brass kangaroos and concepts of truth…

brass-kangaroos-and-concepts-of-truth

these dreams
are not
your dreams
for mine
were
that
freedom
was more
than
an illusion
but
i
believed
the myth
hard work
dedication
honesty
would
be
recognized
and
rewarded
but
not even
my children
recall the truth
the lacquer of lies
tho
semitransparent
conceals
and
distorts
the view
of
reality
ah
but
we all hide
from
the truth
or
run from it
as though
its mirror
might reveal
what is
already
known
so
no
real
need
for denial

notes on brisbane wall…

notes-on-brisbane-wall

each person on earth
strives to proclaim that their soul
was really once here

a question of survival…

no-in-my-neighborhood

i stopped by
aunt bea’s
on the way home
from work
on friday
feeling depressed
about
congressional certification
of
what’s-his-name
expressing the same
to her
asking how
as a nation
we would survive
aunt bea
said
when your mother
and
i
would go to church
we always
sat at the back
away from
the busybodies
that shared more gossip
than
gospel
during sunday service
from there
you could see
the choirs
on
those sundays
when we had
two choirs
the senior choir
would
always
have to be
first
followed
by the youth choir
so
most folks
arrived
late
preacher
would always
delay the collection plate
until
the youth choir
had awakened
the congregation
and
got folks
amen-ing
so
the bills
could get paid
i still recall
the first time
your aunt elizabeth
sang
how great thou art
lord
even the deacons
put money
in the collection plate
that day
how
that woman
could sing
and
fortunately
for pastor
she was the head
of the youth choir
which meant
manna from heaven
when
the youth choir
was featured
every other sunday
well
i cannot
for the sake
of me
recall
why
i started telling
you
about that
oh
now i remember
how will we survive
the next few years
simple
in the hearts
and
with
the strength
of
our youths

the road behind me…

the-road-behind-me

i close
my eyes
and see
all the fireflies
from
my youth
fluttering
in the night sky
and
feel
times past
summer’s warm breeze
against
my skin
and
once again
hear
my mother’s voice
time to come in
and
with
one
final tear
i
open
my eyes

lasers in the jungle…

lasers-in-the-jungle

homeless
mother’s son
shot dead
in
la
uppity
black males
crucified
at night
by
unwhite-robed
police
on
chicago city streets
an
awkward child
with bike
taken alive
but
delivered dead
in
philly
nyc’s finest
demonstrate
the dangers
of
promoting
smoking
by
taking
a man’s
last breath
and
imminent danger
shields
the sins
of
hatred
across the nation
these
are indeed
days
of
lasers
in the jungle