
Eternity is
a slippery slope upon
which to place one’s hope.
Filed under POETRY

By David Glenn Cox Every time you think it can’t get any worse, it gets worse. Every time you think Trump can’t become more despicable or brazen. He …
Trump Murders Good
Filed under Uncategorized

Americans are overfed
on soft food,
pre-digested,
pre-prepared,
pre-packaged
and all but dead.
“Give me something to chew,”
they say.
Even a lie will do.
Americans have learned to
eat lies for breakfast;
for lunch and dinner, too.
They brag about feasts
empty of nutrition that builds life,
but full of calories bringing strife.
Offering such empty scenes
of family life left sorrowing,
of neighborhood crime fallowing
entire blocks within every hamlet.
Sitcoms no longer hold their attention.
“Give me something to chew on!
they demand incessantly.
A I might be their only salvation.
They have lost the patience
for solemn contemplation.
They no longer know how
to take slower bites,
to savor a meal surrounded by family;
nor keep a schedule.
They buy modern on-the-go insanity,
even while waiting forever it seems
to order a vente-decafe-no cream.
Their jealousy at losing
what others have not
now knows no boundaries
as they gobble up
the power that such losers corrupt.
They no longer need to chew at all.
They buy all the crap, having nothing at all.
Time to go green. Time to come clean.
Of course, we shall as soon as our screams
fade away with the plea,
“Give me something to chew on”
that is real, that is true.
Is that too much to ask of you?
Over-processed replies
may be all we can get
from those pre-packaged politicians whose lies
overcome the silence of over-processed cowards
too scared to openly repent.
Chew slowly as lies melt in your mouth.
Lies feed nothing; cannot keep you alive.
Lies are killing a land of freedom once prized.

I have been carried over mountains
dredged in gold
by sunlight’s curve of light
as dawn unfolds
and opens her arms,
and gently releases her hold
on earth’s many charms.
The wonders of my world shift
within my sights
in bits and pieces set adrift
until I string them together like jewels
to hang around my neck
and light the darkest days ahead.
Indeed, dawn’s delights
can lighten even the darkest nights
in waking dreams sensing the coming light.
Dawn works her tentative way
across this bleak space every day.
Dawn awakens an eagerness to find my place
among other beings also lit from within.
Together, we can light the entire world.
It is dawn. We have dawned.
It is time to begin.
Filed under POETRY

My guess is as good as yours, you know.
We can argue and remonstrate as we go.
Stardust falls too easily upon the earth
where we abide, and constantly seek rebirth.
Imagination takes us within its thrall.
Reality may not be real; not real at all.
We watch stories unfold on stage and screen
Impossible to believe what our eyes have seen.
For a moment all that exists is a creative idea,
a fantasy which draws us all near,
connects us without fear.
It coats us in fairy dust,
and so, we trust.
These moments of suspended reality
remind us of our tightly held duality.
Our starry-eyed souls try to hide inside
a body which runs open and wide,
which seeks to break free
and reach for the stars seen in dark skies.
All we really need to do is look inside.
That is where reality truly resides.
Filed under POETRY

The wind has ceased clearing away
old lies and false games in play.
New lies form and cling to every surface
and truth is once again surfeit.
Snow may provide pristine cover
until snow melts and we discover
one lie lies atop another.
Spring seems too far away
and each day we must wait seems unsafe.
I welcome any blowing wind that rages,
if it uncovers the millions of pages
hidden behind bureaucratic stages.
Sunlight always follows storms
which speed across a continent’s norms
and freshens the air we all breathe,
able to fill lungs eager to breathe free.
A cold wind is as good as warm.
Each wind has its own charm.
Both can clear the air and remove
what would cause us harm.
No wind today to grace
what feels a very unsafe space.
So, I blow words across a page.
A warning wind blowing hard and truly
meant to make us all a bit unruly.
No place for Kings, I remind you.
We gather together, we too few.
Let the winds blow and harden our stance
to face and uncover lies which advance
the tyranny of greedy overlords
who cannot stand up to truthful words.
Spring is coming, or so, I have heard told.
Until it comes, blow winds! Blow!
No matter how cold.

A fierce wind blows hard and fast
across the tundra’s frozen mass
sliding down south furious and fast
like a feisty child on a slickened slide,
adult control no longer about,
tearing across a playground
with hearty shouts of glee –
I’m free! I’m free! I’m free!
It is a wondrous sight to see
bending, dancing trees in sway
holding tight squirrels’ nests
close to trees’ heaving chests.
The air is alive in ways we seldom see.
reminding us we, too, can be free.
We can cross the frozen, grieving miles
and dance again wreathed in smiles.
We can find a quickened pace
as wind lifts our feet into space
we once thought too weak to bear our weight.
Mother Nature reminds us of our place
in an ever-changing world whose race
to bring us safely round the sun,
with laughter, joy and fun
brings treasured moments of grace.
North wind reminds what we already know –
we….must…. just….let……….. go!
Filed under POETRY

I envy those still able to place words on a page.
I hesitate at what I might say to display my rage.
Silence is its own subtle, harmful, deadening cage.
I refuse to become like you – a killer
of all that is good, all that is free, all that is true.
I refuse to become like you – a silent witness
of all that is evil, all who are held in bondage,
all of the lies which rely upon you.
I refuse to become like you – a sycophant
in silent praise of racist, sexist, xenophobic chant
by tiny minds, fattened by greed, with tiny hands
grasping for the sacred trust, and pedophilic lust
most hide from civil and moral view.
I refuse to become you – a lost boy
in Never-Never Land, fearful and confused,
afraid to grow up, preferring to fly high
above those you believe inferior
so that you can feel superior.
I know who you are; and so, do you.
I refuse to become you; and so, extend a hand
to help you settle down upon a branch of freedom.
It is weakened; it is true.
But still strong enough
with love enough
to hold us…together.
MORNING COMES
Tomorrow will turn into today; 2025 to 2026. We will still resist negativity and embrace one another as we seek to create a more American America, fully embracing, perhaps for the first time, our Constitution and Bill of Rights. It will be more difficult than ever. But, I am hopeful it can be done because of my faith in each of you.
I am thankful to all who read by poetry, political essays and family stories. You cover the globe. Your hands reach across oceans. Your hearts embrace human kindness. Your minds seek truth. Your souls seek justice. You give me the blessing of your attention to address the problems we face. Somehow, united across the globe, such intention to do good and treat one another with mutual respect, will work miracles. We shall overcome the darkness as we enlighten each other’s lives. You enlighten mine. I thank you, dear readers. Happy New Year! A new morning comes.
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Tagged as faith, gratitude, happy new year, hope, resistance movement