PEACE TO ALL SENTIENT BEINGS

Summer’s here but the living’s not easy

Humidity abates here and there,

The air’s pretty hazy

Time’s Square still sleazy

Closed public seating there

Get all our food – from who knows where

When I think about it, get scared

Easy times are rare

Life’s very unfair

Especially for animals on factory farms

Want us to think our meat’s here by charm

Nothing’s very clear

If we were to witness animal’s suffering,

Their atmosphere, no space, no air,

Living in their excrement

How many of us could bear

The suffering, does anyone care?

I sit here in my chair waiting

For the rain to come to clean

Dirty city air

While wild horses corralled

by helicopters in the air

Taken to slaughterhouses in Mexico

Denied food or water, hundreds of thousands

By our inhumane society and made into dog food

Marilyn Monroe, a humanist through and through

Exposed this in her last film, the Misfits, in 1961

Look it up online at American Wild Horse Preservation

Trying to deal with so much cruelty

Horrors, animals’ torment

The world’s not what it’s meant to be

Take a deep breath,

Ask who cares?
How do us humans dare?

I DENY IT, I AM NOT A RAPPER

The sky moves beneath my feet; a glistening sun burns my feet

I behold in agony - sadness searching for laughter, I turn to old movies

A checkered sunset rises westbound another demonstration of old things turning new

Tempestuous over tides ruin blandishing broomstick houses

A fire consumes my overgrown garden

Rheumy overtures turn on anticipation mode
I wait while I fight fires or let go

The deep dark vilifications waiting below

The sky moves beneath my feet, planets aligned with fate ignites

Success coming in each new breath, intake and release faith

Tremors take hold, separate skin from bones penetrate my will to procreate

A life out of sight a brand new game emerges from flames

I enter a new dimension, time all aglow with hearts and broken rainbows

Forms beneath my feet towers of past delight but mostly hurts out of sight

Letting blame go becomes easier day to day trying to make it burn to incite more delight

Feign letting go, letting go girl is so hard to do

Hold on to just deserts, I got my last swirl in mad swirl swimming in converts following my concerts

I will get mine tonight

The time’s just right

I will get mine tonight

My just delights

Will be mine at long last

Come on and say it with me:

My just delights

Will be mine at long last

XX’s dad insists on calling me rapper and arguing about it is senseless although I deny it. “I am not a rapper.” I say. My Indian physical therapists insist too. “You are a rapper miss Joy.” I deny it again. “I am not a rapper I declare.” I jam my poetry to music, my baby bluetry.” They say, “OK, OK, we don’t know what to call you we want to come out and support you at your next performance.” Call me you what you want. You can’t define my style and there’s the rub, compare me to anyone.

I feel it in my soul tonight, my poetry and voice reveals your heart. Art a la carte is coming to town via Violet. Blowing in with wind.

Living life is out outta sight, and the glory shall be he said to me, death is coming for everyone. I got the right. I overpaid my dues too just like Rodriguez who lives next door to me.

The sky moves beneath my feet at my command

My just delights will be mine at long last, stay in tune for the jazz band

Aligns with sun signs long past due

I contritely join another band with my last strand of energy

Because I will never let go, my words survive.