cover all the bases from Gay rights to MeToo,
Environmental warriors – I’ll always stand with you.
Black lives truly matter, the Homeless my pet task,
All you need is Me, you don’t even need to ask.
......
At the Cathderal
one dusk,
the general image,
that of receding
glint of the sun's lair
The cupola of the basilica,
the basis of its strength;
the idyll-lined frames
for green verse
......
America, the land of silent classrooms,
where freedom takes aim in open hallways.
They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend,
but when she strides in with stars in her eyes,
her trauma buried beneath her skin,
and blood staining the black leather of her boots,
who does she fight for now?
I raise my hand high, trembling,
......