View Point

People are deceitful because

truth does not matter;

when they start believing

the lies they tell themselves,

they believe everybody is as gullible

but they fail to recognize that

just like the clear windows they

look out onto the world from,

perceptive people are able

to see through them.

Some people believe that

if they do not...

My daughter has an interesting way of looking at the world. Sometimes from a dark perspective her words are often cloaked in hidden meanings which make you search for truth - but once you see clearly, truth is there.

When I first read this poem, I did not have a clue but once it was broken down to me, I knew her words were true. Bits and pieces of the whole eventually takes a toll.

In today's society, bits and pieces are all that matter because the real objective is simply "booty calls" - w...

People out walking

Aimlessly about

Having very little clout

In the things taking

A toll on their lives

Just hoping

their unemployment

Timely arrives

Unemployment, sky high

Makes you wonder why

In this time of need

Those put in a position

To lead, choose instead

To impede a new direction

Still sending kids off to war

Not even sure what for

Waiting for bad news

To knock on your door

Through it all

And in the end

Remember

When one journey

Ends, another

Begins.

Donâ...

When the Tea Party Movement was picking up momentum last year, I wrote this poem. I was ashamed of how this group reacted and a little angry with the attitudes I saw them display. Though I have not seen them in the news acting out lately, I'm sure the attitude has not changed.

Any group showing as much animosity towards the President of the United States of America should be considered on some levels traitorous. Freedom of speech is one thing, veiled as well as, blatant threats of violence ...

the gift of non-invisibility
By Dawn

I have a friend who

Constantly finds herself

in a position to nurse

the wounds inflicted

by time upon the living soul.

she does not do this

without frailty

and wonders why

the sky cries continually

into her fractured cup.

it is her gift, I say.

as for mine, what good is

the soul of un-read verse?

how does a heart that bleeds

invisible ink bring about healing?

time is my gift, each dawn

a pretty wrapping,

I say, as i scribble my...