I can't end the year this way,
the title of this piece won't sway,
It is not an anchor to hold the stay,
but wait and listen to the choir singing
as they practice in the church hall down
the road, with too many cars, so listen...closely
and you may hear the high notes on
a night clear like this, just like this,
the information that swirls on and on,
about people, places and events,
homeless people kicked out of the park and tents,
political figures mishapen by absolute power,
absolute greed,
absolution to them a quick rinse in a shower,
more information feed my gluttonous mind,
I absorb none of it as there is newnews to find,
there is a woman out there
who has a reputation for causes,
wicked witch in the East beyond Oz,
gut check as some said
world paused to remember well,
so much left to do there as well,
Oh Africa!
The world's greed for your resources,
makes nasty fodder for the choices,
as to who is in charge this week.
So much pain, it is plain to see I can't write about it all, it would take an eternity.
A loss this year like no other, but a life to celebrate, who will Madiba motivate?
Natural disaster, filled with remorse after the eye of and storm has passed,
loved ones looking their loved ones lost, some evil gang backfills, a brand
of poison into the the void, the pain the anguish, in lives,
to steal the aid and make it their prize, to be aportioned at their will and price.
And George is back in the news...sad, so many things this year that make me
want to ball up my fists and punch the air, walk down the streets until I begin
to shout and let it out, harm no more, harm no more, anniversaries of bullets,
and little ones who touched, so many with who they were, I wonder who they would
have been,
I am not being flip and this is not Christianese, but God knows as the spirits they are
and He is.
There is no one poet
who can say it all,
there is no one place
that tears did not fall,
this may be a wrap up,
I have left so much out
and it falls so short,
maybe the ink I spill
is wrongly placed.
Tomorrow night at midnight, let's just embrace REFRESH!
not forgetting
lessons learned
poetic stripes
maybe earned
by writing or typing or wiping away tears
I could go one, but that is one of my fears,
...losing you.
©DWE122013
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
I can't end the year this way,
the title of this piece won't sway,
It is not an anchor to hold the stay,
but wait and listen to the choir singing
as they practice in the church hall down
the road, with too many cars, so listen...closely
and you may hear the high notes on
a night clear like this, just like this,
the information that swirls on and on,
about people, places and events,
homeless people kicked out of the park and tents,
political figures mishapen by absolute power,
absolute greed,
absolution to them a quick rinse in a shower,
more information feed my gluttonous mind,
I absorb none of it as there is newnews to find,
there is a woman out there
who has a reputation for causes,
wicked witch in the East beyond Oz,
gut check as some said
world paused to remember well,
so much left to do there as well,
Oh Africa!
The world's greed for your resources,
makes nasty fodder for the choices,
as to who is in charge this week.
So much pain, it is plain to see I can't write about it all, it would take an eternity.
A loss this year like no other, but a life to celebrate, who will Madiba motivate?
Natural disaster, filled with remorse after the eye of and storm has passed,
loved ones looking their loved ones lost, some evil gang backfills, a brand
of poison into the the void, the pain the anguish, in lives,
to steal the aid and make it their prize, to be aportioned at their will and price.
And George is back in the news...sad, so many things this year that make me
want to ball up my fists and punch the air, walk down the streets until I begin
to shout and let it out, harm no more, harm no more, anniversaries of bullets,
and little ones who touched, so many with who they were, I wonder who they would
have been,
I am not being flip and this is not Christianese, but God knows as the spirits they are
and He is.
There is no one poet
who can say it all,
there is no one place
that tears did not fall,
this may be a wrap up,
I have left so much out
and it falls so short,
maybe the ink I spill
is wrongly placed.
Tomorrow night at midnight, let's just embrace REFRESH!
not forgetting
lessons learned
poetic stripes
maybe earned
by writing or typing or wiping away tears
I could go one, but that is one of my fears,
...losing you.
©DWE122013
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