Philly Story #389

The sub rocks me into a slippery self consciousness

So me and Marley fold into my seat and start jamming

We jamming

Blasting through the microcosmic speakers

 riding each lazy beat with euphoric glee

when across from me

this dude twists up his face

the other passengers scramble

like frantic cockroaches about to be smushed

I look

300 pound bowling ball of a man stands with a gun in his hand

waving as if he was princess Diane

I dam near lose a bowel movement

Tripping over people to get to the exit quick

What kind of shit is this that I just witnessed

I was trying to get to work and handle my business

Now I got lateness all on my plate

Damn. It had to be today.

Philly Story #90: Jesus Walks

Philly Story #90: Jesus Walks

And to think that I saw it on seventeenth street
And to think that I saw it on seventeenth street
There’s a guy all bloodied from his head to his feet
Walking cross Market, not quite so discreet
Is that a crown of thorns in his hair?
Re-enactment of liberation and despair
Ah. I guess that means Easter is near
Cause there goes the Christian crucifixion fleet in a heat
And to think that I saw it on seventeenth street

i know why

I know why the caged bird sings

I know why she tries to fly with broken wings

I know why

I know why

Because deep inside

Something is hurt

Mangled

I know why the dying bird cries for love

I know why her sing rings to the heavens above

Because she knows

She will die all alone

And cold

I know why she is blind to what hope brings

I know why she is incapable of these things

Because

Because

The other birds have all abandoned her

She is not a dove or a swan

No beauty for the light to shine on

Forgotten

God, I know why but I can’t help her

Because I am also a prisoner

Refugee of my thoughts

Captive of my heart

I can never fix the mangle, mold it into something better

So I bury myself in the shade of my cage

To await death’s laughter

Because

Because

There is no love for me

beyond bars the lying stars

rain acid on my dreams

singe my feathers and burn my beak

no tweet or sing to be sung

for the lonely birdy out on her own

without a flock

I know why she calls him back

The sorrowful raven with promises of tomorrow

Longing to trust all the black parts of him

I know why, stiff and dead

She points her head to the rising sun

And waits for love

that will not come

Farewell

Maybe on graduation day

I’ll sit there

with my last moments as a student

comforting the soul in my lap

courage will kick up in my chest

and I’ll wave good bye to this place,

The known.

I might baby step

Or barrel roll

Or nonchalantly tip my cap

to all you have made me

then stroll into the future’s night

with all the cares in the world

chalk up the deuces

and bid farewell

as I smile at my useless euphemisms

attempting not to cry

tears of apprehension

sadness

Or joy

I’ve sipped joe with the Josies

and learned from the best

for all, I am grateful

Now

onto face the rest

Philly Story #7: Poker Face

See they was giving out iced teas

you know how they give out free stuff sometimes in center city

i had a bunch of iced teas

and wouldnt you know it

i have to pee again

i done peed four times already she said

burning green hazel pupils

searching for sympathy

white wrinkled caramel skin

i went to the library, peed

down to the um PECO, peed

in the Burlington Coat Factory, peed

and just before i got on

this bus ride so doggone long

Jeesusss

Jeesusss

 

 

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We Will Not Be Moved

For a long time,

the Spanish youth occupied public squares in every city across Spain. They

fought for jobs, civil rights, democracy, and a chance to be 

heard.

I dedicate this poem to my friends and their cause

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The sounds of revolutionary cries outside the window

I can hear as clear as the morning after a storm

 We’re in the thick of it now

Slow boiling, like a pot on the stove

The buzzing of a hundred tongues chanting as one

We Will Not Be Moved No vamos No mudamos

Speaker phones blare the message to the world

Silent firecracker waiting to explode into an idea

A movement is beginning to bubble up

as quickly as the tents we set up for the sit-ins

listen to the sizzle of the sun on our concrete bedrooms

the beads of sweat roll down faces enthralled with a sense of injustice

We Will Not Be Moved

Rings true in the songs, in our laughter, in the words sprawled on the walls

In the secrets whispered in the halls

Did you hear the message, the message, did you hear?

Under one cause we have banded

We’re in the thicket of protest against unemployment

For social liberties, for rights

We thirst for freedoms we were promised

Living in the plaza square,

we have let our labors soak into the ground our bare bodies sleep on in unison

smell the stench of determination

hopefully our hope will change them

let them see that we are here

and we will not be moved.

June 26, 2011  Spain