BLINDED

Stare at me,
I’ll stare back,
For what have I got to lose?
Only an honest friendship
And a thousand dreams
Had already been lost
With a blinded heart.

 

 

TRIUMPHING TURBULENT TIMES

The grasshopper leaps,
Hurdling tall blades of grass,
Plummeting towards the moist ground,
Only to spring up once more.

RIDICULUS RAMBLINGS

Whisking winds,
Passively panting,
Wandering waters.

Shining skies,
Watching waves
Mysterious whims.

Shallow shares,
Winding waters,
Turning tides.

Without warning,
Twisting tales
Wishing wants.

Emerging evergreen,
Waiting without
Your yielding.

Wanting wishes,
Turbulent turns,
Washing within.

Willing windows,
Brisk breezes
Wondering why.

Green grasses,
Wonderfully warm
Beautiful bodies.

Terrifying thunder,
Worship wonders,
Wildly working.

Worthless watches,
Sarcastic smiles,
Screaming silence.

While waiting,
Your years
Waste within.

Timeless tears,
Praising people,
Wasting waters.

Living lies,
With wonderful
Problematic perceptions.

Corrupting creative,
Cascading crescents,
Corrupting children.

 

SATAN'S CHOICE FOR PEACE

Defined in Webster's dictionary,
War is armed conflicts among nations.

In the wake, of a cold winter day,
Our world leaders, coming together,
As a united voice against war.

As each country appointee reveals,
Consequences of the decision
Concerning the fate of today's world
If there was to be a bloody war.

Under a protective umbrella,
Which shields us from our most dreaded fear.
The final judgment would affect me,
Each man, woman and child living
If there was to be no tomorrow.

At the steering wheel of all this,
Are the two super power leaders
Of the US and USSR
Having much needed support by each
Country despite its political
And its economical structures.

Laying on an old weathered park bench,
A newspaper left by someone who
Clearly only using the paper
To clean up after his dog's feces,

In accordance to the city's law.
Apparently not taking the time
To see what's going on in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

SILVER LAKE SUMMER

As moonlight's silver shimmer dissipates away,
the moaning moon moves on towards tomorrow evening.
Overcome sunshine, scrambling up the silent skyline
of an Arcadian town just west of St. Paul.
Only an hour long drive away from St. Paul,
on highway seven and just off of highway three.
Silver Lake, Minnesota arouses to sounds
of smooth murmuring loons and warm whispering winds
passively panting past paludal panorama.
Green rolling grasses grow continually and the
animals hold no animosity towards life.
The large lake's lagoon lavishes life, as valleys
vibrate vitality and huge houses surround
and dominate their own individual domains.
The sleeping sun, somberly sinks the night skyline
only to bring a night of screeching tranquility.
Chirping of night, with silver shadows from the moon
crystallize trees and turn lakes into mirrors.
I now suddenly awake to screaming silence
of a world being destroyed by what man believes
is contributions to advance society.
When it really appears to be taking off to
be a parasite on this once beautiful land.

FRIEND OR FOE?

A friend,
    holding on to your hand,
         through intimate moments
            of shared experiences

                in life...

                    ...until
                one of you,
        decide it's time to let go
    on with a separate life.

A foe,
    breaking trust between you,
        through difficult times,
            of shared experiences
                in life...

                    ...until
    
                his spiteful words,
        of bitter malice
    opened up the heavens
for a down pour of tears.

 

 

MAMA WHITE

Nigga Woman!  Nigga Woman!,
Sittin' rockin' her chair
Harvesting her sorrows,
Of her past plantation.

Tellin’ her grandchildren,
"Those were the days of prayer
workin’ til exhaustion,
and discouraging tomorrows."

"No takin' time for self."
She performed her duty,
No questions, just firmly
Responding only by "Yes Sir."

"With the fiery sun blazin' me,
My aging body ached."
But no one really cares
To hear her only say.

Lending an ear, the grandchildren
Listen impatiently,
Easily distracted,
By rustling autumn leaves.

Little does she realize that
Her grandchildren don't care
To hear stories of her
Historical past life.

"I chantin' you my life,
an' hopin' and prayin'
That you all remember,
The fight I fought for you long ago."