Our Nightly Meal

We will eventually feel the fall breeze
Meandering over the rice fields.
It’s the addition we need to this ease
Of living off of what this farm yields.
The men will gather the vegetables
That we will use for our dinner table.
It is in that moment when our troubles
Turn into nothing more than a fable.
We will know then that the day’s long labor
Has been worth all of our time and effort.
We’ll be surrounded by those we adore
When we give to each other our support.
This is the power of the night’s meal
When a family can become real.

Downtime

My goal for today is not to have one.
It is important this is accomplished,
And that absolutely nothing gets done,
For it’s a dream devoutly to be wished.
It is harder to do than what you think
Because there’s always something demanding
To be saved from going over the brink,
Keeping my community from dying.
From society’s web I’ll disconnect
To keep them from grabbing my attention,
For if I answer, my goals will be wrecked.
I’ll never gain any relaxation.
I know this may be hard for you to see,
But today is dedicated to me.

America in the 21st Century

Rats are ruling over our government,
Claiming that they do it for this nation.
Preachers tell me that I need to repent,
Sticking out their hands for a donation.
Law man patrols in a bullet proof vest,
Keeping order through the use of his gun.
The honest man cannot get any rest
Because of the lawyer’s exploitation.
Business man lives in his tower of greed,
Looking down at mankind’s desperation.
Injured sit outside hospitals in need,
Being denied saving medication.
I look forward in anticipation
To leave behind all of this corruption.

Our Private Porch

Did you know that we don’t need life so loud?

We can take a reprieve from all the mess
By getting away from the fighting crowd
And unwinding from society’s stress.

There is a porch that overlooks a hill
Behind which the sun will ev’ry night sink,
And you can feel the icy glass’s chill
As our relaxing cheers ring out a clink.

We don’t need to run in the rat race
If we don’t feel up to the competition.

In reality, there’s nothing to chase
Except the joy of our expectations.

For you, I have built this little retreat
Where we will find a life that’s more complete.

Graduation

Has there been so much change these last four years,
Or is it a matter of perspective?
No one can prognosticate where life steers
Because it does so without a motive.
It does not play against out deepest fears
Even though we may believe it is so.
It does not care about our shedding tears
Because those feeling don’t cause it to slow.
It does not listen to our grateful cheers;
It considers it nothing more than noise.
The troubles of man do not reach its ears;
It won’t even move its elegant poise.
Yet these four years have tumbled on past,
And the first day was diff’rent than the last.

Underneath the Mango Tree

As the fading light on the horizon
Sputters out the last of its final glow,
I have found my place to enjoy the sun
Underneath the tree that gives me mango.
I know I can find a cooler respite
In my house with the air conditioning,
But then I would miss the coming of night
For a moment of comforted living.
The brutal heat may wish for me to hide
In the safe seclusion of my cocoon,
But there is more that is offered outside.
I’ll be able to make my retreat soon.
I have made the choice to live with my sweat
As I only will witness this sunset.

The Old Stomping Grounds

This the place of his old stomping grounds
Where at one time they were considered kings.
Now the new pavement in which his feet pounds
No longer listens to the songs he sings.
There are new kings regulating this town,
Molding it into their desired shape.
The places he used to haunt are torn down,
Taking away his favorite escape.
Even though the street names are the same
The titles of buildings are different.
The youth he encounters plays a new game,
Not recognizing who he represents.
Now he understands with what he has seen,
He can never go back to the old green.