We are the voice of our generation
From all walks of life
Sharing our joy and pain

We are representatives of a society that struggles
We feel the passion to voice our views
We are stirred to write  out of necessary
A yearning to voice our thoughts

Well after we are gone our words are forever in print
For future generations to study and learn
Who we were and what we were thinking And WHY
Our struggles, our points of view matter more the we will ever know

Our voice matters
While we need to respect other points of views
We must also stand strong  for what be truly believe
Defending our hope, pride, and the American way

In other countries people right to freely say what they think
Is not permitted
Stifled by a leadership serpressing their freedom and voice
Their opinions

As long as we are free and proud our voice must be heard
In retrospect this is a tremendous honor and burden
To be the voice of reason for our Generation

A wise man raised his hand,
Declares intent to speak.
Says nothing.
A crowd begins to think.

When I was a child
I was alway board,My mom would say
Read a good book for a while
Today’s digital age that might sound strange
But getting lost in a book, a life rearranged
I could Image in vivid detail, words come to life, popped off the page
Experience situations; first love, true hate, violence, controlled rage
I flourished in the imagery of my imagination
perception limited only by age’s infatuation
I began to love school,with a book, self taught,homework a breeze
Comprehending subjects, life made sense, I was at ease
As I grew through the seasons
I saw my friends struggle in school, for many reasons
I asked my closest friends do you read non text books on your own
No they laughed, labeling me a nerd, one said you mean alone?
I realized school books were my ticket to any where
I could fulfill my dreams with the right books, I would make it there
I learned to be a professional student, class tests, so predictable to see
Different points of views interest me,
Pushing the teachers To challenge me became fun to win
School became a game I was a sponge soaking it all in
There were few teachers that challenged me to dig deeper within
Creative writing is really where my life truly would begin
I achieved every goal I set with drive and determination
I desired to leave my mark for my generation  
Writing my life story is more then just a means to an end
So, If your a mother,grandmother,or good friend
If you hear a child say they are board
Tell them “to read a good book, and we can discuss it”
However if their nose crinkles, they say they hate to read
It’s your duty to Intercede
A trip to the library is all you need
Help them find a book so amazing they don’t want to put it down
When they carry that book reading it all around town
You know your job is well done
They will be hooked on reading and that’ only half the fun
where books take them on life’s journey, is as infinite as the stars
A much brighter future then  illiterate  battle scars

The faces we show
in the work field,
 Our business or to
our Boss,and customers
The faces we show
at church,
when we ask for
forgiveness and pray
The faces we show
our friends,
Even those differ
with each person

All predicated  
by the walls we so
carefully construct
strategically hiding
who we really are

The faces we show
a loved one
When we
Let down
the walls

The faces we show
to the innocent children
are the most honest  
depending upon
the age of the youth

The inner me is in
direct contrast
to who I am
The only time
we show
our true face
Is when we
look in the mirror

Do we know
who is looking
back at us
Do we like
what we see
Is it you?
is it me?
Push away

We are all
masters in  disguise
Hiding in plain sight

The inner me
is in direct
contrast to
who I am

What I see
in the mirror
I think
HECK NO
Who is that
old lady
looking back
at me

My faces
have deceived
Even Me!

molly
the waitress
at Town diner

wants to be a model
or a nun,
tells me she's a poet

we're sitting on
a couch in her apartment.
molly takes a poem from
a foot high stack
on the end table,
hands me a poem,
"FIRST BRA," by Molly C.
it's about buying
her first bra at 12.
"i was big.
i needed a bra at 11,"
she smiles.

now
she doesn't wear bras.

she tells me
rod mckuen
is the most read
poet
in America.

"what about walt,
plath,
hughes?" i asked.

"no
no,"
she says,
"mckuen is the MOST
popular poet
in American history,
no,
really
the greatest American poet."

molly loves rod mckuen.

i love molly.

"if the public loves
rod mckuen,"
i tell her,
you've got a shot.
you could be the  female version
of rod mckuen."

molly smiles
takes me by the hand
and leads
me up the stairs
to the loft.

she takes the ribbon
from her hair.

i lay her down
on the bed

and bang the hell
out of
the next
most read
American poet

I have no purpose any more.
I’m a painter who’s gone blind
And a singer who’s gone deaf.
There is no call for what I sell.

I still daub colors on a board
To smell the Linseed Oil again
I hear the music in my head
And mouth the words in silence.

There is no surgery or cure,
What’s gone is lost forever.
And I must find a way to live
In silent darkness, if I can.
              ljm