I wore blue to vote blue.
Right down to my shoes.
I stood in a line. It was the first time voting at this location when I’ve had to wait. I exchanged eye smiles with others in line. We talked of hope. We are daring to hope.
Peace, and hope, people!
For the first time since November 2016, I feel like we might overcome Trump’s toxicity.
Vote Blue!
Not an Option
By Leslie Noyes
Failure, under the spotlight, turned down a wrong road, dined at the bad trough, lessons learned.
Heartache, walked on the tightrope, fell into an abyss on the highway to hell. Seeking penance forevermore.
Trust, sought, but not earned, squandered in bushels, by deeds too heinous to tell. Forgiveness sought.
Grace, offered in buckets, washed in the blood of the everlasting lamb. Earnest prayers offered with hands raised in praise.
A matter of time
Everything boils down to this
All things fall away
Raging storm, dark clouds,
Nothing will last forever
Light permeates all
Dreamers, hold on,
We promise to fight for you
Looking for that light
Good intentions pave
That crazy highway to hell;
Buckle up, baby.
Embracing the blame
A badge worth acknowledgement
Bloody medal earned.
Sarcasm and hope
Those strangest of bedfellows
On bright shield inscribed
I call this one, “A Nice Piece of Tail”. 
i sing
every hour
under my breath,
at the top of my lungs.
i think
every second
about injustice
and the power of love.
i cry
once a day
for lives lost
in needless ways.
an aura
of futility
permeates all,
threatens despair.
yet, i sing
because music
lightens my heart;
takes away the hurt.
The day they murdered Mercy we all stood still around
Hands inside our pockets; eyes firmly on the ground
Unwilling to witness the death of our dear friend,
Yet complicit were we in assuring her end.
Fierce sun beat down, unabridged, unabated
Sweat’s stench laced with fear filled the street, permeated
No respite in shade on summer’s cloudless day
Mercy lost a step, slumped into a sway.
Sharpened spears in their grasps, old men prodded apace
Laughing and pawing as she fell upon her face
Roughened hands yanked bleeding Mercy sharply to her feet
Spun her in a circle, stomping to a beat.
The scene looked so familiar as we’d lost Hope two days past,
And Mercy’s fate was sealed when she stood up at the last
Calling foul upon accusers, judge, and jury, in the wrong
But the damage was done and Hope was dead before that day was done.
Now most pray that Mercy’s end will come without a hitch
That we can mourn in silence; no one will raise a fist
Surely if we remain inert the murderers will soon tire
Of dragging innocents to their deaths upon a raging pyre.
The grisly deed is drawing near, the wood begins to smolder
Perhaps we ought to save her, perhaps we should be bolder.
But we bargained for this merciless life when we let Charity die
Upon the bloody campaign trail stoked by wicked lies.
hang your prayers on banners,
pennants flying in the sun
waving over fallow fields,
snapping in the winter dawn.
best to see them flapping,
madly dancing on the breeze
than dragging limply, wasted
unmarshalled, and ungrieved.
in the soul of man
there exists a chasm
deeper than it is wide,
and it is very wide indeed
from one’s lofty northern perch
the southern side cannot be viewed
stones cast in vertically disappear,
become ghosts of old yearnings
intense feelings grown cold
free falling for eternity
to fathomless depths
in the soul of man
