Theres something
I would like to ask

Sitting in this coffee shop
Watching as time laps

In this country that we live
A part of a mass

Yet divided
Amongst social class

I imagine now a cow
Eating green grass

And kids
Being sent to class

Learning
Green is what lasts

As we eat
We raise a glass

While somewhere
A cow eats green grass

Overpopulated and overgrown
Do the farmers farm too fast?

On this roof
Where its hot and breezy
Work seems small
And life seems easy

It is funny
You know
When I write a poem
I go
The body writes itself
Not the title though

The taste
Of coffee
So fresh
So new
A rush
A flow
Down it goes
And up I float
In my brain
A different way
Pulling
Pounding creativity
On a page

This page

I look at him
Illuminated  by the dim yellow glow
of warm lamplight

He smiles
reclined and comfortable
in the chair of my youth

His rough unshaven face
carries the lines
of a million good times

His warmth makes
the slightly tattered furniture
look better, more comfortable

He stays up late into the night
telling worn old jokes
still funny

He basks in the love of his family
come to see him
and is warmed

I am carried back
carried to my place
in that chair

Loved and protected
rough whiskers on my skin
always safe with him

Sitting in that chair
always with a laugh
always with a smile

Now the oxygen tube snakes
'round his neck
while he tells stories

But his laugh
is still deep
and loud

The hour is late
and I drink his fine whiskey
that he no longer can

I look deeply
into his sparkling eyes
and know that he will die

But not when he can laugh
and still feel
like a child

I try to write
But my words
Stumble and trip
Drunk within my brain
The stairway to my pen
So steep and treacherous
That they dare not tumble down them
Lest they be broken and ruined by the fall
So they stay deep within the den of my brain
In inebriated silence
While my muse
Drinks a bottle of wine

Because there are no sides and
It doesn't matter what you believe
Or who you are
There is no left or right
We are all feel the same
Maybe a little broken
Or flawed or angry
It is a respite and relief from pain
It is spoken from the soul and to the soul
And it is the only time
That I can be fully human