Soaking in ..old family photos
while submerged in Georgia rains,
I become lost in the darkest depths
of their black and white remains.
I am vicariously transported
to one hundred memories past,
Silent voices call me to follow
through my families complex caste.
One a Dutch indentured servant
who became of man of local wealth,
Another a circuit ridin' preacher
Spread the gospel, paid with pelts.
Then dark eyed lady wishing
to share privately with me,
Our painful bond of child birth and death
"Time, never sets one free."
Soaking in old family photos
Submerged in joy and pain
Taken to the darkest depths
of pouring Georgia rains.
saw I a young man under a tree wearing red check shirt,
the rain was pouring down on him,
I remembered an old urban legend;
a bird which could set anything alight by just flying over it,
To this day, I haven't seen it.
The old passed on without solving that bird's rumour,
Some people take me for a fool,
All I see in I is a slow learner,
The world is moving too fast for me,
One minute I am walking,
The next I hear a stranger say words unkind.
Things that happened a week ago never happened,
I know what the wise say;
God makes the same thing happen over and over again.
Who amongst the current crop of comrades could replace you?
Exactly what I thought!
No one could ever walk in your shoes.
Just tuned on to my radio and heared a show presenter cackle,
Beneath his breath the word control popped out,
That is how we currently are,
You must have observed before trumpets were blown,
The world is missing the genuinity of your wonderful speeches,
Your care less dance moves.
Day by day my heart lightens up my face with joy,
I can't hold back tears of excitement,
I no longer care how my actions influence others,
They say I should steer clear of you,
They say I would bring bad luck to the land,
What curse because you are my grandfather?
I know your name was called for a soldier to be born,
Who will not pay attention to what others say about him,
A nation without respect for mankind is a dead one,
I draw inspiration from how you devoted your life to a good cause,
Much love and respect to you Doctor Mandela,
I will keep walking behind you no matter the threat.
I take a sip of black coffee
It sits resting in the ceramic mug next to this typing space
The liquid rushes down my throat
This fifth cup of the hour brings joy
Is it a crutch, for I miss my usual companions of mind expansion?
Or is it a common cultural ritual of casual importance?
Is it a tool to fuel the fire of prolific inspired thoughts?
Or is it an illusion of harmful dedication to fulfill the need to write?
I feel it helps,
Though, naturally, it is not necessary.
Just as wine to wet the palate of flow,
Or an herbal cigarette to get the picture on the roll, the scroll, the holy goal
It simply is a habit - an extra step to the top floor of Creation.
I've been in the fields - the plantations
I've picked the coffee bean with my own hands for hours upon hours on end,
Leaving nothing but sticky hands and a limp paycheck to help me continue on my way.
Where am I headed?
Only the sky knows the answer to that question.
I try my very best to listen to its whispers
And imitate its words with action
I try and follow the orders of the divine to the best of my ability
But I am human,
And with that fact, I am hindered by natural law
And so I sit quietly on this lazy sunshine afternoon, sipping my black coffee
Recalling the days of sticky hands and limp paychecks in the humid fields of fate
And laugh at the craziness of my existence.
When I was born, did I think that I'd be here today, recalling such things
And forever immortalizing them in word and symbol?
I can't recall.
Perhaps I did , but perhaps I didn't.
They say that you choose your family before your come into this world.
But did they also say that you’d pick your face and desires?
Did they say that you’d be exactly who you wanted to be?
I’m not too sure who “they” are, but I don’t really care
As I poured the coffee into this mug,
I also choose what I want to do, who I want to be, and just how I shall love the world
As a human, we’re born free
The mind creates whatever it wants to base its perspective on reality off of.
The lock of gravity to keep us from floating away
Even when you’ve had a drop or two of ol’ Sandoz, you’re still kept from flying from the world
Words can fly, though
At least spoken word.
The words carry a vibration, a soundwave, which continue throughout the cosmos for eternity,
Unless eternity doesn’t exist in this universe,
In which case, they shall bounce off the walls of Space and Time and ricochet back to their source
Oh holy game of Sound Tennis
Free us from thinking you don’t exist
When the game is being played, its easy to forget that its just a game
It is only a game
Sitting in the sunshine of afternoon daze,
Sipping away at coffee and dreams
Life seems more like a blessing of bizarre circumstance and genuine interest in formful comfort
As opposed to a game with no more of a meaning than to finish it and try win in the meantime
Something seems fishy
And it isn’t the cat or the caffeine
Its the bare existence of existence
Perhaps I’m dancing around in circles, getting nowhere
But is there actually anywhere to go?
Sure, I’d love to be on the beach in ninety degree weather in the Cayman Islands rather than the cold of This northeastern mountain range of poor old troubled Amerika
But such is life
Perhaps one day I’ll be back on the beaches, dreaming easy of nothing, for the dream has already been Fulfilled, oh what a dream
With a farm up the hill from the coast
With fresh gardens and fruit trees and cannabis and coconuts and a shack of humble gratitude
With rivers and fish and goats and chickens
With sunshine and warmth and light and forever blue skies
With a woman of love and peace and art and intellect and wisdom and smiles
With the quaint knowledge that everything is always alright, regardless of circumstance
With the security of not needing security
With the freedom to laugh without pausing out of courtesy to not wake the sleeping
With the ghastly beauty of not waiting in line to ride a roller-coaster, for the mind is more than enough
With twists and turns and self-inflicted burns
With the crazy catch of tomorrow while still being here today
With nothing less than paradise awaiting the caress of self’s heart
And the holy notion that there’s something even greater on the other side of this life
Om, tranquil being
Pour more coffee, must stay awake - no sleep in days
No sleep in weeks
How do those speedy speedsters do it?
I wouldn’t even want to try
I enjoy my dimethyltriptamine inspired voyages across unforeseen holographic landscapes of the Subconscious
Oh, I’m conscious of that
I wonder if it’d be possible to bring the totality of the subconscious mind to full conscious awareness
I suppose it wouldn’t be the subconscious anymore
And thus there would be no way to measure if it worked or not
I think it’s already working
Yep, it’s working,
At one-twenty-eight a.m. It’s working. From noon to night. Life is still life, and it’s all alright.
Articles of these dire times
Remind me of my soul's state.
It tries to fly, though misguided by
The pursuits of materialism and "joy",
But it chokes on the band. With leash in hand,
My master demands I obey his commands.
"Sit", "Shake", "Give the rich your money".
Never to reach the land of milk and honey,
My soul lays tied to the ground, reading
Articles of these dire times.
I sit in this lone room.
Full of others but still no joy.
These lessons being beaten into my mind.
I don't want to learn this, these requirements.
I want to learn of my passions,
My life goals, my loves.
The teacher continues, not knowing,
The thoughts blocking out their words.
"You can do better than this" they say.
I am doing better,
This mind is more complex than anything.
You've never seen a mind this bright.
But you can't test a fish's intellect,
By asking it to climb a tree.
I am the fish,
This school is the tree.
The class is a prsion,
my mind wants to be free.
And this is when we
We are our very own
And our depression
Comes from within.
And every second longer
It hurts a little bit more
From your insides.
You feel that familiar ache
In your heart, your sad blood
Pumps it all around your body.
You breathe it in
With each sighing breath
And you cry it out
Until ÿöü gasp for air.
It's the self hate
And it's the loathing,
It's sitting in bed
And not eating at all
Or eating too much.
It's too many imperfections
On your skin
So deep it reaches the inside...
It's no power
And hopeless love
Of a nation
With every word they say
You hear the pain
In our laugh,
You can't see the smile in our eyes.
We are dead and wasted
At the age of youth.
We don't feel the free joy
Or the comfort of strong hands
All we feel is our sick hearts
With something that is
Hate and pity and horror
And everything into one.
It is dangerous.
We the people,
The new people,
The forever youth
With forever words,
And the forever pain.
I don't want to live in a world without you
it's empty and worthless
nothing to look forward to
I can't see your flawless face
nothing brings me joy
it's all vacant
so let me jump
and end my days of pain
Chastised flies buzz high
Beguiling wildly wind whipped window washers
While presumptuously floating on CO2 currents
Sprayed streaks criss –cross the sky presenting
Atmospheric cubism for the lonely bystander
Representatives regurgitate revolutionary stories
From broken stairs on weathered monuments
Crushing oppression fills flared nostrils breathing deep
Reigning terror from the empire which birthed us all
Media propagated horror show, three meals a day
…………….none withstanding, nothing withheld
Closeness replaces character and huddled victims
Hungrily eyeball each other’s flesh
Sweat covered dirt coated quadriceps glisten
As if to beacon a bite
Gnashed teeth clench against fists flown from children
Bent on self-destruction and socialized hate
Forever consumed by the goal of individualism and liberty ideologies
There tears create new inland seas
Justified lies perpetrated by powerful provocateurs
Looking for the next big score
Seeking the last vestige of person freedom
Loss costs the unhappy Boss
Whitey…. The man….. Corporate America as an individual god-head
Watching with predatory diligence
Us as we struggle
The laughter can be heard through-out the cosmos
Joy expressed so freely knows no bounds
We are the enslaved masses without hope
Without the knowledge that we are slaves
Smiles widen while the truth becomes clear
Eyes light up at future prospects
Hands clap and feet stomp at the spectacle
Humanity hates itself
I would never be able to find the correct words
to write about you
so I guess I'll just play with them
and hope you can see what I'm doing.
Love never crossed my mind
at least never the kind I've discovered with you
yet every new day you bring something new to the table
to surprise me with something that is truly real.
Our stories will be intertwined
in the most wonderful book
we'll each write chapters and verses
and see what we've accomplished in the end.
Very rarely would I ever doubt you
even if the skies in my mind turned grey
and I lost all sense of myself
I would still see you as beautiful.
Each and every thought of you
brings a tear to my eye
and yet you still make my heart leap with joy
when I wake up to see your face.
You're like my favorite book
full of surprises, twists and turns,
and unforgettable memories
which I hope I can share with you.
Our very bodies work together in a beautiful melody
playing off each other in perfect sequence and harmony
I could explore you for days, months, years
a very lifetime of knowing you so fully.
Underneath the stars,
your eyes still shine the brightest
I wonder what sort of things make them seem to dance like that
I'd sure love to take a lifetime to find out.
Not really sure where this came from. Hint: read the first letter of each stanza down from first to last, it spells something. Cheesy? Maybe. I'm tired. Goodnight.
my soul today
My december blues
always comes in a wintery mix
Darkness falls like
Upon my cold lonely soul
Leaving tracks on my heart
Tracing back to
Faces of people
Family I love
Christmas only brings pain
Distant laughter in the rain
My hearts seeks joy
Finding only shadows and cracked smiles
Along the walls of memories
Inside my veins
Hearing small bits of laughter
in the shadows of
Like transfigured people
As my mind drifts
between the shivers of cold
I fold away
Praying for courage
to greet another day
In this december bliss
Not all are happy
In the mystical time
As joys have somehow floated
Rested on my heartstrings
It burrows down deep
to hold the faces of loved ones
I wishfully try to keep
In my december blues
my tears flow into the
arms of the unknown
has gone into the streams
As silence closes
By Weeping willow