At 2am, sleep is like a stranger I see on a street in my hometown I recognize her face But before I can ask where I know her from She darts across the lanes of traffic Around a corner And disappears The cars speed by Blocking my path And through the side windows As they pass I see An old friend Charlie Sheen A guy from work I need to talk to The cars keep moving And the light never changes The countdown - 25, 24, 23, 25, 24, 23 I step out anyway And the road is sticky My shoes barely move And the cars keep coming Each one with a familiar occupant A homeless man I saw yesterday My grandkids My daughter's boyfriend Two nuns with a Buddhist monk Lao Tzu and Robin Williams A guy from work I need to talk to He must be circling the block The parade of cars keeps coming I see a slight break in the traffic So I sprint across the street in pursuit But when I round the corner I'm in my back yard With weeds that need pulling I step into my house through the back door And see the cabinets that need painting And my laptop With the emails that need answering There's a knock on the front door The dog barks He hears a noise in the night I realize I've been dreaming With my eyes open to the darkness It's 2:12am Twelve minutes passed Like cars on a country road And in the distance I see her hitch hiking Brake lights glare, hurting my eyes Sleep gets in the back seat And the car speeds off Into the night As I stand along the road Waiting in the dark For the first light of morning
Category: politics
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cars on a country road
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declaration
There is a feeling that washes over me like a dry wind through the foothills bringing a hint of a distant fire. Independence is a worn ideal based on might and threat, bombs, bursting in air to bring fear. That once distant fire is now ubiquitous, burning in the hearts of the many yet never consuming the desire. Freedom is a tattered belief, held before multinational corporations dealt in the dependence of all for one. There is a feeling that washes over me, that only with change can freedom come like a summer rain that carries no threats. Cooperation is a missing component of many foreign affairs in disarray with the foolish notion of control. The rockets red glare is frightening, making the dog run under the bed and the cat wisely hide in the shadows. Peace is deemed a futile hope unless the thought of war remains in the consciousness of the poor. There is a feeling that washes over me, perhaps bringing the winds of change if we choose to declare Interdependence.
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just one thing
politics, a tempest in a teacup. most of us couldn't care less whether the GOP, DNC, Left, Right, Libertarian or Vegetarian win or lose. main street to dirt roads average joe and plain jane we all want just one thing from politicians. DO YOUR DAMN JOBS!
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an open window
After 50 years of evangelical prison and two years of freedom I can finally see the sun warms my face No more supposed to's and guilty penance for wrongs done in my life and somehow before Religion is the filthy rag trying to wipe clean a clear window leaving streaks of confusion Doing right, because it's right doing good, because it's good being love, because of love we don't need sermons or books to tell us this We can all see theology won't help you religion won't make it more clear just open the window and crawl through
pop's poetry 