I was visiting an old friend, Graeme, on the net yesterday (Facebook) and he introduced me to the singer, Chocolate Genius and his song, "My Mom". I was very moved by the song and my muse began to scream, as she's in the habit of doing. Hours later, the next day, I was driving into town and listening to my Bright Eyes disc "I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning" track #1- "At the Bottom of Everything" and my muse began screaming in my ear that this was the song I was to use in combination with "My Mom" as inspiration to write a poem for Alzheimers and peace. Enjoy...
We’re free and brave and we act as if we’re going to a party on the sun,
An all night party with the moon, the clouds, the planets and our guns…
We act like we’re going to a ball with all the amenities of wealth.
We act as if we’ve got it made- Got our money and our health.
We act as if we’re not suffering and not causing anybody harm
When, truth be told, we’ve got it all so completely, sadly wrong.
We are spoiled rotten and we’re set, so deeply set within our ways,
And we’ll not change a thing until we've killed all the Arabs and the gays…
We mustn’t look down our noses while snorting oil and hurling down abuse
The planet will look as if it’s square and that there’s nothing here to lose.
We think so much of ourselves and we still pat one another on the back,
“We’re number one” runs through our heads but that train is off its tracks.
Make amends while we can and we’ve a chance to save our multi-colored skins.
I say we make it right while we can still recall the names of family and friends…
It’s fleeting, life and all it holds, and can be taken one stem cell at a time;
One transitory instant we exist and in the next we unexpectedly decline.
I say we make the most of what we’ve got riding on this, our grateful life,
Let’s break down the walls of freedom and have the world over for a night.
Let’s bring our laughter and affection and leave all weapons locked away
And just move and laugh and breathe as one and never break away…
We must take hold of this moment and let it swell, let it open deep inside.
We must liberate all the innocents now before one more’s allowed to die.
We must settle our past dues with people we’ve hurt and we’ve wronged.
We must live, we must live, we must live, we must live like we belong…
© 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
(The poem's rhythm could somewhat follow the tune below if it were to be sung...)
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Past our half-empty-truths of an infant history
Balanced beyond the gaze of Lady Liberty
Inundated with the gape of knowing eyes
And the weight of truth under the murmuring sky.
Overwhelmed in our wolf-jawed thinking
So harsh upon our dim view of the world;
A willfully ignorant Plexiglass shroud
Merciless to those deemed an axis of evil.
Or the not quite living shells of our craving.
Have we not urged our soul toward the abyss?
To a reckoning if we ignore the plea of fellow man
And wet not the desiccated lips of our neighbor?
Gazing in awe at the horrific bearing of our despair?
That we are estranged of our creation’s intent
Should give us bleeding thoughts of providence,
Striking our temples in agonizing white-eyed flesh.
The flowers seek out their own seed’s beginning,
Waters time to heal of our most warred commodity,
Give occasion for all nations to mourn their dead
And daybreak to find its way through our mantle of night.
Copyright © 2007 mrp / thepoetryman