My place work
And writing
Is far from perfect
But when hope is written
It matter not
The time or
Place
My place work
And writing
Is far from perfect
But when hope is written
It matter not
The time or
Place
I will write
Only what I know to be true
What I don’t write is not up to me
But rather
Up to you
Living in a state of flux
I have learned habits
To keep me healthy and hopeful
That tomorrow’s
Future will be better than
Yesterdays past
Other plans
Stand to challenge
The path of this days
Directions
With a loud
Interjection
The bored groan
Emerges
From my soul
As the time lags on
Into what seemed close
Now just distant hopes
Of improving my life and circumstance
Maybe today
The hope is to breathe
And dance
Can these words rise
Up to the days that
Lie in the future
Around the corner
And flat on the pavement
Where the people walk
And talk
The poetry
Or words
Combines
To make meaning
Significant maybe
But timely
Indeed
If no one listens
And all we do is talk
We don’t see other perspectives
We don’t take other shoes
To walk
Through the life we live
And learn about each
Other
It just seems now
It’s one human
Vs
Another
A world I don’t know
Comes in a devastating
Thunderstorm
Of clashes
With people
Who’s intrinsic
Nature
I would hope to be
Good
However in a world
I can’t understand
How one human hand
Can be turned into a
Violent machine
Of descimation
Desicration
Is now
What I see
I’m not sure that
Is the world
Where I want to
Be
Building towers
For many hours
Days
Months
Years
From now
Those towers will sway
And fall
In a new lifetime
After us all
So everyday is an opportunity
To see where we can plant
Our towers that rise
From sky to sea
How to start
The off time
With a momentous
Move
To build out the old
Groove
With every note
And melody
Every tea and coffee
Sets a new standard
An new height
Everyday
Of my life