Amending Our Heads Into The Sand

Never let ideas die,
not with a man

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Pablo Neruda Was No Mad King

How could we
leave you at the shore,
or forget you
or the image of those little boats.

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The Sword That Cuts Down Scepter and State

When among men will come the cost of deeds?
what mad pursuit of silk and gold is this
that we, we happy breed of men have let

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The Gallows

Let the elite country clubs become grave yards.
Come and erect the boards,
and let low the noose, and let known the deeds

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The Thinker

A poem I wrote while thinking about the lost statue, “The Poet at the Gates of Hell,” now known for just it’s center portion, The Thinker.

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