Kids in Cages

There are no words,
Heavenly or Earthly
That can justify
The inhumanity
We are seeing today.

Pulling the children
From Mother’s arms,
From Father’s care,
To put them in cages
Is not following law.

It’s swallowing justice.
It’s wallowing in racism.
It’s the hollowing out
Of values that separate
Democracy from fascism.

No words can cure
These abhorrent acts.
Only action will work
Against the onslaught
Of our core beliefs.

When will this
Be the last straw
To make us all act
To make us all fight
To make us all vote.

Pops 2018


Age is relative, so I’ve heard them say.
Them, you know, the people over 60.
Joining the Them ranks, I say
Age is relevant only if you choose
To let it define you, which is why
I choose to define 60: it’s way
Younger than it was when I was 30.

PopsLX 2018


There is something far beyond
That draws us closer to itself
And further from comfortable.

May you feel today the power of presence,
And experience today the pull of passion
As you walk today the path of peace.

Bring us with you.

Pops 2018


It’s an echo in the dark that no one started.
That panic that wakes you in the middle of the night,
Sitting upright, heart racing, listening for any sound,
Then realizing, it’s the damn middle of the night,
There’s nothing wrong, right now, right here.
But, so much is falling apart that we’re currently holding
Together with bailing wire and duct tape. Sheer will
Keeps the wall up that is crumbling and cracking,
I know that sounds weak and quite psychotic.
That’s me at 1:05 in the morning, as I get up to pee
And check the locks and the deserted driveway
Hoping against hope that everyone is safe in bed,
Climbing back into bed, I’m also hoping to sleep.
“Hope is not a strategy,” some guy said once.
But to hell with that guy, when simple hope is all
You have to keep you going after strategies fail,
Trying to clear my mind, I read another chapter,
Then count sheep, or down from 100 by threes.
I watch the hours pass on the clock and the moon
Passes by the window as morning light subtly comes,
I join the masses these days, anxiously robbed of sleep.
Day comes, ready or not, and tags me to be next
In line at the stop light and at the conference table.
I’m trying hard to stay awake. Really? Now sleep comes?
Pops, 2018

Simply Love

Though there isn’t anything ED6A9FE1-D962-4C08-89D3-996627E3E22A
simple about it anymore,
I choose to simply love
and that brings back
the times when true
love was simple.

Happy Valentine’s Day,

Pops 2018