the last day…

the last day

so much easier
to sleep
when the rumble
of death’s traffic
is further
down the road
the occasional
flickers of light
through windows
like the passing of friends
serve as a reminder
but only disrupt
the social slumber
ever so slightly
but
now
sounds grow stronger
each night
as if
life
has detoured
death
closer to my door
vibrating
and
loosing thoughts
once firmly placed
on memory’s shelf
creating
belief’s disarray
and
dusty fears
that make it
hard to sleep
as if
repose
is
a waste
of time

right–not your fault…

righ-not your fault

tearful eyes
staring back
at yesterday
as if
an apology
should be offered
refusing
to accept
any responsibility
for behaviors
instead
claiming
to have been
coerced
or
worse yet
a mere puppet
of fate
now
on bended knees
offering up prayers
for tomorrow
with the same
conviction
to responsibility
as had
for
yesterday

discoverers’ day …

discoverers' day

the brown bag prophet
said
i see
chistopher columbus
has fallen from favor
political correctness
after hundreds
of years
this nation
has finally
figured out
that celebrating the life
of someone responsible
for crimes
against humanity
should not be
uniquely celebrated
instead
they’ve created a holiday
when
all
the war criminals
can be lauded
such sympathetic thinking
is beyond
pathetic

no es facil…

no es facil

aunt bea
always says grace
before eating
even if its
some takeout
that i dropped-off
on my way home
from work
she told me
there were times
when
there wasn’t much
on the table
but
family and friends
would stop by for dinner
everyone brought
something
a rabbit
or possum
an uncle had caught
cooked by his wife
some greens and corn
harvested by others
and
the occasional
bottle of whiskey
given as gift
from a wealthy employer
for
house cleaning
well done
and
even though
it wasn’t as much
as some folks had
everyone left
with
a full helping of love

evergreen…

evergreen

always
looking the same
as if
life eternal
each
branch populated
like a city street
or village
but
the ground
is littered
with the graves
of those
who spent
their lives
in service
of the illusion
of a world
changing
but
unchanged

autocatalysis…

autocatalysis

bapa dola said
there was a man
who built a strong dam
to water his grass fields
the fields grew beyond
his greatest expectations
when harvested for sale
he could find no buyers
since all the livestock downstream
had died of thirst