An ocean splashed the sky;
clouds little boats for angels to
reel in stars upon will; their gills
glow for human eyes to scope-out
and connect the dots, one by one.
The moon a forest for the alien
gophers; burrowing amongst its
craters, feasting on passing comets,
and yet; we fail to see.
A rainbow, for the giants after their
grievances, sprout a smile on
mile-long faces, as the days got harder
to stay sunny.
Drear for the shadows, the little
rats of the night, hissing at morn
and hurting, shrinking as
golden lasers black-
All feedback is appreciated!
I recently got reminded... Oh how I am caught
In a delicate web of disillusions
Make me see what is actually not
Make invisible my heart's secret questions
Been successful in putting aside all grief
But truth has it's way to make you pay
You can bury all grievances; you can mask all disbelief
But it'll all catch up; these things you've kept at bay
Make your silly compromises
To have the the best you just make allowances
Keep up your futile pretences
Accommodate your selfish preferences
Day had dawned where each question need their answer
Questions I've shrugged and left unaddressed
Indistinguishable when fact and fiction begin to blur
When dreams and reality have coalesced
Tonight I lay with the load I bring
Body asleep with my heart fully awake
Blessing or curse, this rude awakening
Decisions and choices left for the following suns to make
Every day the liquid of grievances moistens my cheeks
My special mother like a towel wipes it away
Without her I don’t have another shoulder to lean on
Even though the other shoulder is somewhere for others.
This liquid of grievances blossomed into an ink
An ink that will paint my million wishes without drying.
Wishes that compose a letter to you, my unknown soldier
The soldier whose heroic exploits produced merits he desires not.
I always ask myself many questions without answers
All streaming from why you planted a seed you never desired.
You left me without bidding farewell even to mother
As if you travelled to the next world to join our ancestors.
The only memories of you that I have are your handsome pictures
The pictures your Juliet kept as a memory of her special Romeo.
These twenty miles I have walked without you are like hell
With every step carrying a thousand wishes of meeting you.
Upon my arrival on this earth your Juliet named me after you
And every moment our name is called I see visions of you.
Visions that provide a false hope that I will see you after the call
A hope that you will answer the call of your name in my presence.
The poem "A letter to my father" is a sad poem about a child whose father left before he was born. It is considered one of my best poems.
It is not the taste you are after--
The caustic, lingering bitterness, no.
It is the change.
The small but definite step from haggard man
To bright and solemn sage.
You put the crystal to your lips
And drink eagerly, each breath that fogs the glass
An imperceptible whisper of your grievances.
There’s an assembly in the making
and the suits are all shuffling in for the big event
making their way to the front row seats
****** in nose
hanky in hand
and all colorfully draped
in those cuffed pin stripes
and Jerry Garcia ties
now what would the Grateful Dead
or any of their fine entourage
have to say about this foul routine?
Apropos of that
they’re talking in the 3rd person
with tight syllables
and wavy hands
and all taking a run
at the state of the union
and good old Sal
"look....their fiddling with their nuts!"
cries a layman from the balcony seats
the Yin and the Yang
have got even the most liberal minded
scratching their heads
as questions fly in from the field:
don’t you know the way it used to be?
have you no morals?
which way to the exit!?
These front row fanatics
have surely been scrimmaging
in the corn fields
all down in that classic 3 point
watching their weight
with sample selections from the
Spicy House and Yaas Bazaar
members of the congregation look on with (concerned) envy
pass the aperitif...the big ***** lady is on deck!
Union heads are running rogue
loading up on grievances
passing files at a make shift pew
jumping the bunkers
and stepping on clams
while the orderlies move in
It’s a bewildered state
and only for the mind of the rigorous
Jimmy D would say:
“it’s nothing you *****...to the victor goes the spoils!
everyone has a bit of good you know...
you just have to find it!"
Unrest is growing in the ranks
and the masses are unstable
Time to hammer down
with a formidable brace
and two tick play