sapphire sky

​

in the distance

flickering softly
warm hope

yawns
bathing this

soft morning
with

birdsong
whispering tales of journeys done
beneath the canopy

of our shared 
sapphire sky

hands

​and though the day be harsh, the night cold,
there is warmth, with your hand to hold

absolution

​heaving phantom weight, traversing life’s paths hardly ever narrow or straight, we scrape and bend stretching our resolve, searching evermore,  scanning the horizon for our souls to absolve …

life

​lilting, songs rise, from the ashes of torn dreams,
scattered on the waters, of this lifes  streams … … …

xenophobia

​in the belly of xenophobia.

when you see them,

passing by your pretty green avenues,

grab your garden rake,

stone the encroaching horde,

they take our jobs,

they marry our women,

put them all

to the sword,

“bloody foreigners”

“wetbacks”

“nigger”

leeching off our taxes,

stinking up the neighborhood,

send them all home,

or better still,

build walls,

seal the borders,

and don’t allow “them” into our fair country,

seek them out in every street,

in every bar

and finish them off

one by one

finish and klaar,

and rest assured,

if not that,

then atleast fuhrer trump and all his cash,

will find you as many  scapegoats you wish to gleefully bash