For My Elderly Parent


To My Elderly Parent

I realized listening was what was needed

Should I interject at any point

It would change the momentum of the reminiscing

Do I really need to feel how this person felt?

Just because I am from their loins,

am I obligated to show compassion?

But, I realized listening was what was needed

Moments of silence

And I listened

And when the apologies for taking up my valuable time

started,

I realized listening was what was needed

affirmations, confirmations, delivered out of respect,

more poised on trying to stay in tune

Soon, like a quantum leap

we are back to today

And, “I Love You” is always heard

The Beauty of it All


Time means nothing
  when You have no watch
Sight means nothing
  when You fail to see
Power means nothing
  when You have no support
Love means nothing
  when You don’t have a heart
Desire means nothing
  when passion alludes
Dates mean nothing
  when You live care-free
A name means nothing
  if it is not used
A mind is a terrible thing to waste
  when the soul is being abused
A mirror can mean everything
  If You like what You see
It’ll let You know something is off
  If You don’t let it be

Cruel World


Cruel World

This World is so cruel

We’re all on the food chain

that somebody placed somebody

in charge of

just so they can survive

We’re all animals in the food chain

How long should a Zebra live

before it is taken down?

Even the birds pluck from the ground

There’s always something or someone

looking down on us

Even on their level, they still command.

Even in death, something or someone is

in-charge to put us away

Everything needs to be put away

sometimes, out of its misery

The Jury


The Jury is the Judge

even when the truth is there

Though everyone doesn’t like

the flavor

the pudding is eaten anyway

Who wrote the Book

that is always bound in Black?

So many prayers in print there

so many words to be taken

seriously

But, are they?

God is found there

when they need justification

Peace is found there

to satisfy the major-i-tee

Rope burns in the hands

of the lesser

numbered to stand for the strange

fruits of their forbidden tracks

Mocked and forced in the

pressure cooker

Tears drip as the steam overflows

The Jury speaks

But do they in unison

when only one bangs the gavel?