Wednesday, January 12, 2011

broken...by james robert


he sits on a park bench
just drinking his cheap wine
from a bottle in a paper bag
"no thanks" he says,"i'm doin fine"

he wasn't always like this
used to be a lot like you
with a mortgage and a wife;
two kids and a Subaru

he lies beneath the bridge
in a bed of others trash
wondering when he lost his tooth
and where he got this rash

he had a great, well paying job
and he had always worked so hard
on weekends he would relax or party
and manicure his yard

he eats at the soup kitchen
and begs for change on Broadway or Main
he bathes in public restrooms
dulled by wine to ease the pain

he had always been a pillar
he had seldom missed a beat
now his heart and spirit broken
he's on every downtown's street

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Let's not go there...by james robert

They're altering Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.
To lovers of truth, this is a grave, grave sin.
Do we venture back in time and edit books as we please?
Do we rewrite the past with such great ease?

Rewriting fiction may change our lives not;
to hear Lady Macbeth say,"out darned spot".
Maybe the movies would lose no charm,
with Marilyn Monroe starring in, Some Like It Warm.

Would Mark Twain be turning in his grave,
witnessing again the politically correct slave?
Would the man that wrote, "To thine own self be true",
be turning also, if he only knew?

Are we not venturing down a slippery slope,
where we lose one more battle in lies versus hope.
If this is allowed, cannot more be lost?
Can they delete all or part of the Holocaust?

Sunday, January 2, 2011

So what else is new...by james robert

when the same old same old
is wearing you down
when your face knows not smiles
but it sure knows a frown

when you're up to your waist
in hungry alligators
and the water is filling
your new flood proof waders

when if not for bad news
you'd have none at all
and you're quite sure
someone else dropped the ball

when emotional vertigo
is gaining on you fast
and your present is trumped
by too much of your past

when you Google the word loser
and there's a picture of you
in a dunce cap in the corner
playing an out of tune kazoo

when for giggles and laughs
you're reading War and Peace
and the sun's rising in the west
and setting in the east

when your get up and go
has all but gone
and some schmuck has purloined
the pink flamingo from your lawn

when the world has forgotten
the words to your song
and it's becoming apparent
that you no longer belong

welcome to the race
where all of us stumble
where it's human to err
it helps keep us humble

welcome to a life
that's both good and bad
where it's totally up to us
to be happy or sad

welcome to this gift
that throws us to and fro
to a power greater than all
may we all let go