Problems

Problems are not what defines a free people. We as humans are what we choose to be behind our own eyes, not what other people see, but what we see. What defines us as human beings is in how we choose to overcome our problems. That is what defines us it is what helps (along with our faith in our Creator) create the building blocks that formulate the person that we are today.

Service The Corporate American Way

 

Service, have you seen anything resembling it today

Gas, coffee, morning biscuits, factory and office we slave

Ever receive a smile or a thank you for your work today

Drive ups for breakfast and lunch, and of course, wrong change

Hope against hope, correct order maybe one time in five

So many counters your native tongue you will seldom hear

Wishing for a smile or a kind word that might lighten your day

Receiving ignoring, frowns, cursing while on their phones instead

Now unload and reload, give them your money, hurry through the line

Profane gestures and lip if perceived to be slowing their money train

 

Wally-World, when it comes to service taught the world how not to be

Employees catch all the garbage as it flows down from Arkansas hills

At the bottom of the latter with smiles they throw it in the workers face

Take all your money make you pack your own order no time to count change

They got all your money they snarl and hiss then push you out of the way

 

Home at last to enter your personal version of bliss

Kids ignore you, spouse flapping lips, hate received, no kiss

With the world outside their minds, full of hate, home at last

Your cat pee’s on your feet, your dog takes a bite out of your knee

To the basement to your kids hidden Colombian Gold

Aw the flower of our youth, before depression took its hold

Looks like Jose’ Cuervo, Colombian, and I tonight have a date

Service, a six letter word with four letter Corporate distaste

Our modern world, service only given if you pay your all to play

Poor people aren’t even worth throwing their carcass’ in a grave

Only then government and the 1% quit pushing you out of their way

 

Poem: The Wall

The Wall—-First published here on 4-5-14

 

Why do we build, to keep out?

Was not Berlin’s built to keep in?

The Great Wall of China can be seen from space.

Decide what is real

Your reflection in the world’s looking glass

Does it show but one face?

 

Division from the south, but not from the north.

Do you not see your two faces shining?

What do you think your wall will facilitate?

 

The poor of the south,

Hungry, tired, and scared, they come to your gates

Looking for a safe place to build, and work and pray.

We build a higher wall

We tell them they have to wait.

 

From terrorist and drugs, you say your wall will defend.

You wall out your brother, your neighbor, your friends.

How is it you can be so cold?

Do you not know, nor see, nor care

That by your actions you do offend?

 

Do you not think that a terrorist or a drug King Pin

Can enter your haven from the cold frozen north?

Do not speak to me of family values

As children and mothers die of hunger

At the foot of this wall you create!

 

Life Through A Windsheild

Life through a Windshield

In 81’ the story began, first with my brother and then with a friend

Seeing life through a windshield like a gypsy on eighteen wheels

But when you do this for a living it’s life you omit

White line fever they call it in song

White lines on the concrete is to what you belong

The back rows of the truck stops and the cab of a truck is your home

From Beantown to Shaky to big D then Windy you roam

Dispatch can get you a load to anywhere except the state you belong

Driving your shiny KW is not just a job now you see

Through the windshield is your life on this unending concrete sea

Aspirin, Doan’s Pills and Preparation H

Always part of your luggage because that hot load can’t wait

Truck driving is a hobby for the homeless no roots do you need

Life through the windshield is now the life you can’t leave.