often the beaten path…

often the beaten path...

wrapped
in a blanket
of
self-pity
an old man
struggled to roll
his wheelchair
through
the grounds
of
a hawaiian garden
his discontent
blinded him
to
all the beauty
around him
beside
one small path
there was
an ancient grave
undisturbed
by
vacationers
or
world progress
with
an inscription
that
simply read
be happy with what
you
can do

is there something missing…

is there something missing

have you found
your
dried tears
or
have they been
caught up
in the winds
of
time
circling
above
your tomorrows
but
falling
today
to blind you
like
an ocean fog
to
where
you are
or
could be

gnarled old trees…

been
rooted
in the broken promises
of
freedom
for
over two hundred years
so
it should be of no surprise
that
we have grown
roughened
in
our views
of
the future
and
misshapen
in
our attitudes
for
hope
and
justice
in
this nation
oh
when we were young
we could
easily bend
and
not break
when
the winds
of
ignorance and hate
forced
us toward the ground
then
we would rebound
and
once again
grasp at the sky
but
now days
we refuse to bend
nor
do we have to
we have
an outside
that has grown hardened
and
an inside
having knotty memories
of
the pain
of
our lifetimes
we have
grown
and
survived
like
african mahogany

 

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

 

driving instructions…

like
a child
staring out
the back window
of
their parent’s car
we pine
for
what was
as if
it were
really
as wonderful
as we
imagine
we forget
the arguments
and
incidences
that
ended with
our
early depature
declaring
that
we’ll
never return
to
this god forsaken place
or
talk to
this
persona of satan
ever again
yet
when we are
isolated
from reality
we embellish
the few morsels
of
joy
we had
creating
a fictionalized historical event
probably
as truthful as
most history
where the good guys
always win
and
the damsel in distress
is
a kung fu master
seems
we’re always
looking
for
the rationale
for
events
how do they
fit
into
the plan
and
purpose
of
life
well
this might surprise you
but
there is no
real purpose
nothing’s been
ordained
your empty minutes
and
hours
are controlled
by
no god
or
saint
it’s you
staring out the back window
instead
of
looking at
where
you’re driving to

 

when in interlude of darkness..

if
you
feel like
you’re crawling
through
mud
with
rancid water
soaking
your clothes
and
the weight
of
progress poverty
pressing
you further
into
the mire
of
inequity
you must
still
continue
the fight
for
social justice
but
each time
you grow weary
focus
on what you do have
those
loving hands
that
reach out for you
those
words
of kindness
and
appreciation
for
all you’ve done
and
those tearful eyes
that
look to you
for
what
you will
do

 

not that anyone asked…

ain’t gonna be
famous
nobody’s gonna
remember
my name
past my funeral
but that’s
not gonna stop me
from
being
me
now i know
some will say
i’m an old fool
for
doing things for free
when
i could charge
but
i
don’t particularly
prescribe
to
all the new
american tenets
of
behavior
i still believe
in
being a good neighbor
and
friendly towards
most folks
you were right
to
pick up on the
most folks
part
see
some people
are
just plain evil
i don’t blame
the devil
bad parents
or
hard times
they’re just
plain
evil
and even
they
can’t stop me
from
being me
what about you
can you
be
you