Similar Posts
how many Jesus’ babies
we wake up to the factthat all life is sacred?how many dead bodieswearing God’s face?how many hands holding the gun,how many hands on the shovel…all God’s hands!
i keep watching
with unspoken living,trembling on their lips.truth…demands an audience!the silent screamsof mountains and rivers defiled.even the trees whisper,the sad hurt of poverty.the wind cries of justice,in the empty rooms of god.do you tire of this flame?wish i’d go away?give it time,even my footprints will disappear.trees will fall,mountains will crumble.and the oil raped riverswill stink of death.hungry…
poets walkin’ outside the law,spewing bloodstained words,painting the picture they see,they feel, they live…talkin’ truth in the ageof propaganda…holding the raw, beating heartsof those in need…with trembling hands,and jaws set firm….standing in the face of the roar,fighting against all odds.outlaw poetry?hell no! outlaw ignorance!
i too oft kissed compassionon the cheek…betraying my conscienceto feed my hungers…too oft dug shallow gravesin my haste to keep going….too oft took a sip of water,and poured the rest on the ground….too oft crossed myself,gave a couple dollars to a begger,but kept some back for myself….too oft looked into the eyes of need,and only…
a poet is only an ear,
becomes less,when he has a name,even less a title.the best lay downtheir pens andpick up shovels,turning the earth instillness, season by season.open the windowsand doors to the heart,and sweep out the trash.leaving gifts for the soul,the tiny droppings of birds,that just took flight…a small mound of ashes,a tiny wisp of smoke!the imprint of a kisson…
if you want to know
look at how you spend your time,what you expend your energy on,how you react to people around you,and whether you take the time to listen.not what you say, what you do!