Memories are expensive
spent on looking back
Unpaid moments lost in time
debts for what we lack
Overdue nostalgia
debiting supreme
Clouded statements left unrhymed
—mortgaging our dreams
(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)
In the poverty of sound
hides a final goodbye
Mortgaging the silence
with debt to decry
A tenancy of sorrow
with melody banned
An orchestra homeless
—foreclosure at hand
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
Buying into the future,
without mortgaging the past
Each day a new indemnity
—a present made to last
(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)
Liberals with a credit card,
Debts they’ll never pay
Mortgaging our future,
The present now ‘in play’
Conservatives with a checkbook,
The balance no concern
Hope now bouncing downward
—when will we ever learn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
If Africans were enslaved that time
bought, sold as goods and maimed
carried away to work as ancient robots
they would be wise today
If Africans were colonized that time
harassed, robbed, some ancestors deleted
and wealth looted to build cities, metropolis
they would be wise today
If Africans were racially segregated that time
not allowed to enjoy rights of humans
and blocked from political activities abroad
they would be wise today
Africans, who do you think will respect you?
Who will take you serious as the neo-colonized?
Who will protect your resources in the land?
Where have you thrown that history of shame?
Life you live today, good or questionable
was built on the corpse of struggle, abuse
on ruins of those who resisted unfairness
Heroes of yesteryear are restless in tombs
Think not about tomorrow, today
Eat all tomorrow, today -with comfort
Posterity will forgive you -worry not
today you are mortgaging fatherland
That which is lost is will be gotten back
Money pours out the door as we buy presents for loved ones
and spend on food and drink three or four times more than usual.
Mortgaging ourselves for the next six months. Yet! Why?
To load family with more unwanted goods and thicker waist lines?
To drink past the point of sense? To wake up with a hang over?
What is the reason for all this excess? To feel good for few hours?
Twenty four hours and its over, now comes the grind of clearing up.
Hours of overtime to pay off the bills leaving no family time for fun.
Yet what is this time? It is all about Santa Claus, forgotten is the child.
It is the season to be jolly and so we spend as if we have bottomless purses.
Seeking, searching and hunting for that elusive happiness we are so blind.
This time of year should be a spiritual occasion a time to look within.
To reach out to others and to nature. To take joy in simple things.
Forget the commercial side of things. Enjoy instead life's bounties.
For me the true meaning of this special time is all about sharing.
Liberals with a credit card
Debts they’ll never pay
Mortgaging our future
The present now ‘in play’
Conservatives with a checkbook
The balance no concern
Hope now bouncing downward,
—when will we ever learn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
Planning your demise is like
tip-toeing on a tight rope
realising there's no net
challenging a
speeding car and
daring it to stop
mortgaging your manhood
amassing liabilities with no program of repayment
leaping to the wrong conclusions
leaning toward self-delusions
indulging in the same old
self-defeating speculations
endorsing self-destruction
'til you're finally out of time!
Planning your demise is like
walking on a tight rope
realizing there's no net
challenging a
speeding car and
daring it to stop
mortgaging your manhood
amassing liabilities
with no program of repayment
leaping to the wrong conclusions
leaning toward self-delusions
indulging in the same old self-
defeating speculations
endorsing self-destruction
till you're finally out of time.
As Swedish lightning enters
Renders day from deepest night
And (soulful) wishers beg
Mortgaging their tearful fortunes
For an ounce of pure spiritual bullion
With happy veins glistening
Truth, honor, sufficient respect
Among the smelted ore
Ready for mold and use
Pass me down
The spirit roars
Throw me selflessly into the frenzy
That needs the slightest taste
Where spirit climbs
Wind lifting it above the caroling
Desperate chorus
They sing to place the blame
Affix the blame
Plainly on shoulders
Foreign yet known
Sturdy, meaty
Built by strength
Gained, endured
Through the repetition
Yet believe, they will
Chant its gross tales of hope
Until the sun can rise
On its own
Two feet.
(8/14/04)
Planning your demise is like
tip-toeing on a tight rope
realising there's no net
challenging a
speeding car and
daring it to stop
mortgaging your manhood
amassing liabilities with no program of repayment
leaping to the wrong conclusions
leaning toward self-delusions
indulging in the same old
self-defeating speculations
endorsing self-destruction
till you're finally out of time!
Planning your demise is like
walking on a tight rope
realising there's no net
challenging a
speeding car and
daring it to stop
mortgaging your manhood
amassing liabilities with no program of repayment
leaping to the wrong conclusions
leaning toward self-delusions
indulging in the same old self-
defeating speculations
endorsing self-destruction
till you're finally out of time.
Business before pleasure
Are you a big spender
Mortgaging your heart
For lustful endeavors
Straddling your bottom line
Leveraged with burgundy wine
She wants a quick merger
Before your numbers decline
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