I’ve been the champion, been the tramp
Been to mansions, been to camp
It is the circle that we make
That causes us to love or hate
If your circle seems askew
It’s not to who created you
So know you’re more than what you think
The drops of knowledge are free
to drink
broken spirit and wings,
this bird no longer sings.
forgotten are the days of intoxicating flight,
replaced with the fears of another fight.
this was a day much like any other,
but this time the lightning force of his punches created thunder.
through watery eyes and rain-stained glass, she began to see.
as she molted transparent skin and grew thick feathers, she prepared
to flee.
like embracing the change of seasons, she embraced new insight.
she learned her own husband made her wings less bright.
visions of the sun on her back as she soared above the situation
gave her the perspective to no longer tolerate victimization.
you see, this bird can't be caged; her wings are too bright.
her mind bends bars as she exercises foresight.
i know because she sings to our kids every night.
fly, baby, fly.
In the state of the color red
In the springs where the camels
kiss and a rock stands on end
The Cheyenne warriors’ cave sits
at the foot of the peak looking
over us all and praying for peace
If there ever called to war
Mother nature will cry
bleed and live no more.
This poem is about Cheyenne Mountain, in Colorado Springs, Colo.
Sister to Brother
Sister to You
When I see you on the street and
I look at you with imploring eyes,
it is because my brother is homeless.
When I see you on the corner and
you see the pain in my eyes,
it is because my brother is an addict.
When I see you sleeping in a doorway and
you see my hopeless expression,
it is because my brother is mentally ill.
When I see you at the library and
I give you a smile
it's because my brother can be very kind and loving.
When I see you in your car and
you see contempt on my face,
it is because my brother can be rageful and abusive.
When I see you waiting in line for food,
I wonder where your sister is.
What kind of turmoil is she in?
What has she done for you?
When you ask me for help and
you see confusion in my manner,
it is because I don't know what to do.
I am looking to you.
What should I say?
What can I do?
For my brother.
For you.
When my dog died
I cried
When my goldfish died
I cried
When my turtle died
I cried
When my brother died
I cried
When my boss died
I cried
When my co-worker died
I cried
When to my Dad I lied
I cried
I talked to dad about my plight
He said from life don’t take flight
He also said, show me a man
who never cried
And I’ll show you a man whose
heart has died
