Penned Resistance is poetic ink urging us to thInk about what is happening to us, to the U.S., to the world, and all that whirls around and inside us. To thInk as our true selves is to resist the forces that seek to occupy or control our thoughts . . . as an individual, a citizen, a man, a woman, a human, a Yeti.
Penned ink to thInk is a link to our primordial freedom ... our freedom to be who we truly are. Let it ring.
Federal Agents find what they’re reaching for
from the hands of the helpless
who reach for levers of release
while
living in the captivity of a limited life
they choose
H2O or THC
then
scientists reach their foregone conclusion in collusion
with
a
state, of mind, that encloses these souls, behind windowless rooms
to
zoom
into
the news
that
Pot is Addictive!
What a circus, in the land of the free, the once free,
a land, a people, misnamed by a misguided seaman who rightly
knew the earth went a round
then wrongly sailed off the edge of
what goes around comes around
into whatever’s around can be taken and bound
War horror, that all mothers abhor
to whore after war is to be
a creature not of four feet
but of fleets, armies on two feet
air forced out of young lungs
to songs sung in forced unison
I feel like the suburban coyote
who runs across four lanes of road kill to
run into walls made into blocks that
protect human tracts and lead into cul-de-sacs
of lives gerrymandered by politicians
to suit their ties
to the petro-pharmo-medical-industrial bosses
From far far away there came a wave
more precise to say five waves
remarkably the same
in time frame
They came from the center of our galaxy
from a "space object"
subjected to our space logic
digested for over two years by our scientists
then regurgitated to us
as an after burp
nicknaming
this mysterious source, not as a main course
but
"burper"