I wish I was not born white; If not, I would make aware my brother’s and sister’s plight.
I was almost born dead, the umbilical was wrapped around my head.
In the womb I was almost killed with a noose; If I were black, all terror would have been loose.
The terror of birth in the womb, then straight to the tomb.
A society of population control, running toward an early grave.
A band of miscreants enthralled, voting to remain enslaved.
Seven-hundred dead in Chicago in November alone.
Massive chains dragging souls, cursed by the stone.
Change will arrive when the community is truly outraged.
Gone are the days of sympathy and pity.
Now are the days of justice and death.
You sowed the seeds of death and despair.
Black Lives Matter when there is no thought of the innocent slain in the womb.
Cursed is your generation and those after.
Fix your own house before you try to fix your neighbour’s.
- Trump’s Presidential Campaign is a ruse
- Jordan never promoted shoes
- Reading is better than watching the News
- There were no Haikus
- People never had the Blues
- We all looked, thought and felt the same
- The artist’s heart were tame
- There was no shame
- Players never played the game
- Everyone could be on the same page
- All the world is not a stage
- No one died alone in old age
- Work was not a cage
- This is not real life
- There was no such thing as strife
- I was blind
- All animals could read your mind
- Aliens are the same as our kind
- The Universe is dying
- Inventors stopped trying
- Your teachers are lying
- Alzheimer’s made you only remember the good things
- People had wings
- A Bird changes colors when it sings
- Cooking was a waste of thyme
- This post did not rhyme
Two hours until close. Smells of sweat, cigarettes and cheap cologne permeate the air. My shyness has increased in this drunken haze. Furiously I contend with thoughts of paranoia in my head as mad scribbling in a small notebook proceeds. The faces of strangers turn into gross caricatures of humanity’s ills. Stumbling through the doors for some fresh air, I pass jesters and hide in the long swirl of a cigarette. I am the Orc in the realm of Fairies and Elves. Closing time as the night envelopes in its cool, tight blanket. Home once more, the effects wear off with only memories of cowardly shyness remaining.
I had a dream that we were together laughing as when we were younger. I turned for but a moment and you were gone, or was it me. I progressed in life and heard you found a wife. Life dealt us these hands, now we must play. This game is turning into charades. The smiles and cheers on parade. I had a dream I disappeared, never to be seen again. One day it turned out to be what I feared, you stayed and I did disappear. Just recently waking from the dream, I try to figure what it all means. Turning to see you there, fear was getting the better of me. It was just a dream.
Give me a song for the memories/ Time has passed so quick I hardly realize, Yesterday I remember younger eyes sparkling in the mirror/ Life seems to have flashed like lightning/ The good times and bad mean nothing now, Just whispers in the wind/ Give me a lineman for the county, Looking for the next overload/ Give me rainy days and Mondays, Getting me down/
Give me a song full of soul/ My heart has broken needing to pour the sadness/ I thought you loved me, Only used me for money/ Give me a cheatin’ heart, will make you weep/ Give me Baby please don’t go back to New Orleans/
Songs that had meaning, not just some noise/ Y’all today don’t know, No you don’t know what good music is/ Radio pumping electronic filtered voices pushing products/ Sponsors are grinning, They know they’re winning/ Give me a song to jive, thrive/ Give me a song to bring me alive
In this enclave of acoustical cacophony
The only sound I hear is yours
In this bedazzling illumination
The only light I see is yours
In this maze of undulating bodies
The only touch I feel is yours
In this slurry of concoctions
The only mixture I taste is yours
In this aromatic atmosphere
The only pheromone I smell is yours