Where’s the Love?

Often, when my eyes survey the world

They see joy lost and everywhere peace is gone;
And to earth falls flat pleas as dreams lay torn

From the lips of tears and misery I hear anguish

In panic my blood runs cold at things that unfold

When I shake hands with hurts and pain and melancholy.

It’s here I asked myself, where is the promised love?

With hope bereft and despair disguised as gentle arms

I went to the church and feathers of hope fell off me

I went to the village grounds and met open betrayals

On each street corner are greed, paybacks and spite

And all that can break your back left me dismayed.

I choked on the smiles on lips and the love on fingertips

And I asked myself, where is the love we talked about?

I cannot be at peace when people are not free.

And all that come to sooth the soul is angst
I ask myself is this what the revolution was about?

I see people who cannot marry the love of their lives.
I see countries and families torn apart by war and strife.
I met the nakedness of freedom, racism and inequality,

With a wounded heart that silently weeps

I do not think this is how it's supposed to be.

Like a seed that blows in the gentle breeze,
I want to spread love and put bigotry down on one knee.
Every human and every soul deserves happiness.
They shouldn't be harmed; we must lose bitterness.
But why have we lost love in our world?

Deep within my heart, there is a scorching flame
That demands I help my fellow man and woman
They scream at me to give them my hand.

My one wish is to deliver upon the world a soothing rain.
To cast away the reign of intolerance and fear,
To deliver humanity from tyranny's pain and torture

That a lifeless soul or a faceless one losses not the self

Hard Road

Sometimes, it is necessary 

for everything to flower from within;

and discover the gold and silver is the hurricane.

Sometimes, it’s self-blessing

to bitterly relearn a thing of its loveliness, 

that after nights of whirring rain, the earth is green again

Sometimes, it is necessary
to put a hand on the grimy brow and sigh

when you remember what made you once sad and cold.

Phone Calls from Home

I still receive phone calls and emails mostly from

cracked-up friends caught up in huge dreams, with no hope,

just booze and crazy American madness.

Most of their calls are flashes—“Call me back.”

They want some recognition of where they are

and it’s true, I was there, worse off than most of them.
but I wonder if they realize when their callS arrive?

When I’m dead in the library, when I am frozen in asleep.

They talk of a long driveway leading
to a four car garage, rose garden, blue skies, fruit trees,
beautiful women, a new car each month, red carpet freeways

and dream of fairy-tales in America the beautiful.

I’m 69 years old now and can’t go on retirement;

Oh! How much this flesh had to suffer, yet cannot die;

Hmm! How much this heart had to bear, yet cannot break;

raises questions that these painful tears cannot tell.

I still receive their phone calls and emails.

One came this morning when I was shuddering

At the surgeon’s knife, searching for quivering life
but death chooses its own time; not till all evils are borne.

The Determined

Whether you start at dawn or in the evening

It’s your own set of sails and not the gales
that tell the voyager how to paddle the boat.

It’s always the prize that rips apart the brave
and when you find out why old words die out on the tongue,
you’ll learn to let new melodies break forth from your heart.

Like the twisters of the sea are the whirlwinds of fate
As we journey through life’s alleys; it’s the aspirations
That decide the goal and not the calm or the tears

Which Way, Lord?

Staring out into the ocean, with no land in sight,

The world seems so vile ‘cause here and now,

It’s just me and Elyon my hope.

Often, I raise my hands in supplication,

In search of some direction,

To seek clarity in every purest ambition.

The wind and water hit my face, like pellets of reminders,

They tell me the air and water I depend on can hurt me

Just as much as they can nourish me.

Yet still, I hold on to them. I can’t let them go,

Because as much as they hurt at each step

And as much as they nourish, I have nothing else.

And I need them to understand my journey.

The Love of Elyon is pure, yet it comes with pain and pleasure

And we’re told it’s for lessons and satisfaction on the journey.

So, here I stand alone staring out into the ocean,

With no land in sight, it’s only the air and water I depend on.

With nothing in hand, I stand beneath the wings of seagulls.

Logosu, tell me, when the New Year comes to my door

Will my words need plumbers though I rest under his shelter?

Or I’ll need carpenters to reshape how I sit at my place?

The Year Is Now Dead, What Next?

We have come to where the sidewalk ends

And tonight, when the dreary bell rings at Midnight

Each of us will ponder over each second of our days

When we were weak and weary yet life went on

Some with thanksgiving will remember God’s grace

Like many mothers mourning for their children in the storms

Others like wives bereft of husbands and fathers singing dirges
For the loss of their flesh, with their spirit misplaced in tears

While blissfully some drums would thrill with champagne

In august and royal homes where lights glow, yet we can’t forget
Songs of sorrow the music of desolation of many wearing masks
Just to drown their songs of lamentations carried for miles

Do you remember how you once baked bread with your sweat

Then dare not to forget and never forget the ABCD of our lives

Armory, Bullet, Calamity, Devastation in “I can’t breathe”

They walk through lives of children of our Motherland

You may have experienced freedom from want
But I understand freedom has more colors than one
In fact more than I can explain today or tomorrow

In the Mouth of Wealth there are wounded souls

Can we have God with songs in the future

Straighten limbs of men and women to glow

Enter into tomorrow where life's visions never vanish

And dreams live on and we no more bath in tears

Will you celebrate the me and mine and sing of the self again

Let’s leave behind that place where the smoke blows dim

To go to where our desires are and our hopes profound

Now that the Old Year is dead and a New Year is born

Let’s go to where the moon shall be bright when we are dust

To where the stars are starry in the time of our darkness

Let’s pause now at the place where the sidewalk ends with all

And on the new street we dance with our innermost hearts out