Monday, April 18, 2011

Exiled In The Promise Land

Having left everyone
And everything
And every place
That had become dear to me,
I answered the call.
The call of the American Dream.
“Go there young man!” they said.
“Go there and find prosperity!”
“Go there young man, go there!”
“Go to the Promise Land!”
I came,
I saw,
I was disappointed
And saddened.
I found the prosperity
But I also found
The pretentiousness,
The preoccupation with
Pride,
Prestige,
Position,
And politics,
Which is poverty.

The American Dream
Has become a tragedy for all
And a nightmare for some.
The Promise Land
Has become my prison.
The chains of prosperity
Are too heavy for me to bear.
The poverty of prosperity
Is too grievous to tolerate
Or give into.

How I yearn for real honesty,
Real satisfaction,
Fulfillment,
Happiness,
Enjoyment,
Freedom.
Oh how I long to be free!
Oh how I long to be free!


Copyright 1995

Dreaming

The dreams we dream
Are windows into
The way we want to be
They give us insight and guidance
Into the direction that we should travel
Sometimes we do not listen to our dreams
Because we have been taught that they just aren’t real
So our vision slowly slips away
And we are left behind
Standing
Wandering
And slowly wasting away


Copyright 1995

Distant Memories

I was thinking of you today
As I sometimes do

Particularly on warm sunny days
With cool breezes

They remind me of us
Having lunch by the ocean

A quiet moment
Stolen from an otherwise busy day

A time to sit alone
And let the wind gently caress or faces
A gentle breeze blowing

As I marvel at the softness of your skin
And become engulfed with passion as you touch me
I tenderly stroke you face with my hand

Your ears
Your ears, around the edges and the lobes

Your neck
Your long neck, in front where it's soft and tender
And in back where it's firm and smooth as it meets you hair

Your hair
Your hair, where it's soft and curly behind your ear

I touch your nose with mine...
I outline its curves and features

And then, we kiss...
Oh how I long to kiss you more.


Copyright 1995

Daffodils

Daffodils aren’t something new,
Neither is how I love you.

Loving you is all I do,
For my love is true.

Forever more’s a long long time,
That’s how long that you’ll be mine.

Happiness is what we’ll find,
We’ll age with grace as wine.

Copyright 1995

All The Good Men Died

Why must all the good men die
While tyrants continue to reign
Why must evil men have rest
When good men suffer in pain

Love was why he came to us
With truth right by his side
It was truth that made him enemies
It was love that made him die

Unity was this man's cry
He sought it with every breath
For unity he granted freedom
For freedom he paid with death

Strength did forge his character
Our country's honor was his desire
He was hope for a brighter tomorrow
He was felled by sniper fire

Dreams were this man's fancy
Dreams of dignity and equality
In life his dreams met violence
But in death reality

Renewed hope was what he inspired
When he asked to lead our land
We would rest our future on his shoulders
His was stopped by a gunman's hand

There is no hope for our tomorrow
When only evil is the prize
There is no one to save us from sorrows
Why must all the good men die