Poetry

flickr photo

By

Rick Davis

Meet The President

As Donald groans while smiling

my neck and back feel like a

a knotted rope dangling from steel rafters.

we are captured in your angry child’s game

where you sweep innocents into your

darkened vortex, tossing luminaries aside,

crushing them with expensive shoes.

Since you’ve been in office

the mountains and seas have

worried sullen cries,

and how I like to pretend

that everything we see isn’t real –

but even the dandelions

seemed to have died while you

break apart healthy loving clouds.

humanity’s out of town

while you set the world on fire.

With your forced sickly grin

you’ve transformed early summer

flowing landscapes to

muddied cancerous snow.

You And I

You live in the past with anger

As though you were abducted

By desert wind

Living like expansive pillars of salt

Addicted to the flavor of anxiety.

While warm and comfortable

You act as if your fingers

Are bitten with frost.

I’m happy to live in the now

With my words and books

To discover whatever the sky might bring

Which is like finding diamonds

In cherished texts I study

While you dismiss

And label me a failure

Studying and composing fragrant words

Makes me soft and luxurious

As a peaceful feathered pillow

And in studying and creativity

I smell the sweetest

Vibrant incense

In a late spring breeze.

From Academia Towards Zen

Intellectual bones

rust in rain.

Technical jargon

is dread

that drifts

like fog.

Academic journals

are like tears

I never shed.

But, sliding within,

I find

A revolutionary

symphony

and a

morning dove.

Looking back

I admire

windswept

bridges.

Rick Davis

Rick Davis is a graduate of Northeastern Illinois University, and several graduate programs.  He is married, and has over 700 published poems.