the road to pain…

with
stones of doubt
stuffed
into a backpack
the journey
begins
emotions
on
uneven footing
at first
there’s
a willingness
to
step over
shattered expectations
then
comes
compromising
on
the path
to
be taken
traveling
in
darkness
instead
of
the light
small clearings
from
chaos
give a false sense
of
hope
but
soon
brambles
of
hate and injustice
narrow
the aimless course
days
become nights
nights
become sadness
sadness
becomes
an eternity

 

ciudad santuario…

sassy little city
ain’t listening
to
nobody
dressing
as
she pleases
got
million of hearts
so
never misses
a beat
dares
to speak
in
tongues
without
any damn
divine inspiration
or
apology
to
xenophobic zealots
that
refuse
rights
to others
in
their stolen land
so she
lifts up her skirt
to give
the oppressed
someplace
to
hid
never revealing
where
or
how
they arrived
she merely
smiles
and
walks away
then
pulls
the curtain
of
night
leaving
the fools
sitting alone
in
the dark

 

ain’t got time to meditate…

now
i
certainly appreciate
all
the heartfelt
words-to-the-wise
we’ve
been having
about
the benefits
of
daily contemplation
learning
to
deliberate
on
the moment
and
not
project
into
the future
or
woller
in
yesterday’s mud
but
when you’re
just trying
to
survive
the day
then
pausing
to
smell the roses
ain’t
an option
nor
is there
any respite
to
look
towards
tomorrow
tomorrow
isn’t a consideration
and
when you don’t
look
to tomorrow
hope
becomes
a useless
vocabulary word

 

exacerbated sadness…

have you found life’s key
one that unlocks happiness
or thought you lost it
while satisfying others
look again it’s in your hands

 

just a simple question…

how many bodies
must line the street where you live
before you question
what has been or has not been
done to heal a nation’s wounds