I'm sitting pretty biding my time
Staying real quiet towing the line,
For President Biden, that lovely old man
Playing the game as only I can.
Why make loud waves, somehow act up,
When everything soon will fall in my lap,
Quiet will do it, with a giggle or two,
Hold my cards close and see this thing through.
......
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,
......
Time changes with life and life changes with time.
October grows too old,
Hobbling backwards
With the burden of years,
On the sinuous alcove of time,
Tenebrous and feathery,
Her hidden lamps blinking furiously
At the silhouettes of wasted days.
The wasted leaves of autumn
Break forth and dance down
......
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
......
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,
......