beyond wire fencing
chiseled bodies
sweat under new slavery’s sunshine
clanging weights fall without care
as ancient pulleys bear the brunt /
six feet stomp around the track
four laps equaling one mile
the three bronzed men
have walked 736 miles together
so far this year ~
it being only mid-July
they have a goal of 2000 a year…
no one doubts their determination
only if they can avoid segregation /
loud voices echo
as a soccer ball fly’s foul
the loudspeaker interrupts the game
as the yard closes for another day /

There's gold dust in the palms of your life
It glitters as the winds wish it away
You cannot measure the merit of a man
In bone , blood , and flesh
But by his mark made on the stones
Through the eyes of eternity

silver sphere suspended
atmospheric phenomenon
through the dark branches of an old oak
it hovers ~

arm hairs stand
magnetized and energetic
they seemingly dance along the tanned skin
weaving and braiding themselves
while a low mysterious hum
surrounds me ~

frozen in place
not with terror
but instead with molecular glue
feet became ground
rooted to the grasses and trees around me
I was one with the landscape
before instantaneously I felt
myself floating
blinded and paralyzed ~

the cold metal table had the same hue
as the silver sphere I had seen
in the sky
resting behind the old oak
that sunny afternoon
unable to hold my thoughts I considered cheese
why we ingest cow milk rotted
I thought back to hot stringy grilled cheddar
as I watched grey tubes being pulled from my body
examined by three fingered hands
and placed back inside my body cavity /
the vision is startling
I remain numb and interestedly intoxicated
as a whiskey drunkard on payday
witnessing his own appendectomy ~

flashing strobes holiday style
leave me disorientated and nauseous
beneath my brick stained hands
green shoots of grass
poke up
I puke ~

staggering and trying to orientate myself
I realize it is early morning
and I am face down in the yard
above oak branches cross
and block a shiny silver anomaly
floating in the blue sky /

electric tingle travels spinally
and I exhale a breath 17 years held
double dose gel cap
freed again through LSD ~

vibrating with bass drops
howling without control
fixated on raindrops sliding
along glass
behind the pane
wet leaves tremble /

furrows of worry smooth
deep inhalation
and memories of peaceful transgression
replace twitching eye lid
and monetary concern ~

having forgotten my old self
what a pleasure it is to see me
again /

beauty fades to grey
foreboding storm clouds
pendulous
carry bigotry bolts
and the thunder of fascism ~

she tells babies
fanciful tales
leaving out the hot breath, sharp scales, and jagged claws
handing over a leashed dragon
for holiday /

a child walks through front doors
never stepping on a crack
plays nicely on fresh mowed grass
sheltered from truth
until the van pulls up
presenting brightly colored
sugar coated
reality /

there is a line of thought
that each soul chooses its path
creating a general outline of experiences
a sense of direction without any concrete
it was then I became a writer ~

my mother sat me upon her lap
read to me little golden books
and Dr. Seuss
from time to time she would experience nostalgia
and read to me her own youthful writings
it was then I became a writer  ~

AP English taught by a wicked witch
no vision   no freedom     no fun
write this style this way or fail
I failed
it was then I became a writer  ~

sobbing over stationary
attempting to write away a failed marriage
trying to rhyme piece of mind
with leaving a daughter behind
ultimately choosing a needle and the life
like Hunter, Jack, and William…..
it was then I became a writer ~

sitting across from murderers
sharing the secret I held most dear
I read aloud my poetry for the first time
It was then I became a writer  ~

I became a writer the moment I
cocked my head to examine closer the delicate petals
of a dandelion  ~

I became a writer the instant I felt
          anything  ~

the day I set my hand free
and it became dearest of friends
with both my head and heart
that
that is the day I became a writer /