THE END OF INNOCENCE Listening to Henley’s – Heart of the Matter

Just when you think you’re ‘grown’ – Oh no, honey. That never-ending day? Just beginning

You don’t see the Heart of the Matter 
Until bits of flesh and brain matter come at you
Flying with force spraying red onto the porch  and the
Window glass of the passenger’s side

We draw our curtains –  to watch the trial
As the beast, powered by fear – goes dark
Returning in a suit and tie – explaining itself to
White juries – Some will empathize

 As science explains quickening heartrates
The Battle Royale; An amygdala punching its way to gold
Destroying its prefrontal cortex

Science will explain ‘early trauma’ choking up
What resembles pity for the perp
Whose name we know

Not the victims’ though. They die twice
Getting lost as we scatter
The holy water of good intentions 
Over the mass graves
Of forgotten identities

Forgotten answers
Emotional forensics
Why we fear? Why we hate?
Why we act? Why we don’t?

We fail every day that
We don’t eradicate what kills us
With every bullet
With every dollar rise in
A murderous stock pumped up
In ability to kill and enrich at once

The mass murder of  hope suspiciously
Triggered by happy believers
Those with thoughts and prayers  
Like casket wreaths
Obscuring the many
Hearts that matter         


They’re there every morning – the ones you don’t
Want to be

And before the sun reaches its crest
Something has sprung
Morbid and murderous
From an angry breast

No cure.
We’ve buried the key
In tangled banks
No antidote for certainty
We’re at the interstices
Life Vs. extinction

Trapped and sordid
Beings fighting
Pleasuring ourselves
In tears and blood

They’re  there every morning – the ones you don’t 

Want to be 

And before the sun reaches its crest 

Something has sprung

Morbid and murderous 

From an angry breast 

No cure. 

We’ve buried the key

In tangled banks

No antidote for certainty

We’re here at the interstices 

Of life and extinction 

Trapped and sordid 

Beings fighting.  

Pleasuring ourselves 

In tears and bloodThey’re  there every morning – the ones you don’t 

Want to be 

And before the sun reaches its crest 

Something has sprung

Morbid and murderous 

From an angry breast

No cure. 

We’ve buried the key

In tangled banks

No antidote for certainty

At the interstices 

Life Vs. extinction 

Trapped and sordid 

Beings fighting

Pleasuring ourselves 

In tears and blood


I don’t get the God “CONQUERED” Redeemed                                                                                               There is no light that dazzles me                                                                                                                      If I was made in His image seen                                                                                                                                            Why the question of my right to be   
If His is the sway of circumstance                                                                   			
To cause suffering and cries out loud
I’ll take my gamble with luck and chance
Off my knees my head unbowed

Don’t fashion a heaven amid sin and tears
An afterlife to counter man’s evil
Hatred and destruction – are things to fear
To battle now – in righteous upheaval 

I’ve seen the Road straight to the Gate
Detours aren’t mentioned in His scroll
If He is the master of my fate
Then why the bludgeoning of my soul?


It has occurred to me


I may not live long enough

To love my neighbor


We may all perish if we don’t learn (quickly)

To love one another

And maybe this is the deficiency – like the dinosaurs

That will bring about our extinction


How dare we believe that the ALL in

Liberty & Justice for… includes us

How dare we believe our marching

Will bring about change.

How dare we stomp on the weak

Promise of equality.

How dare we want the privilege to




Be in any space. Any place

How dare we reach into the tall

Grass of corruption to

Throttle the snake of injustice

How dare we show the audacity

Of hope

How dare we?

How dare we not?

GDF ©9/2020


march on wash. monu

I don’t want your                                                                     liberal guilt

Your shocked alarm                                                                   at blood long spilt

I truly don’t want                                                                  your dismay

To matter more                                                                           than a racist display

What I want                                                                                  when you’re alone

Standing among                                                                           those blood and bone

Not a defense of my                                                                    right to BE

But a defense of my right                                                          to take a knee

Scour your own heart                                                                of stereotype

It sieves through all                                                                 the “tolerant” hype

I know when you think                                                                I’m not enough

When my vocabulary tends                                                    to call your bluff

I will know when the                                                           racist BS ends

When in absence I am                                                            just your “friend”

You’ll understand my anger                                                    at a human race

Those who won’t rise                                                             above limited base

 And you’ll feel easy                                                                   in the skin you own

Knowing we are ALL                                                        simply blood and bone

All working toward                                                                     a peace un-shattered

Where there is no offense                                                    that our lives matter

                                                                       G.  Davis-Feldman  ©2019



Not the express train –

The uneventful

Quick-trip to decay


We’re on the Limited;

Confined within limits

On life’s platform

Night watching

Brief recognition vanishing outlines

Illuminated windows, They stare ahead

Silhouetted profiles against flashing light

Glimpsing the gold coins of

The Paradise Express


We remain for the day

As we see ourselves

Age and wisdom

In separate cars

On that same track

Tearing through

A landscape of

Scattered grace



Rainbow Little Torch

I’ve been running for my dream
That started well before
The public even knew
There was someone to adore

I was swimming for my dream
Well before I was born
Who knew the heights that I would reach
The laurels my head adorn

I’ve been throwing at my dream
As you watched and tisked disdain
“She’s so big and unbecoming”
As if my goals were your domain

I’ve been fencing with my dreams
Assault by angulation
Beautiful balestra in hijab
Avoiding fearful imagination

I’ve been balancing all my dreams
On rings and bars and mats
Long before you got off your couch
To write uncharitable scat

Don’t shower me with bloodless praise
“I’m the greatest in the land”
And in ultimate compliment say,
I “compete just like a man.”

Flunking Retire -ment





I have flunked that good, after life

Leaving desk, chalk, and youth sublime

Eight years and a clarion light

Continues to call me to dine


With character filled texts and chairs

I return to a chalkless life

Anxious, faded elegance dares

To drag my dreams to “that good night”


Dreams die hard desire remains

I answer the call to return

Restoring dream’s dust to grain

Desires continue to burn


Teaching is now a brand new flight

Where time and love is now outsourced

Knowledge now comes in bits and bytes

Pass, fail with a little remorse


Virtual reality reigns

As 21st Century fun

As if being “real” needs explain

Over needs for real wisdom


So I am back to spread my grains

Of wisdom and where I found

Meanings to life ‘long side the brain

Which the “Road less traveled” is bound