I am damaged beyond repair,
Breathing with an empty heart,
Pumped by God dancing in White Coat.
Dance no more and
Let Me Go
To my own rhythm and rhyme:
I have been dead a long time.
I am more than just a beating heart!
Note: This poem was written after I met a paralyzed man. This is not about me but the issues raised in our conversation.
Armed with righteous authority of legal title
to a piece of land I call home, backyard and all,
A Bee made its hive no more than a foot by foot
on the side of my deck,
Does not the Bee know I am the owner of this all; I have a paper to say so?
I set out to destroy the hive.
Confused, the Bee asked:
How do humans live?
Cannot a Hungry Child eat a fruit in plain sight?
Cannot a Homeless Family build its nest on vacant land?
Is that not the Law of “It” who you call God?
“We are civilized,” I informed the Bee.
“We respect both the Fat and the Hungry; the Homeless and the Sheltered:
A child may eat a hanging fruit in plain sight as long a fence and titled deed gives her the right;
The homeless may build on vacant land not owned by someone else.
Yes, this does not feed and shelter all
but without our laws chaos would ensue and civilizations crumble.”
The Bee fled thinking all the while:
I have not seen hunger or thirst following “It”:
Unto man his laws.
I have not seen a Mightier Fool.