Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Dream of Tears

—Poems and Photo by David Lee, Folsom, CA

Dream of tears

The inmate lays upon his mat, it’s dark and he’s alone
Can’t see his hand before his face, loneliness to the bone
He sings some tunes, just for a while, before he stops and sighs
Enters a world, inside his mind, where light of life still shines
He leans against a village wall, and sings a tearful song
A maiden that was passing by, stands close and hums along
The man gets shy and quickly stops, but then she urged him on
He starts again, sings with eyes low, song tender as a fawn
The song has passed, the maiden smiles, the sky is blue and bright
The trees green leaves, dance cheerfully, above the cheerful sight
She holds his hand, gives him a kiss, an angel to his eyes
A newfound friend, names Briana, their love did swiftly rise
He took her home, they spun and danced, he held her in his arms
A longing kiss and full embrace, away from all life's harms
The inmate smiles, still in his thoughts, forgets he’s doing time
His eyes are closed, his heart runs wild, his spirit in a climb
A sad image, this man that dreams, dancing in a world that’s fake
That man was me, not long ago, though I’m still not awake


Pity of drugs

There’s a young man outside, and he’s curled on the ground
Shaking and quaking and he can’t make a sound
There’s cops and there’s nurses all standing around
I watch from next door got first seat in the crowd
From heroine I see that this young man might die
A pitiful thing he’s so hurt he can’t cry
They take him away like he’s ninety years old
Yet barely nineteen when his life should be gold
I find this a lesson and sobering too
I hope that others listen and that they get a clue
If not I guess I’ll see you one day on the floor
I’ll remember that boy and say look there’s one more


Ghost in Jail

There’s a ghost among these halls from an inmate that just died
We’re on lockdown for long weeks, don’t know why the sergeant lied
Sitting in the lonesome cells, for some weeks too long to tell
Need to call your lawyer, darn, all I can say to you’se oh well
As the ghost roams down these halls, I feel shivers down my spine
Feel some eyes at the window, and that stare is most unkind
Shadows move among the walls, though most times I cannot see
When the ghost is lurking here, sometimes gliding next to me
All his family cries outside, he’s locked up eternally
Spend the rest of time in jail, he will never come out free
Cries of anguish we can’t hear, haunt the jail for long years
From the man who has just died, still in orange, stained with tears


Proper guidance

You see a rush of water, you want to block its path
So you pull a stockade up, and you see the water crash
However all that you accomplished, is in fact nothing and less
Because when the water crashed, it just made a heavy mess
For the wall failed its job, and the water powered on
Until waves had knocked it down, and your building is all gone
And the place you wanted dry, is now a sea you can't deny
And you wasted your resources, on a wall that quickly died
People wonder at this problem, it's gone on for centuries
When they're speaking to their children, or resistant families
People always make a wall, that they rarely see succeed
Let me tell you now the answer, that will give your life much ease
When the waves are coming strong, make a pipe to let it in
Don't resist with a wall, as you saw that never wins
But a pipe will change its flow, you don't have to make a show
You can move it any way, while it doesn't even know
Because water can't fight back, when you're helping by its side
Teach and guide its recklessness, without damaging its pride
With a child or adult, all the rules are just the same

Give a loving guiding hand, not a palm to bring them shame


—Medusa, with thanks to David Lee for today’s fine brunch in the Kitchen! 
Don’t be a stranger, David! 

(Anonymous Photo) 
Celebrate poetry! 
Tonight at 9pm, Mahogany Urban Poetry Series 
presents Coco Blossom at Queen Sheba Restaurant, 
1704 Broadway, Sacramento. Host: Malik Speaks. Door: $5.

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