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 came upon the page and thought to write of who I am and who I was.
I thought it best to explain the things that people saw when they looked my way.
How I came to be what I see in my own reflection.
I gave benefit of doubt that they would or could then have some understanding. Perhaps naivety was my flaw?
The more I wrote the fewer looked.
Is it simply me or the openness that makes it so?
Is it what they see or the not wanting to really know?
Could it be that honesty is a frightening thing?
Am I better off to keep secrets and carry a facade?
Would then perhaps more be interested in who I am?
Would they then have the time to stop a while?
Or is it simply having seen they see no value?
And yet it is that I still need to fill the page...
and to hope someone will see me and stop a while.

like the space,
i am square
because i was
was not there.

Our days roll away like dropped coins.
Individual moments are continually lost,
Often never to be reflected upon again.
But the epochs of a full life remain,
Safeguarded by the cushions of our couch,
Waiting for when we are in need of a treat.

You seem to know where you're needed


to whom this command addressed is a crazy me-man,
a street walking big DaVinci ibearded mumbler,
the kind you would cross the street
before the smell is close enough
to sending you running, not just
politely walking fast but a souped up
hi-yo silver away!

this guise no surprise,
you must and do
already know where I’m needed,
sealing the pact with a yellowtine post-it
writ in simple block letters ordered in a brewed cafe,
my latte arrive states my name as

come see me

come to the time the place and the date

and prepare oneself for twenty and fours
of rigid interoperability as our systems
interface reach the pure state of 100%
ultimate wordless dialogue

communicating
in with by
perfect silence
heaven

you will write a verse,
my reciprocation
is already prepared

this terse repartee
will many spawn poems generational
for your family amazing and extended

an elephnat never forgets,
his servers are a rolling stone
with no direction home,
capacity unknown
every blade sighted retained,
and every sensate glance
a phrase seeded

departure will find me clean shaven,
pressed jeans neat,
and shod in well worn dockers,
cloaking my innate invisibility

when the children ask who was that,
you’ll sage reply

one new who knew where one was needed