Drugs are tricksters.
Drugs are imps. They’ll tickle you.
They’ll mess with your head. They’ll stare you down
and win. Drugs are hostile
with a smile. They’ll make you cringe. They’ll make you laugh
with a knife menacing your back. Drugs are punks.
Drugs are demons. They are
brothers with no compassion, sisters with no remorse.
Drugs remember. Drugs forget.
They stink, they lie, they cheat. Drugs
are the epitome of deceit.
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books
There are times people have to stop what they are doing. We have to examine ourselves and our actions. We have to take the blinders off and look at the bottom line, truth. We are not slaves. We are not pre-programmed robots with pre-programmed responses. We are thinking sentient beings ultimately responsible for our own thoughts, our own actions and inactions that result in reality. We are responsible for ourselves as well as the well being of our children. We are responsible for their physical and mental make-up and health. We are responsible for their up-bringing. After all, they are children.
Presently, it is a cruel reality that millions of kids are being labeled with and drugged for imaginary mental disorders by people that have chosen to put and keep their blinders on. Kids are not mentally ill. Let me repeat that. KIDS ARE NOT MENTALLY ILL. They are just kids in need of good parenting, good nutrition, sound goals and purposes, good physical education habits, good fun and constructive activities. They also need sound spiritual principles and spiritual mentors on their path to adulthood. Given those things most children thrive. What they don’t need are drugs.
Drugs are poison. Drugs are irresponsible. Drugs are cruel. Drugs are spiritual murder and a cop out by those that should be held accountable. Us. I know we have created and live in a very mechanistic and self-centered society. That does not justify this barbaric behavior of shrugging off our own responsibilities onto the shoulders of innocent children. They are not responsible. They are not mentally ill. They are being subjected to the punishment of strong psychotropic drugs instead of being helped. They are thrown into the darkness of being alone and betrayed. It’s time to stop and examine the repercussions of what we are doing. It’s time to wake up. This isn’t a dream.
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books™
I’m tired…
tired of breathing
life into things
life into houses
life into cars
life into moving
this to there
and there to here
I’m tired
of going to things
going to work
going to get
going there to here
and there and back
I’m tired
of doing to things
doing the taxes
doing the dishes
doing this to that
and that to this
I’m tired
of way too much
too much noise
too much traffic
too many people
and that horrible
horrible news we make
I’m tired
of my own complaints.
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books™
“Without depth of vocabulary it is difficult to express oneself beyond a superficial scratch of the person you are.” Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books™
I can be
subtle and sensitive
and willing to help. I am
doubtful and fearless
of devils and Hell. I’m pensive
and friendly
unless you irk me. I’m carnivorous
and prone to attack. I can be
slippery as butter. I am aware
as a bat. It all depends
on who you ask.
I am disagreeable
unless I agree. I am formidable
against an enemy.
I blog what I think
and think what I say. I write
poetry and stories
for love and for play.
I twiddle with strings
in a QuickTurtle Band,
I am Bard of my songs
and lord of my hand.
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books™
Today was a disturbance
of the peace. It was broken.
Protesters congregated.
Anarchists raised their fists.
The police showed up
with riot gear and teargas
in my head. Some days are like that.
So much unrest within the boundaries
of our lives. I want to scream
at the nonsense. There is too much
shoving and foul language. It is rude.
Just miserable as the weather.
Irritable as jalapeño bowels.
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books™
There is silence and there is silence
of absence. Silence that is silent
has no weight. It is brother or sister
to peace. It is the silence
of a rose or an ocean of poppies.
It is the substance of a dream
without bounds. It is infinite
trust. It is true
love for another… in a silence of absence
I would be wanting and scared.
I would be empty. I would be an echo
or a shadow in which to roam. In a silence
of absence I’d be
alone.
In an ebon
glacial sea
a beautiful jellyfish
quivers and undulates
in a ritual dance, billows
white veils
and intimate lace,
propels
her red desire
up into the pale green fire
of icy light… flutters
and shakes, trembles
to embrace her new found mate
for that one
final descent
into the deep…
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books™
If I were the sky
I’d reach into the furthest
reaches of self. I’d find my center
from which to reach out.
I’d expand and contract, bend
and refract
all the colors of the rainbow.
I’d be the greatest
sculptor of light. I’d be god’s painter
and spread deep yellows
like butter on dusk, I’d coax mellow mauves
to spruce up dawn. 
You’d snap my photo
and chase my storms. At night I would
cradle the moon
and spoon planet mars… I’d fling bright stars
into swirls and arcs. I’d always be high.
I’d never come down.
I’d never need space to keep me around.
If I were the sky I’d know my worth
If I were the sky I’d make Heaven on Earth.
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books™