je suis charlie

in those glancing shadows
of inky truth and pattern
there would be no ennui,

condemn not capitulate

to the bugle call of atrocity,
it is only anarchy
not religion,
that has to be illustrated

by pencil sharp sword

render and portray
a prophets wisdom abused
to generate and perpetuate
a list of abhorrent terror
activated by those
with misguided sense of being

steady hand describes

that no single act
will be unaccounted

a channel for truth

that should not be
a satirists end

#je suis charlie
#je suis ahmed

sunday whirl

Waiting In Line

frosted lens one secret eye,

it’s time almost gone,

other vibrant blue watery,

she waited to be served

packaged meals enough for

a few days,

tremors with age

cellular collapse,

life’s abrupt stoop to spine,

coat drawn snug,

cold reaches more easily

through mottled paper,

her turn,

trolley a support to feet

more unsteady than an infant,

red leather handbag

leather fashion for forty years

cracked and glazed,

pleased to talk to the assistant

juddering conversation,

sprawled out topics of conversation

no linear trail,

topics of weather,

her husband passed twenty years,

lack of pension,

always broke,

children dispersed seed unconnected

and when she was younger

flew planes in the Pacific

a job few knew of,

no government medal,

yet she offered her life

as she did now to survival,

gnarled arthritic hands

struggled with notes and coins

tomorrow a fragile

premise