On balance the scales have been tilted. Truth has given way to spin doctrine. Equality is not what it should be and the lady has lost her blindfold. The court of man has failed as it has forsaken divine guidance. Now the bribe has blinded justice in a different way. The unfair balances tilt in the favor of the powerful and the well to do. Poverty which was once a problem is now a curse. In hallowed halls that once gave a voice to the oppressed, now the kings ply their trade as politicians speak with silver words. Justice is worth the price you can pay for it and the unwashed masses are left to fight over crumbs in hope of finding some favor and redress.

Look me in the face
Tell me you don't love me
That you don't care anymore
That I mean nothing to you
That you want your stuff back
That you don't want my stuff anymore
Don't give me those little glances in class, or in the hallway, or in the cafeteria
Look into my eyes
And tell me

I want you to be in my head, I want you to be in my heart. I want our souls to be one so that we will never be apart. I want to feel your spirit each time I am alone. I want you to join me and make a house a home. I want to finish your sentences. I want for you and I to just be. I want you inside of me, for you are the better part of me.

Life is beautiful,
Even in its ******* things.
The small bags of life-
The creases in the paper,
The untying bands of bracelet,
The crinkled edges of the dollar bill,
The thin dark gunk
Collected upon the penny,
The uneven water splashed upon
The bathroom sink,
The droplets upon the toothbrush,
The random foam of the fluoride rinse,
The fraying strands of gray and black
Athletic sock,
The clouded water
Lying below the ivory soap
In its dish-
These are unpleasant, yes,
But they remind us
That we are in this world,
That this is no false world
But a quite real one,
One which we can shape
Or help shape,
One that is worth living in,
Worth loving in,
A good world.

Meet me tonight my love
Meet me in the middle
between today and yesterday
Where the air was sweeter
and the sky was bright with hope.
The music was old and melodic
passions were strong and endless.
The end was only
the last line of a movie.
Now I know the needs of my life
Its hunger for things of passion.
Looking down a tunnel
I seek the light that is you
only you.
So meet me my love
Come meet me
between today and yesterday.
For today is too cold
and yesterday too warm
So meet me in the middle.

Someone is playing a Spanish Guitar
By
Jude Kyrie

*Sat alone at the edge of the warm ocean.
Nighttime illuminated brightly,
by a candelabra of moon and stars.
This hot humid night of summer
overpowering me dragging my spirits
Into its sultry mood.

In the distance
someone is playing Spanish guitar.
Its melody almost mournful.
Bringing back my thoughts of you.
Memories that scar heart and soul.
Wavelets lap the shore like your kisses
The night breezes are your sweet breath.
Reflections of a life half lived visit me once again.
.
In the distance
Someone is playing spanish guitar.
Note by note burning into my soul
reviving the lost feelings of desolation.
Thoughts weeping for you.

Morning is creeping over the horizon
This night is sinking into me.
I am burning for you.
Sleep now is only a distant memory.
You fade away with the
advancing light of morning.

In the distance
Someone is playing Spanish guitar
And my soul is weeping.

For you
The moon and stars.

It was so long ago
I know it was spring the
Lilacs were pungent and everywhere
the air was drenched with their fragrance.
I did not know I was happy back then.
Each day more chores to do
not enough sleep.
Always working and never enough money.
The children came one after another.
the youngest newer than the springtime.

It was so long ago
when we sat on our porch
sipping hot coffee
a rare adult moment for us.
In the early quiet cool spring morning.
Our children still asleep in their beds.
On the table next to the coffee ***
a rolled newspaper full of war
and drama of the day, lay untouched.

I remember looking up
at you at that moment.
Your beautiful hair
stirring in the slight morning breeze.
I saw you then not as my wife
or mother to my children,
but as a woman
the one I could never get enough of
when we first met.

I thought how good your hair would feel
falling onto my bare chest in our bed.
If only I could have frozen that moment in time
put it into a bottle like a captured insect.
To open and breathe its fragrance,
again and again through the passing years.
To last me forever in good and bad times.

If we could return to that moment
and you were to ask me then,
"My love are you happy?"

There in a distant time
on the old porch with lilac’s
cascading from its broken trellis
in glorious fragrant abundance.
Beside the floral pathways
of a far off spring

I would have answered
to you softly
in a loving whisper.
"yes my love.
Very happy,
so very happy."