There was a richness
                              in her voice
A calm, deliberate, unstressed
                              expression of thoughts
Even if in disagreement
                              I never offered a voice
Only listened
Content, in the melodiousness
                              of the breathing of her mind

Occupying the same space
In a new place
Easing the restrictions
Of a jailed set of comforts
Exploring building tops
With no way down
But sheer will
And a desire to fly
Walking the ledges
High in the city
Toes hanging fearlessly
Somewhere
Over there
I'm told
There is better air
Resembling life
With a different twist
Spinning spirals
Fingertips
Feeling how blue
The sky might be
Or finding where it ends

I use my elbow
Not my sharp elbow
My sharpened elbow
To wade
          and make my way
Through the throngs
          of bleeding hearts
                   disturbing my peace
MY----- peace of mind
With their empathetic conjectures
          of what my purpose might be
Leave it alone! PEOPLE!
It's every man for himself
Or should I say "every person"
In hopes that it pleases
          some inexhaustible demand
For compliance
          In being politically correct
          On not only the trivial
                    but meaningless matters
I will strive
I will survive
I will thrive
In my complacency
         to recognize anyone
                         with thoughts
                                     different than my own
My bubble is made of nylon and prejudice
Woven band over band
Against the slithering bombardment
Of knowledge or ethics
       I live very comfortably
                   in my two bath home
        Except for the fear
        Sometimes a terror
        That brown people and Muslims
                                   are trying to take it away

He doffed his hat
         To the maiden there
Said " If you wouldn't mind, if you might not care,
I've lost my way upon these cobblestone streets.
My sick mother, I'm here to see."

She led him through the shifting paths
Sunlight here,
                     there shadows cast
A winding trail, of smell and dirt
         He traded his sixpence, she traded her worth
         No knives were drawn, nobody got hurt
Just a circle of footsteps
                                 trod on this earth

I was born
In a place
        nobody wants to come from
And I'm here
        breathin' your air
I was formed
        from a bad piece of clay, son
Don't look me in the eyes
        'cause there ain't nothin' there

I spend
         most of my time alone now
Nobody but me
          has my back
Some people say
           I got a little chip on my shoulder
Be careful
           If you wanna get you some of that

Count your blessings
          my mama would say
She said
           your daddy slipped in
           then slipped away
Go outside boy
Go out and play
There's another daddy comin'
                                               later today

I was born
In a place

He looked down at his wrists
He must have tried to resist
The purple cuff marks
         were as plain as day
Even in the yellow light
Upper bunk, late at night
He felt no need to pray
What would he say?
         Except for what he said
                                         an hour before
         To his group of comrades
                  locked behind the same door
"I guess I ****** up again."

Turned out
Burned out
His mind a vacant lot
Debris and weeds, grown up
"Stay Out" sign, thrown up
No one to own up
To the mess on the block

Hard to restore
Trying to ignore
The broken concrete
Like wounds unclosed
Crumbling and overdosed
Garbage in the street

A hope at best
To find some rest
In a seamless mind
Like newspapers tossed
In deserted lots
Where no one walks
Without a glance behind