Whispering... Not to Scream

Speaking softly
so as not to give away 
the terror and turmoil
clutching at throat and chest.

Chaos and catastrophe abound.
This reign of terror brought to you,
(unwittingly?)
by American taxpayers.
Done in their name.

Murder by government.
Terror inspired by vitriol.
Perpetrated by hate-bros.
Uncontrolled mayhem.

“that’s fine dude, I’m not mad.” 
Her final words.
Then, three shots to the head.
The killer ended with "Fucking bitch."

Then the government lies began.
The typical approach to their crimes by this evil regime.
Gaslighting the world.
The world is not fooled.

 Video evidence to the contrary
belies their cover up.
ICE agent Jonathan Ross is in hiding 
because his guilt is evident.

A murderer is given sanctuary.
The government won't allow local investigations.
The world saw that execution recorded in multiple videos.
The killer's own camera captured the crime.

An innocent woman is dead.
She committed no crime,
no matter what the Liar in Chief said.
No charge, no trial, just a death sentence.

For Renee Nicole Good - 
End the  neo-Nazi takeover of the USA.

©Ellen Pepper 2026
image: The Independent

SUMMON ME

 

"Summon me,"
He said seductively to the grieving widow.
Summon me when your need
begins to overwhelm.

Summon me and 
we'll dance the light fandango.
Summon me;
I'll wear the mien of your man.

Summon me 
to ride in my carriage.
Summon me
to touch you there
and there.

Summon me
to forget your woes.
Summon me
to hear your song.

Summon me
when no one holds you.
Summon me
to find your way.

Here I'll stay,
though you suspect me.
Here I'll stay
though you think me a ghost.

Take me 
into your heart.
I'll never leave you.
Fear me not, I beg you.

Who am I?
Look to your animus,
No need to wonder.
my name is ...
Morpheus.


©Ellen Pepper 2026

image: freepik

Retirement Guy

 

On his final day of paid employment, 
Wilfred P. Bucklethorpe donned his blue suit,
plaid tie, 
and shiny black loafers; 
took the #42 Islington bus downtown
to his corporate office building
and patiently greeted his co-workers
 who wanted to make a fuss.

On the bus ride, 
he'd gazed out the window 
at scenes he wouldn't be seeing again.
He felt an odd ache in his chest
almost like nostalgia.

He daydreamed about his imminent freedom,
years of leisure stretching before him.
He had no hobbies,
no wife,
no kids,
not even a dog.

At the office, he did no work,
he spoke to colleagues; made plans to meet up -
knowing full well that he'd never see any of them again,
because that's just the way things go.
Anyway, golfing had never appealed to him.

There was a party at the end of the day.
False bonhomie and drunkenness ensued.
A gift of miniature golden handcuffs was given -
to be worn on a lapel.
A plaque mentioned years of service.

He left early and took the bus home.
Everyone was relieved to see him go.
He was no longer relevant.
He wouldn't be missed by anyone
other than the caretaker, 
to whom he'd been kind.

At 8 in the morning 
of his first day without a job...
He crawled out of bed, aching.
The day stretched before him 
with no tasks to be done.

He thought of the lonely years ahead.
Considered taking up a hobby -
leaning to play a harpsichord,
perhaps...or a language.
Travel didn't really pique his interest.

He had an epiphany around lunchtime:
he had no interests outside of work.
He had time on his hands.
Too much time.
And he was forlorn...
Maybe he should get a cat.

The pain in his chest 
was becoming worrisome.
Should he see a doctor?
It seemed to be too much trouble.
Perhaps, he should just rest in bed?

At 4pm, Wilfred P. Bucklethorpe
dressed in sweatpants and trainers
and headed off to get food.
It was drizzling and chilly,
not summer weather at all.

As he approached a brightly lit supermarket,
his aching chest started throbbing -
the strangest sensation.
He glanced down at his shoes
and
as his head tipped forward,
the rest of his body followed suit and
the world before his eyes
faded to black.

Wilfred P. Bucklethorpe lay dead on the cold, wet pavement.
Alone.
He had nothing left to do.
He'd made no plans for the future.
He'd never followed his dreams.

Some folks are late bloomers.
 Some are seeds that never sprouted.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

image: dreamstime.com

RABID DOG

 

Time to invoke the 25th A.

That dog is rabid.
The forepaw wound is ground zero.
He's restless.
He needs space.
His walk is wincing.
He's mostly lethargic.

And now he's foaming at the mouth.
He's incontinent.
His incessant bark is raspy.
Pupils dilated.
His jaw is awkward.

His aggression is feverish.
He's attacking without provocation.
He's biting at the air.
He fears water.

He hasn’t had his rabies vaccine
because he’s anti-vax.
Oh, dear what can we do now.
The vet says he’s fine,
but the vet has been paid to lie,
says he’s the healthiest dog ever.


The least we can ethically do 
for that rabid dog and his pack
is euthanize with 25 A.
The world will breathe easier
when they're dead and buried.

 
©Ellen Pepper 2026

Image: dogexpress.in

Chair of Reckoning

Seated on the Chair of Reckoning,
high above the valley,
misty mountains of crime surround.
Situational gravity tots up the tally.

The judging, the weighing, the judicial outcome
all in the balance.
The malfeasance against humanity
and the very planet.

Will there be impartiality?
Maybe.
Will there be compassion?
It depends on the transgression's extent.

The judge is subject to judgment.
Being human- also complicit.
Culpable, if the punishment is unjust.
Who decides? Who is without sin?

The winds at the peak clear the mind.
The chaos is far removed.
The air pierces the mind and breath.
The decision is due.

Sagacity, discernment, and perspicacity 
come to the fore,
and all and sundry are in the dock,
Terror will strike at the core.

Seated on the Chair of Reckoning,
the time has come to weigh the misdeed,
Punishment decided
and imposed with due speed.

It is done.
Penalties imposed.
The Chair of Reckoning
now abandoned for the nonce.


©Ellen Pepper 2026

image credit: freepik

What triggered the Shift?

Epictitus once said,
"We suffer not from events themselves,
but from our judgments about them." 

I've been dreaming lately of the Time Before:
The Time of Chaos and Dismay.

The Beast was ruling
and thieving
and raping
and cruelling.
Let loose from moral and ethical standards,
breaking all the rules.
Corruption of the highest order.

What I'm getting at is that 
I was remembering that time, 
and after, when the Shift took place.
What triggered it?

From the depths of despair to the uplift of spirit.
Like going outside in summer after a hard winter.
A sea change. A tsunami of hope and goodwill.
Dissipation of random hate.
The very air suddenly seemed more oxygenated.

What triggered it?

The Collective became restive. 
Too much revved up vitriol tired mortals.
Misanthropy suddenly seen as foolish.
Resentment became resignation.
The desire for harmony arose after turmoil.

What triggered it?

"Things change." said the Buddha.
"Neptune and Saturn were conjunct at 0 Aries."said the Astrologer.
“All great changes are preceded by chaos.” said Deepak Chopra.

Plus les choses changent, moins elles semblent identiques.
(The more things change, the less they seem to be the same.)

Upon waking after these dreams, my first words are always, "What triggered it?"
I'm just curious. I'm not a spy from the past trying to change the future. Honest.

 It happened. I just want to know how.

 

©Ellen Pepper 2026
image: https://japaneseclass.jp/img/The_Best_of_Dreams

The eagle has lost its soul.

 

The eagle has lost its soul.
Dropping bombs.
Killing innocents.
Abducting a leader and his wife,
no matter their crimes.

Invasion commenced in the wee hours.
Civilians peacefully lying abed, 
unsuspecting the imminent invasion
of a hostile force killing them dead.

More mayhem instituted by
a smugly insanely tempestuous toddler in chief.
Possibly illegally in power.
A conman, grifter, liar and thief.

War crime. 
Hailed by the Chief.
Breaking of covenants
and causing fear and grief.

And what's it meant to cover up?
Child rape, corruption, ill health, greed.
The current destruction of the USA.
The ongoing end to democracy.

How long, America?
How long before you rise up
and take him down?
The world is watching.

Countries on tenterhooks.
Fearful of his next act of utter insanity.
Who has the intestinal fortitude
to stop this vile creature?

Anyone?

©Ellen Pepper 2026
image: https://www.nbcnews

LIMBO

 

It's not yet then
and not still before...

Here we are 
on the precipice of another time
to be known as a "year",
but only in our minds.

The Universe abides.

Some will make merry.
Some will ruminate.
Some will sit quietly,
waiting for time to bate.

Nothing is true yet,
but what's been seen in passing.
Leave the past aside;
for the new year, be keen.

There's no need for artificial joy
and bonhomie;
No fireworks.
No champagne.
No raucous parties.
No agony upon awakening
in the newer year.

Slide gently into the crossing.
It's really just another day.
There's no way to know
what's in store - 
just like yesterday
and the day before.

Practice stillness.
Watch and learn.
Accept not knowing.
No need to yearn.

Let it be.


©Ellen Pepper 2025

image credit: discover.hubpages.com

Observation

Someone is watching you,
trawling through social media,
checking for messages -
here there and everywhere.

They don't think they care, but
their actions belie that.
Do you feel their eyes 
questioning your motions?

They follow you at night.
They know your movements.
They keep an eye out
at all times.

It's someone you used to know.
Someone long gone.
Someone who just realized
that you've departed.

It's not stalking as you know it.
It's subtle with no intention of harm.
It's just curiosity - 
how did you get away so silently? 

Like a ninja, 
 master of stealth,
making no sound,
leaving no echo -
You slayed a player,
and freed your self.

And now, they search for you.
You've become invisible.
They fear open contact because
they're knowingly in the wrong.

No need to run.
No need to hide.
They'll never find you.
Inhale the heady air of liberation.


©Ellen Pepper 2025
Image: cornwallseawaynews.com

Fog

 

Black, bare branches against the infinite wall of fog.
Obscuration is at hand. 
In the distance, a pale nothingness.
On the windows, drops of condensation.

The mind absorbs the vacuum of sound.
Vague movements unsettle the senses.
Kittens crouch in trepidation.
A lone dog barks in the distance, his tone muted.

Wraiths of lovers past.
advance silently on unseen feet;
their mouths forming words, yet soundlessly.
Then, they are again enveloped
Only shards of memories remain.

Surely, Neptune is nascent -
illusion is at hand.
Dreams spin a glamour;
Self-delusion is fanned.

And now the heavy rains begin.
The world is washed clean.
The floodwaters of feeling are arising.
No more fog is seen.



©Ellen Pepper 2025
Image: freepik.com

A Change Will Come

 

Too many broken people
marching grim-faced
in lockstep
"gotta get this
gotta be there
gotta have some
gotta take care."

Meanwhile...
The money has dried up for the Gotta Haves.
And the Already Have Too Muchs get more and more.

Everything is being broken:
the economy,
world peace,
the White House itself,
trust in institutions,
faith that others are decent people.

Crazy, angry, hate-filled  people rule the US.
Excess cruelty is the point of their existence.
Children go hungry
while the rich grow fat with excess.

How much longer can this go on before
the pendulum begins to swing back to a saner time?
How many more will die while waiting?
It will take years to rebuild after this chaos.

One thing is certain,
every time fascists come to power
they ruin what was once stable.
They run rampant over sensibilities
and crush the best spirits into dust.

In the end, they hang naked and gutted
in public view 
to serve as  a lesson 
that this insanity must never 
 survive and thrive again.

In the end, Spring will come.
Optimism will rise.
Sanity and goodwill will flourish.
Harken to the birds and flowers, 
harbingers of hope.


©Ellen Pepper 2025

Image: dreamstime.com

Nemesis, Goddess of Vengeance

 

Nemesis, Goddess of Vengeance,
leading her army of women.
Vigilantes.
Intention: to capture and take down the men
who defiled children.

The men who casually used little girls for sexual pleasure.
Used them and tossed them aside.
Raped some to death.
Caused pregnancies and abortions.
Practised infanticide if a baby made it out alive.

The furious women called out to Nemesis.
"The rapists must be punished.
Lead us into battle. We'll crush them.
They destroyed innocents  and ruined futures."

Nemesis replied, "We must be subtle. We must be devious.
We must abduct them when least expected.
We will overpower, smash, and obliterate them,
but silently...until the deed is done."

Training commenced. A list of perpetrators made.
Research on habits, security details and locations done.
Combat and stealth instructions given.
A plan devised.

In time, it became known that men on the list began dying in particularly gruesome ways. Inexplicable disappearances took place. Bodies washed up on shores.
It was impossible to discern how these men were taken out despite having been heavily guarded.
The hidden knowledge was that the men's own wives and daughters, aunts and grannies were exposing them to retribution, secretly, silently, with no warning.

Eventually, Nemesis spoke to her army:
"We have triumphed over the monstrous creatures.
No more harm will they do. The punishment was death.
Hardly sufficient for their crimes but they've been stopped. In future, train your sons not to harm others, male or female, that this situation never again arises."


©Ellen Pepper 2025

image: fity.club

Mirror Moon

 

Majestic.
Soaring.
Reflecting.
Moon on the Midheaven
 
Moon is the Yin.
It is cyclical.
Mesmerizing.
Mysterious? Maybe.
It renews.
Nature's clock.

When they see you,
they don't see you -
they see their inner self revealed.
Evil is shocked by what they see in you
even though it's not yours.
Goodness extols your virtues,
far more extensive than you own.

Rarely truly seen,
you'll carry on in the hope that one day,
Maybe one day,
Your truth will be viewed fairly and kindly.

Women and waves ebb and flow with you.

You are the Moon,
invisible in the day, other than an occasional sliver.
A brightness in the night sky.
Travelling alone, reflecting the Sun.

©Ellen Pepper 2025

Unfinished Business

 

Words fail,
even while the mind bursts with them.

Until lessons are learned,
the torture will continue,
life after life.

Unexpectedly, a voice was heard
talking tripe about needing more...
More time, more effort, more courage.
And less hesitation and remorse.

Ceaseless repetition of human errors,
wandering far from the path
of skillful actions,
initiates a gradual loss of perspective.

A challenge made to unmake demands;
to free another from the cage of fear,
Results in loss of security.
There's no way home after that.

Walking away is the best choice.
Disengage from the perils 
of falling deeper into the void of loss.
Detachment is for the best.

Desuetude, liberation, surrender.

Karmic burdens signify
unfinished business will be carried over
to the next incarnation.
See this clearly. Accommodate.

Be at peace by release of care.
Don't crowd in.
Back away from there.
Pay heed, a nightingale is calling.

©Ellen Pepper 2025

image: birdguides.com

Solitary Christmas

 

Empty cups.
Silent table.
The unrung phone.
The untrod step.

Guests gave their regrets.
Family scattered far.
Friends with other friends.
No cookies in the jar.

The tinsel tree gave its last gasp.
Too many broken festive lights.
No turkey in the oven.
No gifts are causing fights.

This is what you wanted,
all those years ago -
no more holiday drama,
no more mistletoe.

The icy calm of quiet.
Music from the past plays on.
A comfy couch and time for thoughts,
Seen out the window, a faun.

Meditations deepen
as night encroaches.
No false cheer;
No gaudy broaches.

Another splendidly satisfying
Christmas Day.
Few can understand the attraction.
Of not being forced to play.

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

Image: dreamstime.com