Food for Thought-So That We Might Simply Pray


With baited breath we wait,
For words to determine,
A nation’s moral fate,
The choice is ours,
How to live,
To walk a road,
Embracing power,
And convince ourselves,
To not be devoured,
By the lies of control,
Or hating our neighbors,
Which destroys our souls,
Not this time we say,
These tortured manipulations,
In a season of tried souls,
Bring knees to the Earth cold,
So we might simply pray.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-The Arrival of Winter Like Conditions

I bid you welcome, cold,
your emanations descend again.
Are you here to remind me
winter has freed its holding pen?
I will not allow your blowing misery,
To claim this day as a victory,
Creep around the trees and corners,
Show yourself as an itinerant mourner,
What you are I see,
Not a reflection of what is to be,
I hear the warning of your arrival,
Yet today we wait not upon death,
For tonight is about survival,
Until the morrow’s first breath.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-I Rage Against the Halloween Machine



The fear system is far from broken,
the costume markets are always open,
you’re going to die says the man on TV,
take these drugs, don’t wait and see,
a virus from Africa stalks our streets,
men in space suits scare ghosts in sheets,
arterial plaque and hemorrhagic fever,
between clips of a drunken Justin Bieber,
this is the Halloween you asked for,
standing at our front doors,
courtesy of the good people,
the ones you’d never suspect,
the military, industrial, pharmaceutical,
and costume complex.

-Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-King of the Dishwashers

I am the king of the dishwashers,
Czar of the pots and pans,
Prince of the rotten rubber stopper,
And half blind with one hand,
Cleaning chicken in the sink,
While lukewarm water,
Erases the natural stink,
Clearly it needs to be hotter,
Scalding I have to come to think,
If the ketchup on plate,
Will ever disintegrate,
The vile mustard must be exposed,
A conspiracy that has to go,
The way of old Count von Spaghetti,
Whom I ordered chopped,
Into pieces of organic confetti,
And cheese that is blue,
By my dog Rubetti.

–Richard Bryant