i hurt and you hurt me
and i'm the only one
im tired of the conflicts erupting between us all
let's get our act together and answer the needed call
the politics and policies are in grave need of revision
why can't we get together to avoid the mad collision
throw away all the so call facts and see what's going on
quit throwing your temper into the fray and creating a nation that's gone...
Brian Hill - 2020 # 278
I like it when you call me when you're drunk.
it makes me feel less crazy.
at least I know you think of me,
even if its in the absence of your sobriety.
call from Mother Earth the other day...
“yea, this is Mother Earth”
wow, what can I do for you?
“well, I’ve been noticing that some of your poems are about me”
that’s true, are you happy about that?
“so far, however, could you ask the people to not use so much water?
there is going to be a little bit less in your area this year”
what’s the problem, I ask?
“well, she said, I decided to not send in the monsoons this year and appears to have been a mistake”
so that was you?
“yes it was, and I’m a bit sorry. it’s going to cause a bit of a light winter as well I think”
is there anything we can do?
“just use a bit less water for a while”
and she was gone...or I woke up, not entirely sure
Brian Hill - 2020 # 243
When my soul gets bubbled inside gloominess , there's only one potent voice that blasts the bubble ; my inner voice who calls me out , ' Spriha , don't listen to anyone except me. '
I am not scared of thunder
The low rumbles cause no fear
but when thunder is on the table
It's my phone beckoning my ear
I am not scared of lightning
I look at the electric sky in awe
But the candescent screen terrifies me
because of the Caller ID that I saw
I am not scared of storms
the rain doesn't make me sad
but a raincloud is hanging over me
for that phone call was from my dad
I am not scared of hail
though the crystal bullets cause pain
you have never cared about me
so a call from you hurts just the same
I am not scared of hurricanes
though I think I probably should be
I'm not here to soothe your conscience
making you feel good is not my responsibility
I am not scared of the weather
for I know that it will always fluctuate
storms don't stick around for long
neither did you for the son you helped create
There must be a message
in the occurrence that whenever
in a closed-up space of time
I can never sit down
to any mind-occupying activity
yet resort no matter what
passing as unrequited passion
of someone else’s (vocation),
shape-o-thoughts and sensing,
being the music the radio is listening to, and tender stupefying approaching
to hurt questions and structures
who hold onto philosophy
and one stance.
My depth darts me over
to finally look straight
into my own eyes
instead of straying,
diverting from the claim of my proper door.
I cannot die and will not,
will not leave my higher stake
for the trash bins’,
among which we live in,
The ever urging in order
to keep me liberated,
my Life sated
And keep me reminded
that I have a Soul and subtle meanings
Like on many, especially dark,
On the children back seat.
I think about calling you
But I know it would only disappoint
“Hey, what’s up—your friends not home?
Why are you calling me on the phone?”
I’d lie and say I just had time to waste
Went from my safest place to saving face
And it’s sad
Sad I no longer know you like that