can’t carry a tune in a bucket…

the brown bag prophet
was humming
a little tune
as i walked by
i said
that’s an interesting song
he said
it’s my version
of
wade in the water
but
you probably couldn’t recognize it
seems
like
i’ve always been singing
out of tune
guess
i’m not one to harmonize
to
the chorus
of
social expectations
nor
to clap my hands
to the beat
of others
preferring
an off cadence
of course
leaving the close-order drill
to success
results
in some failures
so
my
failures
were
my own fault
as
a number of folks
have been quick
to point out
to me
saying
you should have seen that coming
i did
but
chose
not to compromise
who
i believed myself to be
in order
to leave
parts of my soul
spread across
a lifetime’s journey
as
breadcrumbs
to follow back
from
society’s definition of success
to
where
my identity
still
resides

 

american marionette…

putin’s puppet
dances
on
strings
of
lies
and
alibis
and
without
a backbone
it’s
quick
to blame
others
for
all
its missteps
but
alas
unlike
the puppet
who dances
bebop
when
his
master
gets up
and
leaves
it
cannot
stand
alone
so
falls flat
upon its face
whimpering 
in the night
tweet
tweet
tweet

garage sale…

i have several
items
for sale
most
have not
been touched
in seven
or
more years
so
should have been
tossed out
according to authorities
on personal clutter
but
i’ve had them
neatly stored
in containers
some
in boxes
requiring dusting
others
in
old photo graphs
with
minor
moisture damage
there’s
even a few
cassettes
of
music
for young lovers
and
although
i’m unwilling
to throw them away
i’m more
than willing
to share
these
old memories
at
bargain prices

from a mighty fortress…

tell me
what time
will
the angels
of god
descend
from behind
the walls of jericho
and
save this world
from
mankind
taking up
into their arms
a child
of
god
a child
to be given
new life
when
will they arrive
and shall that be
the time
when
the saints
join in song
filling the air
like a thousand
black birds
whirling
above the sadness
we’ve known
for all
too long
when
oh
when
will the angels
arrive
making
the earth
truly
alive

Poem Inspired by Spritual Standards Quinta: Markus Burger (Piano) & Jan Von Klewitz (Saxophone)

Background Music:  A Mighty Fortress is Our God

songs in the night…

songs in the night

there were
no reasons
to sing
but
amal
sang the song
that
his parents
had taught him
as a child
amal the smart
his hair is fair and tidy
whoever loves you will kiss you
he paused
as
he placed
the last stone
on their grave
but whoever hates you
will have problems
he turned
and
walked
away
no longer
a child of ten
but
an old man
of war
singing
sleep
sleep
i wish
i could
have offered you
a dove

going home…

Public Domain: 7th Seaforth Highlanders, 15th (Scottish) Division

Public Domain: 7th Seaforth Highlanders, 15th (Scottish) Division

let not the pipes
sing out again
for one
so young
as you
let not the pipes
sing out again
for sons
daughters
and friends
let not the pipes
sing out again
for war’s
fallen
children
let not the pipes
sing out again
to bring
bodies
homeward
let not the pipes
sing out again
oh god
please not
again