Layback

Bathing

Bathing in the silence

Of

Morning

Washing in

The cool air of spring

The birds

Will awake soon

But for now

All is quite!

Sometimes

I wonder

How the birds

Are still singing

At all?

For

The world

Is covered in hatred

Wars drag on

With no end in sight!

It seems

People have become

Numb to

The death and destruction

Of it all!

Sometimes

I wonder if the birds still sing

In these

War torn lands

Or

Do they sit silent

Waiting for it all to end?

Not much has changed

In my lifetime

Two days after my birth

Firehouses were turned on

Crowds fighting for equality

Down the street

From the hospital

I laid in!

Not long after

The Gainesville Eight

Would go on trial

And

Become the anti-war

Talk of the town!

Vietnam and race relations

At that time

Had reached

The boiling point

In the melting pot country  

I was just dropped into!

Yes

Not much has changed

In the last 45 years

In this crumbling world of ours

A place where

Mass shootings

Bombings

And

Killings in general

Happen so frequent

It seems like

Only a few days pass

Or

Maybe even week

Before the next tragedy

Comes!

When will it ever end?

Amazingly

For now

The birds are still singing

Or

At least they will be

As soon as the morning sun

Climbs high

In the eastern sky

 

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

My People

My people

Could have come straight

From

A Faulkner novel

The generations that came

Before me

Were rugged

Denim wearing folks

Logging timber out

Of

Florida’s backwater swamps

Making moonshine

In the Appalachian Foothills

Sitting up all night

With the dead

Before laying them to rest

In the sandy soil of small-town

Southern cemeteries

Shaded with cedars

And

Longleaf pines!

My people were  

Truck drivers

Farmers

Factory workers

War heroes

Parolees

And

Preachers

They doctored themselves

Because

They couldn’t afford

Going

To a doctor

Or the medicine prescribed

Afterwards!

They clotted

Bleeding wounds

With spider webs

Drew poison out

With tobacco

Relieved toothaches

With honey

And

Chest colds

With camphor tree leaves!   

Yes

My people could’ve come

From a Faulkner Novel

Or

Maybe something

Flannery dreamed up! 

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

The Written Word

Writing for me

At times

Is like

My heart falling out

Of

My chest

And

Onto the page before me

Then my pen

Rearranging it into words

Into sentences

Into understanding

Why it fell out to begin with!

All

So I can move forward

Scoop it up

Place it back in my soul

And

Love once again

Yes

My written words

Become the sutures

That hold me

Together!

Wrapping around

My very existence

So even I

Will take a chance

And

Love once again

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Dreams The Cat

Falling Inside

It seems people

Are

Falling inside themselves

These days

Totally collapsing within

Protecting their souls from

The roaming Jackals

Who are only taking

Never giving

Yes, yes, yes!

I’m sure

As soon as you read this

You thought, I give!

But this poem

Is about the world

As a whole

Not the few folks that are

Doing their best

To help humanity

And

They, you, I

Do make

The world better

Than what it would be

If we didn’t care!

Yes

The Venus Fly Traps

Are

Waiting for you

To land in a conversation

With them

Then they’ll close their lids

Biting down to crush you

To consume you

With their negative energy!

I wonder at times

If it’s with in human nature

To feed

On the kindness of others?

To feast on the weak?

Then some days

I don’t ponder

This question at all!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Grace O’Malley

Grace O’Malley  

Oh

How I love

Your story

Your fight!

With a sword in each hand

You gazed

Across the blue water sea

The trade winds

And

High tides

Were your almanac 

Your Eyes

Watched for years

The cresting waves

Surrounding your homeland

Of

Ireland

Of

Clew Bay

Of

Clare Island

Grace O’Malley

Queen of the Irish Sea

The Gaelic Warrior 

Musket blast blazing

Fire dancing in your eyes

The love for your people

Was

Never ending

Your Lads

Your Lassies

You fought till the end

Never bowing

Before her majesty

Grace O’Malley

Oh

How I love

Your story

Your fight!

Grace O’Malley

Queen of the Irish Sea

From My Book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

The Moon Over You

High above

In the midnight sky

I gazed upon

An orange colored moon

It was surrounded

By

An army of elephants

Made of

Smoke and fog

They were locked

Together

Trunk to tail

Tail to trunk

As they marched in their

Foggy formation 

What a beautiful

Sight to see

Tonight

These shapes

Taking form

In the heavens above!

Our imagination

Is

The untamed Angel

Living within us all

Wanting

Nothing more than

To create

To express

So

Take the time

To look up in the sky

Gaze upon the heavens

The planets

The Constellations

Orion

Bootes 

The Dippers

And

The two faces of Gemini

All the star families

Sparkling

Like signal fires from God

Really

Stop and look at them!!!

Then ask yourself

When was

The last time you did?

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave 

Sirens

Sirens scream in the

Distance

Out there

In the cold darkness

Speeding through the night

With

The almost dead!

Nowadays

Some folks

Scream just as loud

From their favorite 

Internet soap box

Repeating all

They hear

They see

As actual absolute fact!

In time

Their words will become

Just as dead

And

Lifeless

As the ones

Lying on a gurney

Riding in the death wagon

With year round

Christmas Lights

Flashing on top

Click and share

Click and share

Meaningless Memes may

Just be

Boring the world to death!

Misinformation passed off

As truth

Zombies

Fed by the machine

By

Advertisements

Corporate feeding tubes

Slid with love

Into our self-conscious

Then before

You know it

Their words

Their thoughts

Are being spoken

Into a microphone

In your hands!

But remember

The internet is a platform

That is easy

To stumble and fall from

It’s a tool for information

For communication

The problem is

It becomes flooded

With so much deception

It’s hard to decipher

What is what?

So be careful

What you read

What you repeat

Ask yourself

If I am doing the shouting

What war am I fighting for?

Because

If you’re only fighting

Within the safety

Of

Your castle walls

Shouting to your family

Your friends

And

Your post

Show up only

On their walls

It’s not much of a battle!

Yes

Stand for something

But

Make sure you’re standing

In the storm you’re wanting

To change

Not

Looking out the window

At it!

Dive into the sea

Of

What you feel is wrong

With the world!

Risk something!

It would be better

To

Drown fighting the undertone

Of

Something you hate

Than to stand on the shoreline

Comfortably skipping stones

Across its surface

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Cancer

My mother has cancer

She told me yesterday

Now it’s a waiting game

But somehow

The word, “game”

Does not fit

With the words

In this poem

Or

The thoughts racing

Through my mind!

For

The nurse is getting ready

To push needles

Into my mother’s veins 

The surgeon

Is gathering his tools

To cut on the body

That once gave me life

That held me for 9 months

Felt me kick inside it!

Then comes

The weeks of

Radiation waves

Burns and blisters

My mother’s skin tissue

Will look like it was dipped

In nuclear run off

From Chernobyl

Or Fukushima

She will feel like

A thousand ants are

Crawling and biting

Under her skin

And

A thousand Bees

Stinging its surface!

Whatever the future

Might be?

My mother

Will suffer

And

There is nothing

I can do to stop it!

Helpless

I feel as I wait

As she waits

As we all wait

Not knowing

What will come?

Yet

At the same time

Knowing with all certainty

What eventually will!

None of this is an easy place

To be!

Not for her

Not for me

But

Sometimes the tools

You need

Tool survive the hard times  

Are right in front of you

You just have to look!

Three weeks before my mother

Was diagnosed

I ordered

Susan Sontag’s Masterpiece

“Illness As Metaphor”

The book arrived two days

After

My mother told me

She was ill 

The irony in this

Was not lost on me

For

My mother

Was living

With death living off her

She was the host

It was the unwelcome guest

She never knew was there!

Weeks earlier

One night

Flipping through channels

I came across

A documentary on Susan Sontag

Her own battle with cancer

And

The book she wrote about

This horrible disease

I was taken by Sontag’s fight

Her will

To beat impossible odds

So

I ordered her book

Not knowing at the time

It was a tool

Sent by the Gods

By angels

By the Stars

By the universe 

Words to give me guidance

Words to hold onto

While holding my mother

And

Facing each day

I have

With her!

Seeing each moment

As precious moments

That undoubtedly

One day will end

But for now to

Cherish these

Blocks of time

That are given to me! 

For

We only have so many days

In this world

And

We have even less

With the ones

Who’ve brought us into it!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Fentanyl

I saw a women

Yesterday

Running naked

Across a hotel balcony

High as a kite

She was

Or

Seemed to be

I don’t think Fentanyl

Was to blame

But

She was on something!

Drugs are everywhere

These days

And

Fentanyl

Or

As it’s known on the street

China White

Is

Fast becoming

An epidemic!  

Like Tetanus

Hidden within

The

Poison dart

Rust covered nail

That scratches you

Fentanyl is hidden

Within street smack!

Brown Dope

Now has

This unseen punch

Of

Pure poisoned pleasure!

It’s killing the ones

That choose

To spike their arms

With a needle

And

Push down the plunger

Moms

Dads

Boys and girls 

Age

Wealth

Sex

Race

Poverty or providence

It kills indiscriminately!  

And

When an addict drops dead

All the others

Are draw to that batch

Like night bugs swarming

A streetlight

Believing if they survive

It will be the best high yet 

So

If you kiss China’s lips

It might be your

Last kiss

Kissing this life

Goodbye!  

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave