If for this plaintive howl.
If for the space between
Sound and echo,
Between long night
And the break of dawn.
If for this purpose,
Be it great or small.
If for this name
None else can bear.
If for this turn, this tilt,
This fall.
If for the time of shedding.
If for this call, this haunt,
This storm…
If for the taste of blood,
On lips a’ quiver.
If for this page,
Unwritten, unread.
If for the final break.
Then, so be it!
on the tracks again,no whistle, no train.sit down and stand,occupy your rights.you gotta be honestto join the fight.black man, white man,your blood colored red.throw down your anger,forgive and forget.the time of the end,or the time of change.freedom’s never wonwithout forgiveness and pain…the soul of the callousesthe hands of those that worked…dignity definedby the sweat and…
green beans… waitingon the storm.wind whips through the trees,a streak of lightning, occasionalthunder… breaking beans.thinking about my grandparents,working down at the mill…farming, grew four gardens…cows, pigs, chickens, andturkeys…no one ever went hungrythere… no one around themwent hungry…there was always food to eat,and work to be done….but that day has come and gone….now we work on…
the church was empty,no cars in the parking lot.the hand on the door,seemed familiar, but not.the voice in the casket,both grey, and cold.the mind packed boxes,fingers buttoned and unbuttoned.the candle fell from the table,unlit and unnoticed.even god was distant,and the tide failed to come in….the man stood up and walked out,never to return!
the homeless leave in the snow.burnt out Marlboro fingersshaking with the cold…small children’s big eyes screamingwith silent stinking fear!and the halls and the wallsof the traders vibrate with smoke…nothing gained, nothing lost,in the land of nothing….my grandmother’s Bible lays bythe stove that was never empty…my father sits and stares at the walls,listening for the echo…
too much sunshine,not enough rain.too many guests,not enough servers.too much joy,not enough pain!too many votes,not enough justice.too many hungry,not enough giving.too many angry,not enough involvement.too much taking,not enough living!too many shovels,not enough hands.too many lovers,not enough love.too many liars,not enough truth.too many too little,still not enough!
in their battered old car…half a tank of gas,and nowhere to go…and something inside you shudders,can you feel your hands on the wheel…do you then cry the tearsthey’re too beaten to cry?
