Velocity of Moving

There are steps when you relocate;
The very first is making friends.
People change or move away,
Seems the cycle never ends.

Neighbors pair up into families,
We all watch our children grow;
Too soon they’re parents on their own,
While time erases what we know.

Occasionally a youngster’s death,
Will shake the entire town…
Usually it is the legends now
Who one by one, fall down.

Our needs in life are changing,
More foreign products on the shelf;
I do not recognize my town,
I am a legend now, myself.

What Legacy?

What memories will I leave behind
When I leave this planet earth?
No pyramids or opuses,
Or any visible thing of worth!

Yet I may leave something so unseen,
As small as a single house fly.
The descendants of the few I let,
Get away from the swatter’s try.

Maybe I’ll leave just a beetle,
As my legacy to life beyond…
I once plucked his drowning father,
From a stagnate summer pond.

Sounding Board

Thanks for being in my orchestra,
Playing to memories that I hoard.
I was the vocal piano string,
You were the sounding board.

Music is patterned vibrations,
More intense with the written word;
Thanks for the reverberation,
I know, in my world, I was heard

Integrity and the "I's"

I question sometimes, my own integrity,
I mean the way I talk about others.
I champion the little guy,
I lay in front of the bullet to protect.
I crucify others who do not
Always and deeply, think like I do.

I sometimes lay in wait for those
I subconsciously perceive as stupid.
I go to bed and think about blank slates.
I wonder if I locked the door…
I walk down stairs and twist the lock again.
I make sure the alarm clock is set.

I find perfection increases with years,
I see my narrowing criteria.
I try to relax, remembering blank slates,
I walk downstairs, wash my hands, the door is locked.
I make sure the alarm clock is set.
I walk downstairs to make sure the door is locked.

I think others may see me as unkind,
This year, they are not democrats.
I turn off the bedroom light,
I remember the blank slate…
I walk down the stairs to make sure the door is locked,
I make sure the alarm is set.

My Personall 911

The news is dripping terror,
Nine eleven, Islam, war…
My subconscious keeps on whispering,
All that, but so much more.

Bad politics and apathy,
Sights I cannot articulate…
Shell shocked and in a stupor,
Still I do not feel the hate.

The newspaper is all one sided,
Iraq’s success fills every page….
Still no mention of the people there,
Unemployment, poverty or rage.

Politicians never mention,
Iraqi deaths lost in the battle…
I feel guilty just surviving,
The drama near Seattle.

I grew up dreaming world peace;
A place I’ll never find…
We are locked out by other cultures,
And sadly, our own kind.

CHANCE

A dance with chance,
The date with fate,
Call it what you will…

I answered an ad when
Feeling quite sad and
Report, I am happy still.