Wednesday, August 4, 2010










I was not born to look thus
I am not the same
but hope to prove through my difference
the same hero in us all
In a tongue
heard in the Rows
of mediocrity

was I white
covering my indian papa s
dead body
keeping wolves away
for his rest
at most in death

have i scouted sails
To fasten to my timbers
and fly the seas

past midpoint
within sight of collapse
sneaks up on you  
your renown
you Plan nothing
then it is there

would not sigh to end it all
relief in part with regret
no memory
no remembrance

this has all been so ordinary
tried to lighten with breath
the audience never came
never played a part
now all recedes

                          hey you in the crowd
                      what a happy face you wear
                     aint you never been here before?