A Quick Collection of Poems

 An American Sonnet

This is my land, this is your land.

It is this land that I love.

Oh how those sapphire mountains sing with their smoke.

Every biome of nature is represented.

From the jungles of Hawaii,

to the Taigas of Alaska.

This is the land where nature gave its most bounty.

Where even the deadly Mojave inspires beauty.

It is a land so beautiful that murder was committed in its aquisition.

This is a land stained with the blood of countless. 

Where those first here were shot and tagged,

where those forced to build it were beaten,

where beauty is destroyed for profit.

These are my hands, these are your hands, red with blood.

Poem

I don’t know how to write poetry,

and I don’t know how to read it really.

I don’t understand the lack of plot,

I really don’t understand why they all just feel a lot

I don’t get form over prose,

I really don’t get not knowing which way the story goes.

I really don’t like having to think

about how every little thing is tied up in kinks.

Why on earth should story be hidden 

when it just about someone bedridden?

Compare everything in black, white, and grey,

and everyone will shout out their heads off “hooray!”

I don’t know how people understand it

I like literature with language clear and direct. 

I mean no disrespect, 

I understand how lyrical poems can be

even when talking about something simple as trees.

The world of poetry is just not at all my thing,

except maybe the raven, that has a really good ring.

The Idiot Sus

Red followed, Red sus.

Call emergency meeting.

Was not imposter.