Driving liberty down my winding driveway
Again down the causeway, in the rain.
Wondering if I should really light that bomb?
Worrying about my old dog May,
she has gone deaf and can hardly walk.
Peed on the floor; when I let her in the house
to shelter her from the cold.
Hardly able to lift her
rear on the couch.
To lay on the Indian blanket -
I gave her to keep warm.
Knowing she has few days left, my May.
The red tailed hawk flew down my path
Escorting me, down my smooth drive
Turning the corner following my lead the
bumpy road I live on Greenway
The wind howls stronger, now.
Knowing victory is mine
Finally silence had come-
I had spoken my piece.
Finally, some realized “I am just recording this.”
My words never, or rarely my own.
The wind howling louder, sharper word whispers.
The bald eagle circled the lake, on my drive
Finding I couldn’t take the turn now on the viaduct.
To throw pennies, dimes at the poor.
It was covered with smoke, thick pollution.
They stricken deaf, mute and blind from it,
wondering should I light that bomb?
For bums carrying tin aluminum cans.
Cashing them in to barely eat, for a day.
My drive was too foggy, my red tailed hawk-
landed in a tree, just watching.
Whispering a violent end wind.
Should I now ignite that bomb?
Should I throw the dimes, quarters- away?
Give to the poor, who give nothing back?
I had just figured out how to drive it myself.
Just learning to see myself,
should I light that bomb?
I had poured, and poured gasoline.
But, I wondered, was it best now-
That I said my piece, to be silent now?
When you see the red tail hawk, living on
Greenway road, angle the angel crossing.
And the Indians give you coyote power to see.
When the wind whispers the howl of weird winters.
Should I light that bomb? Hoping to save bums
who never see, or want to see.
And when the grand bald eagle circles your lake.
Loud Wondering, whispers of the wonders-
Should I light that bomb?
Ignite the fire, to keep the bums warm,
for the winter.
Do I give all that I have,
to those whom don’t care?
I knew what it meant,
“I finally knew how to drive Liberty.”
Yet, I knew don’t drive that fire too fast.
Worrying the fog already has permeated
And -has blinded the bums. Permanently.
They will never see, if I ignite a warm flame?
Will they ever see?
Wondering, should I light that bomb?
So, I turned away from the polluted viaduct
I turned away- drove another path.
Giving no more warmth shelter, pennies-
dimes, or quarters to the bums
Knowing they feed off it for only a day.
Never caring or remembering the angel
Who threw them warmth, dimes quarters.
Pennies thrown from heaven.
The red tail hawk, whispering-
The wind howling.
The grand bald eagle soaring
All saying.
Don’t give the warm fire to bums
Don’t light a beautiful bomb
Of love.
On to the undeserving.
Turn away, turn away
The wind howls turn away.
And leave the bums.
I blew out the wick,
And saved the ignition switch for another day.
I didn’t light the bomb, I just poured, and poured the
Gasoline. And waited, patiently
For the red tail hawk, the bald eagle
And the wind, to tell me when.
And gave my blue rose here, to those I knew were -
More deserving. I didn’t have to light the bomb here
It was already lit.
Thanks for reading the blue rose.
No comments please 5:46am 12-12-08
Originally Posted On Site: 2008-12-10 06:58:56
Last Login: 04.01.09
Visits as of 12-12-07: 131
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