loving, burnt…

hiding their own fearsand insecurities.it’s not the color of skin,but the color of a man’s heart.it’s not religious beliefs,or sexual orientation,but the basic humanity of all men!

in a bottomless well?must we wait on the wave,that’s long past due?will the candle then light itself?do trees remember leaves?does history have a face?is it then yours?

and vacant buildings….through the alleyways..concrete graveyards…the hint of smoke hangsin the air…. the stain of soot,the taste of death… lingers….i closed my eyes and sawthe bodies… strewn in the streetlike trash blown against a fence…eyes wild, faces contorted, …death, and it’s brothers and sisters…storefronts dark and ominous,gas pumps stand alone like angrysores, oozing into the…

my wife’s tears fall like thunderto an empty bowli have nothing to buy with,nothing to trade, nowhere to beg,and nothing to stealthe baby’s sick, there’s nothingi can do except watch her diein her momma’s nothing armshungry, and hopelessnothing i can do.

and all signs of life,leave branch and nook,as beauty is revealed.the weathered branchstirred by the wind,scratches against my chest.sunlight weeps while shadows play,and the sap drips with want.the tongue of desirewrapped around the balls of longing,the dialogue of touching begins!and winter’s snows wait in perfect awe,as the birds begin their flight south!

and its ability to beeffective when it becamea secluded form, wrappedin the academic world,shaped by form and vagueimages and intricate patterns.but there have always beenthose who walked a differentpath, who dared!for poetry to again reachthe hearts of the masses, wehave to speak their language!we have to use images andexperiences that the commonman and woman both…