Carry on, My Wayward Son (The River)

Carry on, my wayward son

your crooked smile, gnarled dogtooth, will beguile

the huddled masses

 

Carry on, my wayward son

 your complexion that requires constant reflection

that deepest shade of jaded race

 

Carry on, my wayward son

 let not the hate of the world burden your shoulder, move the boulder

equality is one step closer

 

Carry on, my wayward son

your bright speeches eaten up by the young, a resounding drum

in the grey of post-consumerist society

 

Carry on, my wayward son

encapsulate the struggle, shown the humble

suffering of the good, and instigated change.

Carry on, my wayward son

It takes time to reach across the aisle, to move the sea

so ingrained in its habits.

 

Carry on, my wayward son

It takes time to teach, to reach 

those who have always been taught to fear the dark.

 

Carry on, my wayward son,

there’s hope, so long as you smile

that the world can one day be yours.

just dip your feet in,

submerge yourself one day at a time

into the river of life.

 

Work (Stay High)

Click, clack, riff raff.

The constant noise that punctuates my work, split numerical figures.

the beeping of computers and hums of subzero refrigerators.

 

Click, clack, riff raff.

The constant rustle of pages as I read, of the poems and notes I scribe

trying to pass the time somehow while packages arrive.

 

Click, clack, riff raff.

The squeal of the cart as I push it along, loaded with freight

the same sound as when I tumble down the stairs, tripped by my own gait.

 

Click clack, riff raff.

For hours, I contain myself in this windowless room,

the door is open, but it still feels like a tomb.

 

Riff raff, click clack.

This is getting ridiculous; why are the so many folders?

All I can think about is holding you a little bit closer.

 

Riff raff, click clack.

I can’t do this anymore, this is so tedious.

When was the last time I spoke to someone?This quiet makes me nervous.

 

Riff raff, click clack.

I can almost hear you, similarly typing away.

Sunshine, why must you command my thoughts with such sway?

 

Riff rack, click clack.

I can leave for five minutes, just five, can’t I?

I need to talk to you, if I don’t see you soon, I’ll die.

 

Click clack, riff raff.

Contain yourself. There’s work to be done

can’t waste my time with no overburdened son

Of Adam. Gotta get in the know, 

best find yourself  a work flow. 

Blast music, take rap and opera in equal doses

make mantras and thick worded academia your grandiose diagnoses

Just gotta work, gotta get on the grind

it doesn’t matter if the sad makes you blind.

Just work, just gotta make those fat stacks

Who cares if anyone loves you back?

This is the lifestyle, this is the dream!

This is the American way, and here you’re the queen.

What does it matter if money is just a delusion?

Isn’t happiness itself just one big illusion?

 

(I’m staying high all the time, just to forget I’ve missed you)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Run (Feast Atop the Hill)

Run

sunshine, it’s you again,

sly silver fox, rag-tooth smile

voice soothing as rain

Run

You’ve seen me, scurrying

feet a patter, platters whirling

you try to help, ease my hurrying.

Run

you tried your best

sent inside by beleaguered bosses

take a seat, have a rest.

Run

You’re talking, asking around

I’m running, twirling, trying to get things done

I’m starving, though food abounds

Run

I try to take you, in brief snippets

poke fun at you, fake-rage at your jokes

with you my heart is but a fluttering cricket

Run

this feast has turned into an emergency

I’ve misunderstood the hunger

of scientific minds, feasting with urgency

Run

an hour passes

the rain pounds down

but still remain the starved masses

Run

I see you wandering, lost, lonely

I tap your shoulder and bump another man next to you

Getting you to talk like old cronies

Run

the storm has settled, the food is gone

your contemporaries sit bloated

bellies engorged as they rest on the lawn

Run

I finally have time to see you, sunshine.

To really speak to you, not just my angry platitudes

But you’ve already gone–lost somewhere in time

Run

Between mad dashes inside

and slipping between tents

it seems I’ve been brushed aside.

Run

I don’t mind, you’ve got your folks

a home, a life, a wife

what of me? I’m but a ghost.

Run

(Hide inside)

Run

(Where no one can see you cry)

Run

(to the forest, to be with the trees)

Run

where the only sound is me.

Of Quaggas and Thylacines (Adam and Eve)

O! Africa, land blessed with savanna grass

Smooth ivory, rubber production few can surpass.

From ancient times, you’ve been exploited, 

your mines emptied, rubber trees cleared, quaqqas murdered adroit.

 

O! Africa, land blessed with greatest feats

Of evolutionary marvel, the strongest beasts

Lion and hippos, rinoceri abounded

In the time before Portuguese ships had grounded.

 

O! Australia, land blessed with red rocked land

That tepid clime of marsupial brand

From ancient times you’ve been a haven

For monotremes and freaks, all things craven.

 

O! Australia, land blessed like the bourgeois

Blighted thylacines of mighty maw

You’ve been run down by colonization

cane toads and dingoes and collapsing civilization. 

 

O! ancient world, once blessed with verdant lawns

What must you think of us, monsters you’ve spawned?

We tore open your bowels, skinned you alive

All for the treasures you had buried inside

 

O! sweet earth, fertile soil

We’re trying to return your spoils

Philanthropists lend a helping hand

Science trying to replicate  DNA strands

stuffing animals into jars

stuffing scientific lingo into legal bars

trying to make a thylacine reappearance

trying to keep the golden frog from disappearance

trying not to realize, to think, and concede to the grief

the loss of all that once roamed the garden with Adam and Eve

 

(we’re all alone now, hear the bells toll now, there’s no escape now)

 

 

 

 

 

We the Animals (Life’s History)

We are sisters, you and I

oryx trekking across dry desert dunes

searching in earnest for watery salvation.

We are brothers, you and I

wolves racing along the under-story

noses filled with the scent of the hunt.

 We are fathers, you and I

sulfurous stallions, carved from steel

ready to protect our children.

We are mothers, you and I

paradigmed paranthopi, softest touches

love flows from our hearts.

We are lovers, you and I

Eagles pair-bonded in flight

never to be separated.

We are animals, you and I

fractal cousins, leaves on the Tree

sprung up from the earth

in the time before the sea.