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

 

soliloquy of thought…

have to clear
my head
of
these empty conversations
for
there will be
no
communion
no
breaking
of
bread together
nor
sipping
of
the sacred wine
of
enlightenment
there will only be
the bitter vinegar
of
lies
thrust
into
the mouths
of
babes

 

tachypsychia…

did you know
that
blood
on
cold pavement
exhales
a
mist
as if
a
soul
is
departing
the
scene
sears
into the mind
like
acid
unforgettable
no
matter
how hard
you
try
that
body
that
soul
lies
before you
on
black pavement
as
you
await
the
ambulance
it’s
in those moments
that
death
becomes real
altering
the course
of
your thoughts
on
the
permanency
of
anything

 

no offense meant…none taken…but…

for reasons
i cannot explain
i asked
the brown bag prophet
his opinion
of
the removal
of various monuments
that
celebrated
the glorious south
he
said
if
one
can justify
statues
of
southern pride
found
offensive
to
blacks
and
others
of conscience
then
i would propose
that
we install
in every park
and
shopping mall
statues
of
native american women
being raped
by
white soldiers
and
bronze castings
of
black men
being lynched
or
with
their flesh
being
peeled off
with tar
while white-robed
good old american boys
toss feathers
or
statues
of this nation’s
starving children
eating
from
garbage bins
yes
we should celebrate
and
commemorate
all
of this nation’s
finest
moments
for
all
to see
since
no offense
is
meant