We were there when the statue crumbled.When humble people stood together and bledfor something better. We remember the Holodomor,the callous calculating way savages act in self interestand realize every nation is susceptible.The world turns on minor moments leaving us in aweat all those things we …
Read MoreIn the Land of Mañana
Feathers serendipitously float as afunction of gravity coupled with time whileboulders predictably drop insingle variable suddenness. All of life isrelative, including time, which is why inthe land of mañana even an hour candrag for days with the fatal flaw offeathers dancing on the timeless breathof …
Read MoreInfinite Sympatico
Infinite are life’s roads,often past fields laid fallow in the sun.The quietness of sparrow. The softness ofcottonwood. How did we get here? Avalanches are born in unsuspecting screams.Gently nudging change untilgravity takes over. Breathing is not living.Fighting does not define heroic.We ignore whispers in wind …
Read MoreDeath is an Illusion
Why does night encase emptiness as if we are one? Why does light beyond the edge of darkness tease at attainability?Who are these men? How did I get here? A heroic cowboy, a principled man ironically misplaced, a slave on the run; what do we …
Read MoreAmericans for a New America
Between truth and all those thingswe’re made to believe lays the destiny tied to ournature. In some it can be listening with a soft heart orcharging into matters partially informed andfully confident. Some are builders whileothers take. There are those who bend in acquiescence and …
Read MoreDerivation of Destiny
No one can say for certain where a waterfall begins or when the consequences of revolution first cascade toward change. Even so, anyone paying attention knows government’s lie to their people. And in their lies we find seldom spoken truths no matter how hidden or …
Read MoreDeath is an Illusion
It’s so hard having escaped the dealer of darkness only to be back in his hold. Death is an illusion, a poem of perfect pretend. The longing to be unafraid. To step one last time beyond the numbness that’s become normal. But even that requires …
Read MorePrelude to a Touch
Through the window of darkness where my soul no longer can be found. This is where you’ll find, my prelude to a touch. R. M. Dolin, 2015
Read MoreMadness of Memories
R.M. Dolin poem from 2015 The madness of May pushes against my soul with the same veracity Santa Annas press the past into a pretext for right now. And in the aftermath of madness, memories we simultaneously treasure and forge to forget, cascade forward in …
Read MoreDecoding Demons
In the absence of clairvoyance we gamble through decisions with as much insight as a miner underground when the lights go out. Only then can we comprehend what it means to be lost in the void. Lost to the numbing weight of life as it …
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