not made of modern technology,
not built out of political jargon,
or religious zeal…
this bridge is dialogue.
only the naked and honest may cross!
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right and wrong,
moral implications,immoral men.ignorance and pride,hearts restrained by fear.the hammer of judgement,hands buried in pockets!do we fly?or watch pictures of flight?do we care?or live by token gestures?do we pray?or recite mechanical cures?do we live?or exist behind walls?choices, or destiny?truth, or salvation?gods carved in stone,cannot weep for the poor.and the stranger we meet,smells like something we’ve lost.choices,…
looked into your mother’s eyesin that special way….i loved you!before the stones were hauledto build mighty Rome…i loved you!before the fire was first litin that long lost cave…i loved you!before our ancestorscrawled up on the shore…i loved you!before land and seawere seperate entities….i loved you!before day and night,when light and darkness were one…i loved you!and…
it’s easy to bury the pen,
that held the light.will you then burn the book,and wipe your shoes at the door?is it easy to forget the address?some graves are best unmarked you say…let the preacher say a few words.and it’s back to home and the dinner dishes,things that must be done.what’s too painful we walk away from,and name our victories by…
shots ring out in the middle
tires squeal, a body falls.the shades are drawn, betterturn out the lights…9-1-1, nobody callsold woman lyingin a pool of blood,her check is gone, check long gone…crackin, crankin,swept away by the floodyou’re all alone, all alone…there are bars on the windowsthere are locks on the doorsyoung kids dying in the alleysdont know what they’re dying forno…
i am nothing more
sharing table scrapsthrown out by the rich,with mongrel dogs…barking and howling,and peeing on dreams,in the alleys of the soul.a blind plumberfixing the leaks,for a cola and a can of beans.an old man sipping brandywith tired ghosts,a child left alonewith discovery!i am the hand you reach for,the face you cannot understand.the tear you buriedon your angry…
we march together….
the sick and the hungry.the victims of poverty,racism, discrimination, and abuse.black skin, white skin, brown skin all…people of all nationalities and languages,male and female, straight and gay.people of all religions, doubters and atheists.those who’ve been imprisoned,or who’ve been used up and spit outby the system.young and old, with families and alone,angry, honest, forgiving, demanding…the chosen…