On Our Way Home

Walking toward God’s redemption, passing life’s tragedies
head held high , not looking at the crack in the neighborhood. Will not let
surroundings make me part of its décor. We want more than shell shocked
condo on the river. We are walking toward the light, toward the future, toward a
better life with dignity on top. May cost extra, we are willing to pay. Eyes on the
prize, brass ring in reach. Come on sis we can grab it,
on our way home!

This Harsh Farm Land

Rolls of hay, rolling thunder of farm machinations bullying the family farm,tossed to the side like discarded Kleenex. Farmer needs his land to feed his pocket, to feed his family, his stock and his tractor so he can harvest some dignity for himself, much less his familial unit. Isn’t that the trend on Wall Street? Making humanity a number instead of a

Life.

Cows eat grass then pushed with a forklift into their eternal heaven, while being treated like hell. Grandma said, “Be nice to the animals, treat them with kindness.” Too bad the Corporate farmhands didn’t listen to their grandmamas. Maybe they would have realized even cows deserve

Liberty.

Rolling green hills and valleys God made. But satan said to hell with God, this is my land now. “We are going with progress over agri-kindness’ Fuck the future. We want ours now.” You’d think the devil said that, but no…it is We the People of the United States of America…Land of the “I” and Home of the FEE. I guess no one’s interested in the

Pursuit of Happiness.

Woods

Feeling childlike, lost in the
woods. Needing to act like
a man to find my way
out. Hard decisions need to be made
like in the poems of Frost and Coleridge. Nature
can be romantic this time of day, but treacherous at night. Monsters
awaken to soft tippy toes then
strike subtle weakness'. Eating berries of poison for survival
but no one showed you the difference, s0 you
may not be here for the second coming of the valley of the death
march. Maybe we can watch from the cheap
seats. Does anyone really win at this game
called LIFE or is it all
just game inside game inside
psychobabblification
made to make us think
the woods aren't a safe
place to crash. Seems it would be
because of the dead
leaves.

Late Night in America

No reason to get up. Stay up as
late as I want. No job. No school. No
hope. I used to love the cock’s crow. Signified
a new day dawning. Now sleep til three. Hate the setting sun. Nighttime means
re-runs of a life’s better days. Had job. Had life. Had meaning. Had
hopes upward mobility.

The Gravel Road

Sharp rocks hurt like Hell, but
I keep walking to make my way home.
Not to the trailer park. Trailers
don't hold up too well in violent storms.
I want the brick house that will say "Heyyyy,
that is not a storm, it's just a bad dream, the one you always
feel will come get you." She says it louder than the tornado's train track
which run down the middle of this gravel road. The
one that has the sharp rocks. That hurt like
HELL!

...LOVE

She lives
therefore she is
...LOVE.

Lecture by Poet Activist Legendary Amiri Baraka / LeRoi Jones

Lecture on politics in the poetic.

http://www.archive.org/details/naropa_amiri_baraka_lecture_on

Arrival / Departure

Arrival:
First kiss in decades. This one is more
important than all the ones before. This kiss
will say “Yayyyy” or Nay to the future of loves
commitment. Nervous joy and silent yearning over dinner
ends when we kiss the second, third, and so on. The week
goes by faster than a speeding bullet to my racing heart realizing
you are not ending the visit, but beginning a future…a future with possibilities
of forever.

Departure:
Jet plane gone in to the wild blue
Yonder. You are in the tail section waving
To a new me, one that cries at curbside departures and laughs
at you snorting while eating a nasty ass chicken wing. Giddy
giggling like 17 year old kids experiencing our first time
knowing it will not be the last. Thank you for the feelings
of love on a Christmas morning knowing the only gift I need to see
under the tree is you.

Futures Days and Nights

Long days and longer nights are no longer.
My days are filled with lush thoughts of
a future held together with roses, lilies, and
blue and white note cards that say, "Baby Thanks for being you"
My life was forever changed with one midnight, "Heyyyy"
Now I drift off to dream of beauty and wonderment and great stories
yet to come of days filled with laughter and joy and approachability.
Only you baby, can make "approachability" as saucy as the woman who said it.
Mine is forever and yours is forever with me. I love you past,
present, and future.

Come to Jesus

Knock at my front door,
I am afraid it's the boogeyman
he is wearing a shroud of humble,
honest caring and a beard of The Gospel truths.
Suffering isn't a pleasurable invitation, but vibrant
like the colors of a horribly nostalgic slasher film. One
that reminds of the past, but warns of better days. He
asks if I want to come along. If it's too good to be truth
it may very well be or it could be the answer to many
long prayers on longer nights from noon til dawn blessings of foot deep
tears and crying out for redemption. Is the argument with myself or with
that asshole that used to live in my mirror or from when I was a child. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to the Lord my soul to keep. Was it Him or me responsible for the survival. The jury is still out. Come back next week, I may have an answer for ya!

Farm Aide

Farm
House
About
Harm.
Strong-arm
Shout
Loud.
Police
Come.
Solace
Dumb.
No
Growth.

Children of the Night

Children of the Night
Taken, beaten to a pulp
Their Innocence Lost

Halo's Warmth

Shine in circles
around beauty that
already exists. Circular
light and auras brighten every
moment that passes like icebergs
that melt in cardiac warming. Only
the thaw is around the heart
and the layers of frost of
an ice age needed to walk
through fire and not burn my soul.

Shine the bright halo. It's OK now to melt away the
SINicism, the fear, the darkness that has protected
me. My muse says no one will harm me
ever
again.

Amends

(This is my first attempt at a real Minimalist Sonnet. This is an Italian form sonnet.)

Years

longing,

wronging.

Beers,

tears

trying

prying

spears.

Paid

Debts.

Made.

Wept!

Living,

Giving.

Funny Lady

"Splain" you say, I do.
Lucy you cracking me up. You giggle
then snort, the perfect snort. The one I wait to hear
when you laugh hysterically and then...here it comes......:snort:
I said all the funny things just to hear that precious sound
that lets me know you think I am funnier than all
the others have been. Another
way you tell me you love me. Then you tell a story and you make me
belly laugh outloud till I am crying and as the tears
fall I realize I have fallen so in love with the funniest lady, who
will never make
this clown cry again.

Tent City

Darkness walking
flames dance in iron
cylinders rising to the Gods
of the nocturnal. Gatherers hands raised
while mothers cry out in pain:
one shot, two hit, three hooked,
six raped, not just by the vile viper
but the system that protects
such apocalyptic ferals. Batman won't show
his mask in this part of Gotham.
Small tents house the lucky
while the harsh fight over the cardboard
cot. Cement pillows don't soften the blow the same
as a razor can. "No options" become real choices
when the chips are south of nothing. Hunger
steals, dope lies asleep until it screams out your
monogram. Food given then traded like an elementary school
lunch period. Except this time its adult trinkets that are traded.
Money, sex, character, dignity, integrity half price
after midnight. Seventy five percent off after 2 am. Fix gotta happen
like when a water pipe bursts in a house. They wouldn't know.
Ain't no water pipes in a tent. No neon campground. No KOA.
This is life. This is death.....next on the Channel Five news.

My Peace (Love Haiku)

You, my peace of mind.
My vision of happiness.
I pray I am yours.

Sold Down the River of Dreams

River city, no showboats
anymore. All that's left is a long
bank of empty hopes and
loud screams. Industry left on the last
train to Mexico and the Mexican people
did not get the memo. No more work
for the hometown riverboat captain, much
less the first mate.

The Grand Hotel is now a Wal-Mart with an
$8 per hour heartburn from the 99 cent lunch
they are forced to cook and then pay to eat. Sharp
dressed manager makes all the dough while the help
cooks the bread they don't make, but the Japanese do
from all the new techno I-terrific down-loadable prefab
four. McCartney even sold Lennon out, who had NO say in
the matter. Talk about a Revolution.

Giddy

Clouds forming
around my head
like a halo of grand
adjectives to define
love. Amorous, beloved,
cherish, devotion, enchanted.
But she defies definition. She is greater
than the sum of all portions involved. She
takes me to a palace I never thought I could
visit. She takes me up steps I never dreamed I
could walk. She takes away my breath, my sorrow,
my lonely. We begin again with belief that every song
can ring true, every behavior can be changed and giddy
Is the right adjective to talk about love the beginning. My
giddy is truth and my past is all a lie. My life is very close to right.

God's Gift to Me

Gift
bestowed
not borrowed
but given freely
from Grace
her eyes shine
like the rays of
a new midnight sun
her smile shimmers
its way to me for that
first taste of love from her
sass, waiting to hear the words
said to my eyes and not my ears
Love is a gift of action from one love to
another.

It's Friday!

Gifts

She stands in the corner.
I stand in disbelief. I cannot believe
she loves me. I have taken so much
from the world. I have given most of it back,
yet God still bestows gifts. He has returned my honor,
My Integrity, My Character and My courage. He has also returned
her to me. A gift I never thought I would see again, Thank you for
the party and all the gifts given. God Bless my love!

Help with Hands

Hands folded at Sunday dinner. Southern
pride shown through prayer. Cussin’
your cousin under deep breaths. What
is that loser doing here? He belongs to Jesus.
Everyone needs a little help. Embarrassed by
your words, he leaves and fixes
your tire
as he walks
home.

Train, Train

Train leaves the station. Crazy cravings keep me
inside “The Know”. Like “The Know” is a good place to be. Down in
The Valley
next to Motel Hell. There she is
the guttersnipe,
smokin’ the pipe.
Man is she ripe,
With the stench of not giving
A FUCK!
Laundromat Libido Bathroom
Motel – rent by the slot. Twenty 5 cents for 15 minutes
plus a twenty for her troubles. All that to think…
5
4
3
2
1

NOW GIVE ME MORE or I
will slice Your Ass UP!
Blade out.
Flesh ripped. For
what? A
blood-stained craving
with a side of tears?

Cleansed

You
are

the
kindest

deluge
of

rain.
Washing

clean
like

redemption
of

the
repentant.