July 4: Joy's Last Days

Joy’s Last Days

Your mouth hung open;
Your hair fallen out.
You can’t make a sound,
But you’re lucid, no doubt.

Taking in your well wishers
Takes your mind off the strain
Your strength is fading.
Not much, but some pain.

I know you have struggled.
You seem somehow at ease,
Resigned in your knowledge
Of the end of disease.

You can hardly swallow
What we drip on your tongue,
And though you must be hungry
You no longer crave.

Yet we still recognize you,
Here, where you belong
We remind you of times
We shared and our songs,

Grateful for the time
You can still be around.
You struggled to breathe
A drug helped you to calm.

You seemed so peaceful,
And then you were gone.

July 5: Joy

Joy

I’m not all into the grief and lamentation
Over what once was and can no longer be.
I’m not exactly in the mode of celebration,
But I sense that her gifts still affect you and me.
So many pictures of our lives she enabled us to see.

She was an astute, energetic, kindly person to know
Through the games she could play and the skills she could teach.
I recall her ingenuity, but now I let it go,
While others keep groping for what’s now beyond our reach.
Only she had the power to hold a wave upon the beach.

I wish I could share my love in a poem or a song.
It’s my own sense of reality that’s getting in my way.
She had a way of distinguishing what do and don’t belong
But when I held my ground for what I needed to say,
She could see where I was coming from, and it would be okay.

Acceptance wasn’t tied to a certain point of view,
But to hold a conversation with good humor and respect.
I’ve been trapped in my attachments to what I think is false or true.
Her knowledge was more subtle, and even indirect.
Her gift - to make observances, and not to introspect.

We sought to share our love in authenticity,
And relish our adventures:  Choose a goal and map a route.
As in art, so in life, we display our liberty.
Life is too, too short to analyze it out,
But in our changing reflections, we find what life’s about.

So we learn through the process of playful interaction;
A gentle curiosity for hearing different views:
The defenses people build and the points of attraction,
Where we put our attention and the colors that we choose . . .
Just a few of her perspectives that we don’t have to lose!

July 6: Art As Resistance To Change

Art As Resistance to Change

Change in life is an awful annoyance.

You just get started and it’s time to end.

You want to remember your state of buoyance.

You want to be with your long-lost friend.

You know you can’t always keep it together

Or remember the flowering of your simple heart.

You want beauty - or pain - to go on forever,

And those are the moments that you turn to art.

Your art then takes a life of its own.

At least, it never meets my own expectation,

But it reflects a part of what was meant to be shown.

The rest is a balance of luck and creation.

July7: Unconscious Understanding

Unconscious Understanding

We don’t know what sensitivities lie hidden in our genes.
Sometimes we’ll get a feeling and we don’t know what it means.
Our attention may be scattered, but a changing in the weather:
A winter storm; a hurricane - can bring us all together,
And help us see a potential, or deal with a disruption
Like the way the snakes and monkeys act before a big eruption.
Two weeks before the lava starts seeping through the crest,
The monkeys get excited and birds will leave their nests.
The reptiles all come crawling across the muddy fields.
When they crush out all the air, they disrupt the farmer’s yields.
How do the animals understand what a scientist doesn’t know?
Of course, they can’t explain it.  They just feel when it’s time to go!
And the old chief in his highland village said the gods had been disturbed.
The people in the cities never took him at his word.
They said it wasn’t feasible for the tribe to emigrate,
But they all came down the mountain because they knew they couldn’t wait.

July 8: Building Relationships With The Poor

Building Relationships with the Poor

Some people writhe in a mass of trouble:

Disorganization and circumstance,

While others are happy to live in their bubble;

A smooth, though sadly predictable dance.

Some have the gift to be engaged

In their worlds, and are truly alive.

Some are inspired to work for change;

For a world where we all can thrive.

Some have an ideal of community

Where they strive to be truly inclusive.

Can it grow in the heart of the city?

The answers are still inconclusive.

We may not reach the best, but we strive to get better

At respecting people in every station,

And find the ways we can get together

In work and in conversation.

No one’s got time to sit around

With folks that just can’t relate.

We’ve got to get clear on our common ground;

In untying ourselves from our fate.

Those who have a strong ability

Build the bridges to heal the divide,

But it’s not an exercise in futility

To stand with the marginalized.

July 9: Just An Ordinary Man

Just An Ordinary Man

Can’t you see me where I’m standing?

I am just an ordinary man!

I’m just like you; I’m not so strange!

I’m looking for shelter and I only need a ride!

Please, could you spare me just a little bit of change?

I’ve got no place to run and hide!

I’ve got no place to run and hide!

Do I really look like I mean to be imposing?

I’ve got nothing in my hands, so what are you supposing?

What makes you so careful to lock your door,

Staring straight ahead at the traffic light?

I think the wind is blowing up a storm

In the fading glow of this winter’s night!!

In the fading glow of this winter’s night!

I step behind a store just to take a leak.

There’s some bushes by the alley, and I’m feeling kind of beat.

Then a deputy strolls up to me with his stick,

Saying “Keep your private business out of sight!

Get back out to the street.  You better make it quick,

‘Cause all these stores are closed for the night!

All these stores are closed for the night!”

I step inside a bar, feeling kind of nervous

“We have the right,” they say, “to refuse to give you service."

I say, “If you don’t mind, could I use your telephone?

The bouncer tells me “There's a booth right down the block.”

A patron says, “I’ll bet you don't even have a home!”

I shrug and he orders me up a Rolling Rock.

I shrug and he orders me up a Rolling Rock!

“Buddy, I can get you an awesome place to stay

If you’ll deliver some bundles.   It’s a tiny price to pay.

I can get you some clothes and something good to eat.

If you’ll stay with me I’ll even call you my son!

There’ll be lots of wine, and women we can meet

At the end of the day when our work is done.

At the end of the day when our work is done.”

As the sun came up, he said, “It’s getting late!”

I got some other business.  Would you mind to wait?

He stopped the car.  I said, “What’s going on?”

He said, “Get you a cup of coffee and a sugar roll.”

He hands me a five, saying “Stay here while I’m gone!”

But I felt like he was trying to take my soul!

And I sure wasn’t gonna let him take my soul!

‘Cause what could I say the day they put me on trial

With some old judge who’d forgotten how to smile.

Like – I don’t know I’ve been workin’ for the mob?

Like – I don’t know I was making an illegal sale?

Like – I’m just a flunky who is bound to take any job?

Like – I really want to spend my life in jail

With no one in the world who can make my bail!

Now, I haven’t had a bite of breakfast yet,

But I don’t want to be in someone’s debt.

So I wave him on with a motion of my hands

When the guy drives by, blowing his angry horn.

The look on his face tells me that he understands.

I think that it’s going to be a happy morning.

I’m thinking that it’s going to be a happy morning!

But I still need some shelter and I’m looking for a ride!

I’ve got no place where I can run and hide.

I’m just like you!  Really, I’m not so strange!

Can’t you see me where I take a stand?

Couldn’t you spare me just a little bit of change?

I am just an ordinary man!

I am just an ordinary man!

July 10: On The Street

On The Street

So many people, left out on the street.

Be more in these turbulent, rock-bottom days,

With angry eyes, smoky brains, tired feet;

Shiver in cold and thirst in the heat;

Lonely, ragged, skittish to meet,

And misunderstood in their ways.

Some folks you’ll find there are really lost:

Their thoughts floating ‘round and around,

With oceans of hope that they can’t swim across.

Some are too proud to submit to a boss,

Or in hiding, revelation’s too high of a cost,

And they’d rather live close to the ground.

When you live in the jungle, you learn the ropes,

And you do what it takes to survive.

You might feel you’re a stranger.  You learn to cope.

You flow with the crazies, the cons, and the dope.

You jump through the hoops of the bringers of hope.

It’s rarely a place you can thrive.

But God keeps loving us all the same.

We’re all a part of one humanity.

We begin again, forgetting the blame.

We learn our lessons.  Releasing our shame,

And see our lives as a kind of a game:

That’s the way we hold on to our sanity.

Although some will be able to find their niche,

Knowing their friends and connections.

You can travel the world if you know how to hitch.

You can run with a gang.  You can be a snitch.

Beneath the radar, you can even get rich,

Or sustained under someone’s protection.

People come through, but not with reliance.

Everyone’s in so much flux.

Try taking control and you’ll meet with defiance.

Make an agreement.  You won’t find much compliance.

You can talk about politics; talk about science:

   Survival is really the crux!

But God keeps loving us all the same,

Despite all our posing and vanity.

We begin again, forgetting the blame.

We learn our lessons.  Releasing our shame,

And see our lives as a kind of a game:

But we never lose sight of reality.

There will arise movements to raise our condition,

And sustain a real counterculture;

Inspired projects for a common mission;

Real involvement and shared decision;

An organization unfolding a vision

That can’t be misused by a vulture!

But mostly, the dream remains a dream

While we all strive to be more aware

That people are more than what they may seem;

That there’s a thousand ways for a spirit to scream.

The Light is in us, we can channel its beams,

Giving strength to know how to care.

And God keeps loving us all the same.

We’re all a part of that divinity.

We begin again, forgetting the blame.

We learn our lessons, releasing our shame,

And see our lives as a kind of a game

With endless possibility!

July 11: Homeless Visitor, Seeking Work

Homeless Visitor, Seeking Work

Late in the day, I’m winding down.

I could be doing ‘most anything,

Thinking about going out on the town,

And that’s when I hear the doorbell ring,

And I wonder who that person might be,

And just what it is he'd be asking of me.

Whatever it is, I’ll have to say “no.”

And tell the brother that he’s got to go.

It turns out that it’s someone I’ve seen  before

On another day when I needed a hand.

He’s hoping I have yet another chore.

It’s just not something for which I had planned.

Of course, he’s ready to tell his tale:

Just a few dollars to get out of the cold.

It’s hard to make it when you’re just out of jail.

It’s tough to take it when you’re sick.  Or old.

It’s just he and I, both standing there.

I don’t want to tell him that I just don’t care.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be down on my luck,

So I reach in my pocket and I hand him a buck,

Not knowing where the money will go.

Did I give too much?  Do I not give enough?

Is it concern or impatience I show?

Will I ever learn to get tough?

Because now it’s me running out of money,

And where shall I look for a friend?

I feel I’ve been milked and I don’t get no honey,

‘Cause I just don’t have nothing to spend.

“Thanks for the dollar.  Now what is your task?”
                 I say, “I’m sorry.”  I have nothing to ask.

I don’t want to have him come into my walls,

But I give him my number so he can give me a call,

And I won’t have to face him face to face.

"God bless you, sir.  You know you've been very kind,"

And I’m grateful that at least I have a place

Though I’m in my own kind of bind,

Still needing to think about how I serve

In my lifestyle, my dollars and cents,

Like so many others, I’m seeking the nerve

To choose a dream; get off of my fence.

Of course, I need a balanced vision

I need to find a real opportunity;

I see the implications in every decision

For myself and the Great Community.

So then as I think about my life and my role,

The doorbell rings another alarm.

I know we don’t have to pay the toll,

But we do have to face our karma!