The (God-Honest) State of My Nation

Oct10

Dah-dah dum
Dah-dah dum
Dah-dah dum

Dah-dah dee
Dah-dah dee
Dah-dah dee

Dah-dah did
Dah-dah did
Dah-dah did

Make it plain
Distraction
has no value

Dah-dah do
Dah-dah do
Dah-dah do

I have less
than I want
And more
than I can keep

Dah-dah dum
Dah-dee
Dah-dah dee
Dah-did
Dah-dah did
Dah-dah do
Dah-dah do
Dah-dah do
Dah-dah do
………

After the End, We Begin

Sep27

Quiet Street, Anywhere
On a soft brown morning she will never
find again
With purposeful gesture lost in
the rhythmic flight of her soul

A closed red door listens to
and learns from

The ballad in this
Woman’s heart

There is nothing more than this
Though we may wait
There is nothing more than this
Though we may yearn
There is nothing more than this
There is nothing more than this
There is nothing more than this
Though we may wake

Breathe
Eat
and sleep again

We will begin to understand that
God has reason for everything
Under the suns

As beautiful as we are
Form and structure
Precision and grace
Strength and spirit
Hands folded
Body supple
Head bowed

And the flow that ebbs
In our rise

Meanwhile, in another part of me…

Jun30

Meanwhile, in another part of me

There are times when the Philistine rises within
Just for guilty pleasures per se
And a chance to speak the gospel of charade –
Are we make-believers every one –?
I cannot tell a lie
Sometimes the truth gets old
A dried up leaf
And sometimes it just hurts like hell

I Was Thinking

Jun30

I Was Thinking

At break point
Will I split wide open into two fractured selves

or will I implode masterfully
Gracefully
Sucking the energy of all passerby souls
into my ever–spinning ear–splitting
Gluttonous void

I see extinction living here like chronic dust
Three–dimensional matter piling their sins
into a one–dimensional room – I can only
bring question

For nothing is certain
but death

under a flaming red sun
or a dry silver–white moon

Broken Pieces Collected

Jun9

Last night

I slipped through my ghost

and my broken song echoed

from the other side

The (smallest) pieces of a heart

If this was written for you

you must catch the tiny pauses

and never mind the slow breaks

It is nothing and everything

when you rub your little finger

back and forth across my callus

like ritual

I marvel at this

and the broken song

you whispered in your sleep

©dorhora.

Snap.

May6

Snap. The infinite power we have over ourselves is often overlooked in the quest to control and change other people and situations. Snap. There is nothing more difficult in this world than placing mind over matter. Snap. Last night, I woke up for the first time. Today, I am shrugging off the harnesses and breaking protocol with the status quo. Snap. Just as I eat, drink and take shelter, I will write. A desire that must be satisfied with every waking moment is a need. Snap. So fulfill it, I will. And in doing so, I will reclaim the power to make decisions that benefit my welfare and artistry. I will not feel guilty for placing self above others. I will not apologize for attitudes, thoughts and behavior that may clash with the road most taken. I will understand my dominion over things that matter little and those that matter most. I will know that it is okay to walk away from my commitments, job, and relationships if they become barriers to my happiness and well-being. It is not just enough to live anymore, but it is everything to live as fully well and satisfied as possible. Snap. And there is nothing wrong, but everything right, in this. Snap. This is not to say that every action will or should be excused in terms of gratifying the self. There is a level of selfishness that will surface, and there will be casualties. Accusations will be thrown, and eyebrows will raise. But there is no getting around such socially engineered reactions, so why bother curbing wellness to avoid them. Snap. I have to remember that I am central here, not special, just the author of the rest of my life. It can be an unspectacular and ordinary role but a most important one. I will not take it lightly. And I will not allow anyone else to control the reigns. What I make of my life will be my glory to savor or my fault to digest. Snap. But I will pen each moment as best I know how. I will be both the poet quiet and unknown and the one unrestrained in living color. The voice unafraid of social constructs and dissension; I will acknowledge and respect both the anarchist and pacifist for both run rampant through my veins. I will be strong yet undefinable. There is too much responsibility and pressure in definition and frameworks. The latter two need a certain mold that I have never fit. I enjoy freedom too much and the power to decide my status from moment to moment. Snap. My future is ready and waiting for me as I write this piece. I do not know if I will return to this space again. But if I do, it will be with a different voice, ever-changing. Snap. A new purpose. Snap. New words overwriting past lives with power, pain and glory in every stroke of the pen. So, here I am. Snap.

A cappella mine

Apr23

Have you seen my pretty bird wings
Heard my pretty bird song from
pretty bird lips
My little ditty has its own land
rivers
and countrymen
Fathers
as beautiful as their sons
Mothers
as strong as their daughters
Can you hear me
now
Calling ancestors from the dust
bringing drums back to life
and counting each day
prettier than
the last

Have you seen my pretty bird wings
Heard my pretty bird song from
pretty bird lips

It is for you
you
you
And you

too