Shadow Sky.

Shadow Sky

Writing with my head

Tilted to the sky

I long for the freedom

Of cuba

I long for the rejoice

Of a nation that has

Been setback

Because of

Hatred spewed

Forth

From bitter lungs

That triumph across broken

Pages of beaten down

Gum drops foreign

To domestic lies

And truths hidden

In the front page

News

For all

To see

Long-Lasting.

Long Lasting

The foulness of the air

Is greatly seeking

Destiny from triumph

Last redemption

Moving temperament

Bombardment jordans

Shoes long lasting

I found you among all

That rubble

In the dampness you seek

Shattered tattered

Hope-filled love

Beauty seeks truth

I defy truth

No one listens.

Waters most foul.

Destiny is not there

For the taking.

Justice is movement

Incongruent justice.

I don't want to lose you, my love.

I don’t want to lose you,

My love.

You who wanders in my life

Like a fish on the sea.

You who are great in your

Vastness; who is missing

In my arms.

I don’t want to lose your light,

Or the tender way you hold me close;

Just like a tender thought,

Just like something that once

Held its breath.

The rhythm is in the waves

Of the sea.

The ocean mocks my sorrow;

For you are the only one I love,

Not the ocean.

The ocean and the sea are mocking.

I do not hold onto the night.

It is dead and gone.

Tenderly, I weep; like shadows

Thrown in sorrow.

I keep your heart near me.

It is the end to all things.

The beginning and the end,

Everything is near.

Frequently I wait for your decision,

Because I beg for your affection.

Oh bitterly I weep like a surrounding

Forest, the meadow has not fallen.

She thinks she knows me.

She does not know.

The light wanders in the night

Like a lone seal,

Thrown out to sea like a lamb.

I don’t want to lose what love

I have.

I Remember You In Darkness.

I Remember You In Darkness

The moon is looking down on me like

A flash of silver in the night.  Darkness comes,

Setting on all fours.  The movement of the water

In the stillness.  I am grateful for the time I spent

With the wolves in the park, running with them,

Frolicking with them like a lot of bulls.

I am situated.  The moonlight is a giant piece of

Pie.  Whatever happens stays in the middle of it

Like a lava lamp.  The stress is important to the

Bitter waves of yesterday.  I saw the inner side of

Myself become reversed and form shadows.

The river flows fast as if from my heart.

The darkness is like a giant moon imbedded

Inside your soul. 

The immensity of it is vast.  Darkness is like

Your sin.

I have followed you, near and far.

Everything is dimmer than dim.

The streets fasten onto my heart and lay eggs
in my heart.

SPARTICUS.

Sparticus

Once every full moon, Sparticus comes out of

The clouds, and drops down on all fours.

He is a ghost of the moors.  His whispering is immense.

He has been waiting for someone to avenge him.

He has been waiting for a miracle.

No one knows what happened to him,

And no one knows why,

Except sometimes the police becomes

Immersed into their old files and flips

Through them, trying to piece together the

Pieces, trying to discover the clues.

Everything is right where it was when it first

Happened, everything was right where it was

After it occurred.

Some deaths cannot be explained.

The Reader.

The Reader

I would like to start out my poem by saying

That I am a reader.

All readers lead a revolt against the government,

By being informed about the world around them.

Reading helps you learn how to think.

Even educated people cannot read.

If you cannot read, you will not be able to read

Resumes.

Many bosses are illiterate.

Many workers are illiterate.

Let’s focus on the goal of disarray; by becoming

A more kindly society that is focused on kindness

And justice.

Many judges cannot read, either, and then they end

Up throwing innocent black men in jail;

They end up throwing abused wives in jail;

They end up throwing people like Nelson Mandela in jail.

When you learn how to read, a world opens up to you

That you have not perceived before; the kindness of

Friendship, the kindness of learning things from a

Different perspective.

Like I said…workers cannot spell, which can cause

People to make the same mistakes over and over

Again, and that will lead to more deaths and even

More mistakes, which could cause the entire universe

To collapse.

What is the matter with you when you can’t read?!

All Lives Matter.

All Lives Matter

Blacks

Whites

Hispanics

Asians

What is the big deal?

A human is a human

A life is a life

All lives are important

Including animals and trees and fish

We will not change until worse things

Happen

Hate is a pandemic that has

Spread throughout the

World

Hate is the biggest crime

Against nature

Hate destroys humans

One by one

It obliterates the soul

And one day we may not have

Any

Trees

At all

Going To the Ball Game.

Going To the Ball Game

You told yourself you wouldn’t do it,

That you wouldn’t buy yourself another cup of

Coffee at the café, but it was way past sunrise

And the day was just starting off. 

You told your mother you were heading out

To the ball game, with a cap slumped low over

Your eyes, and the t-shirt of the Detroit Tigers

That you got for your birthday last year.

You are going by yourself in your new Chevy,

Something you bought after you were promoted

At your job, something that changed you because

It was your first.  Some people don’t know the

Difference, but you do, and this was your first

Ball park game besides, and everything after

That was going to be gravy, but you didn’t

Want to take your video camera because you

Were sitting too high up.  Sometimes blaming others

For your mistakes can be the problem.  You get into

Your Chevy and drive three miles to the ball park,

And stand in line with your ticket, letting the wind

Run through your hair like a waiting sliver. 

Shivering.  You are cold.  By the time you get to

The ticket booth it is about four-oh-clock in the

Afternoon, and the sun is still out because it is

Spring time, but it just snowed last week because this,

This is Michigan and the weather has strange patterns.

A Bench In the Park, June 3rd, 1993

A Bench In the Park, June 3^rd, 1993

My mother, Gloria, and I were walking down

The street one evening and she commented about

How the moon looked like a giant face. 

I asked her if she wanted to continue the discussion,

And she said yes.  “What kind of face does it look

Like?”  I asked her and she pretty much said

A cookie.

I started to get hungry after that, but we had a long

Way to go and I was on a diet. 

We strolled until we came to the park.  It was

Almost 8pm but we were enjoying the scenery

And the Coca-Colas we were drinking.  It wasn’t

Even a long way back home, just three blocks. 

I saw a bat flying above me and my mother jumped

And screamed, and I laughed.  She didn’t like it. 

“Why don’t we sit on the bench over there?”  I suggested,

Pointing to it.  She agreed.  We walked over to the bench

And sat down.  It was a pretty little picture and I was so

Happy I thought I wanted to stay here forever.

Then a drunk man strolled by, smelling of cheap

Cigars.  

In Which God Laughs At My Plan.

In Which God Laughs At My Plan

I told him about my goals in the morning

Of September 12^th and I thought I heard

Him laughing at me.

He wasn’t very big about my goals.

But I just wanted to make it clear,

That there was nothing that could

Make me stop reaching them. 

Everything seemed a little out of touch

At the time, because I didn’t know where

I was going to end up, and I kept praying

And praying and nothing was coming through.

But I didn’t give up even though God kept

Laughing at me and telling me things weren’t

Going to be great, that I was wasting my time.

I didn’t think it was a waste of time.

I thought there was a spot on the horizon

That said things were going to be

Great, forever and ever.

DESTINY.

Destiny

I’ve found that destiny comes on all fours,

Especially at night when the wind moves in

The trees, and the sky is spread like a giant

Bowl above me.  Nothing else matters but hell

And high water.  Some people’s words melt

Like butter on my tongue and I think I know

But I don’t know.   My mother told me never

To gossip about anybody but that doesn’t really

Work, it doesn’t really show anything about

Anyone.  The stress is astronomical.  I know

This guy who recently got his car back and he’s

Been talking about it for months, as if the car

Is the greatest thing alive.  I didn’t think it was.

I thought sex was.  It rolls on the tongue, doesn’t it?
“That’s how we roll,” my friend said late one September

Morning as he and his family were driving down

The street in their Mercedes, watching the children

Come out of their houses and play in the streets,

Watching the dogs lick their crotches.  This is how

We play, this is how we roll, this is how we do

Anything these days, with ease, I’m guessing,

Though I don’t really know anything about that.

THE FIRST OF MARCH.

The First of March

Snow falls on the first of March.

It was warm yesterday, but seasons change

Temporarily and sometimes change back.

It is coming down hard.  The snow is white

And large and flakes all look alike. 

An old man is strolling through his garden,

Looking at all his vegetables turn into nothing

More than piles of garbage that return to

The earth.  The seasons vary in different parts of

The world, as if they know nothing of stability.

Sure they know of change.  Sure they know how

To make a grand entrance with rolling black or gray

Clouds and fierce winds that rip through your skin

Like a knife and are bitterly cold. 

The time is ripe for staying inside.  For having

Cocoa around a hot fire.  The fire is hypnotizing. 

There is a homeless man on Fifth Avenue that

Waits for a place to stay, wearing long jeans

And a winter coat.  He lost his boots last week.

Sometimes he gets visits from his mother or

His grandchildren, but they purposely stay away

And do not offer any money or any help.

It is the sad reality of life.  There is hardly any

Help besides a few dollars here and there;

And a drunken dog who follows him around

Looking for bits of food.  A lot of dogs are

Homeless, he thinks, trying to console himself

About it.  He pictures himself in a warm house.