2020 #26

She’ll love you, with eyes so bright. You will realise your hunger and your curse. As you walk through this world.

Today they are burning down the streets. The changing of the guards is still incomplete…

And I know, I know, it’s easy once you’ve been burned, to turn your face to the cold and blame your long time family curse, and I know it hurts….

But look around dear, how many of us, really feel anything, anymore around here?

I loved you like the first, I loved you with my best…

She’ll love you, she’ll pull you in…out in the open fields…

You can’t box her in…

She’s anger, she’s fists, she’s fire, she’s all woman…but she breaks so easily…she’s scared of the reality of being…

She changed her mind

And disappeared like smoke

All you can do is hope

She felt your heart next to hers

Now let her go

Turn your face to the sun

And don’t you turn cold

2020 #17

My dear,

My darling,

I’ve been carrying this weight…this image…of a future.

I always

Have a flare up when I feel something like this move through me…

Bobby Kennedy was assassinated on this June day 1968

I think it’s like James Baldwin said…

We easily forget how young everyone was then…

He met with Lorraine Hansberry and Baldwin in 1963

Author of raisin in the sun

Kennedy was only 38.

Lorraine would of course die at the age of 34… and Kennedy would be assassinated just 5 years later at the age of 43.

The Kennedys were appalled at the living conditions of black Americans. They were young and changing their minds about things. But like James said, this was the cost of segregation, it was a Great Wall between us. You never REALLY got to know eachother.

And you didn’t feel that you had a place set for you at the table for the American dream. You were an opportunity a pawn but you were not really represented. If you rose up and talked like white men you were dangerous.

A friend of mine wrote me and reflected that same emotion. That she always pretended we were the same but she’s afraid we are really not.

It’s not a race issue

It’s an apathy issue

A distance

We don’t want to know or see or hear.

We want the horrors to stay over there.

We are all brothers and sisters

Lovers

But we are so comfortable I don’t know that we would even be moved anymore…

Maybe we really do struggle with a mental fear, while black Americans live in the reality. The reality that these horrors are daily events and just a step away.

Bobby believed

And he changed his mind

He moved in those directions.

Darling,

I’m going to be 31 this year

I’m thinking about the youthfulness of these people…

I’m thinking about their ability to hold ideas

I’m thinking about all of the people and the youth we have already lost…

I’m believing we have hope

This is home to all of us

And this is America

Hang in there.

We must face ourselves.

So we can love eternal.

Yesterday

Hold those thoughts

That keep me away

While the lights

Echo my lonely fears

In the streets tonight

——-

They say the world

Keeps changing everyday

But I wake in the night

I feel the same

——-

Maybe we’re so much older

Maybe we’re so much younger

Maybe we’ve been here before

Pour me a drink

Don’t let me go

——

The summer is coming

These clouds won’t stay so grey

We can’t live out our hopes and dreams inside yesterday’s

Chasing Sleep

I unsubscribed from the news

The internet

The perfect

places

—–

I was strutting around

Like I owned the town

When I think back on it …

Now I feel this winter in my chest

I’m humbled to know so many people that love me

I know now

You can win and you can lose

And you can do both gracefully

—-

It feels like this weight

Pushing down on me

I’m running

And I can’t stop

And there’s a ledge

I know it’s there

But I can’t stop

—–

I know you can love

I’ve seen you do it

You just choose to love me poorly….

Maybe I choose too

I hear myself say, this is who I am…I’m good at loving people

I’m good at being here with you …

But then I hear you say

This is just who you are…

And I wonder

How we have the same defense

And

How we

Left the bedroom

Look at our weapons

Hidden away

Throughout this home

This is a battlefield

—-

I used to strut around like I knew something

Now I’m humbled

I’m not sure what I know

Even about myself

I reserve the right to write what I want

I’m coming home to myself

The trees are still asleep in the morning

Your skin is soft against mine

Your eyes say good morning

Long before your lips

Two souls

Anchored together

Like ships in the water

The moon is down

I feel your light

And you are beautiful

Beautiful

I used to know

What did I know

Now

I’m just thankful

To share this space with you

I can still taste your lips

The Mill

The Bar.

“What’s up stoopid.”

Tara sat down across from me, her brown hair blocking the clock on the church across the street. Fortunately , part of the sun as well.

“What is that brain working on now? Who brings a book to a bar anyway?”

I stared. what do you want Tara?

I had to admit, it felt weird coming back home…the mills closed. Empty buildings, like coffins, waiting for their dead or a hotel with empty floors…just shadows of memory.

Tara smiled, lit a cigarette,

You know, you have to be 21 now.

Hey, we‘re all older.

She laughed.

I closed my book.

Asking myself why I came back home…but I really, already knew.

Maybe that was what bothered me.

Tara hadn’t changed that much. She had a way of moving through the weights and the hard moments. Seemingly unscathed.

I was not so lucky.

I took a breath. Feeling flashes of my childhood walking past me in the street.

The last dream you built

The last year inside the house you built

She said it’s ok if you can’t sleep

It’s just the sounds inside your head

All the stories you dread

It only takes some time

To get used to

—–

Outside

The clown goes mad

The media’s on repeat

He can’t figure out

It’s all marketing

He’s selling the future

But he’s still standing there naked

——

Inside

And up the stairs

Dylan lights a match

Stops and laughs

Says he’s about to go electric

I stop typing

And hand him another cigarette

—–

Down the street on the corner

Of lost and found

Seeking out some caffeine

Her eyes keep me at arms length

I reached in my pocket

Handed her a Honees

She smiled running her fingers through my hair

And kissed me

—-

Hendrix walks in

Sighing, asked for some help with his lyric….

—–

These times are all black and white

The youths ran away

With the color….

She cries

And says there’s no more room left to create in

I laughed

And said the sky is falling over

It’s only, the mirror…

Storms

She makes storms

Out of hours

She makes deserts

Cry out for rain

She makes winter

Pray for summer

But she’s been a friend to me

Her fist have always been Clinched

Her hair has always been red

Her lips have always been red

She’s the realest thing

I’ve ever known

And I’d stand

Out every winter

Just hoping for a look from her

She keeps me happy

And she went down to New Orleans

And bewitched the devil

And she fights

The ghost

She loves the most

But you might not see it

And her fist

Have always been Clinched

And

She’s always been red

But she’s always been real

To me

(Written and performed tonight at 33)

Morning youth

I wake up to the morning sky

Foggy

Overcast

Thick

Of memory

Grey and lit with shadows

Overcast dreams

Nightmares

Of wrong and write

I see the light

And tell myself everything is O.K.

Get up

Come on up

Didn’t they tell you

History is written

Remembered

By those who win?

These fading chords

Bleeding ink

Words on paper

Are just tomorrow’s memory

Did you read between the lines?

The love letters in the margins?

“Will you remember me?”

“Not like I used to…”

Come on up

The cards have been dealt

I pour my tea

I sit and write

Here inside

The morning light….

The Ballad of Anne Hall

Anne Hall

Hear her call

She lives in the RV at the end of it all

5 little ones

Everyone knows she just can’t feed anymore

If houses are homes

Well hers

it’s coming down

And winter it keeps coming

But summer is hell

But they kept saying

Anne you can have it all

If you just clean up a little

Smile a little more

And Anne

She keeps praying

She keeps praying that her kids just won’t wake up to this anymore.

The rain was thundering

The lightning crashing

Like a ship breaking through a shore

A tornado

Like the finger of god

Scorched the earth across town

Everyone’s eyes were blind

The hunger

Was passed off

As crazy

eyes of Anne

Until

One night

The rain thundered down

She came to the Emergency

The blood ran down

Like the rain against the windows of everyone’s white washed streets

Anne prayed don’t let me have another mouth to feed

And everyone met again

At the square

Now Anne

doesn’t have a dollar to pay for her pills or her bills

And Anne couldn’t make the trip

Anne Hall

Hear her call

The day they put Anne in the ground

At the back of the gate

the council met

Behind doors that locked

And children with filled stomachs

Tucked away in their beds

and a hard rain fell

It fell

And in the emergency

A new mother cries …

And even today

Everyone is quiet when they pass by

Where there was an RV at the end of it all…