The Piper Will Lead

I looked down
upon bloodless eyes
saw a tremendous town
wing-shaped in tinctured skies

Bright fall walls
the backcloth of something brand-new
sensing for primordial telephony
of contextualization, intelligence

I could hardly, conceive my pondering
fingers wrapped in gold inlay, idle on stone
coldness fluent in all aspects of life
plate subordinates to the statement, this ink we scribe
...built on thought, reason, and taste...
the craving of powerful mortals, of arrogant men, desperate
to the cloudy waters below...

Has time no heading, that it cannot see upon reasonable uncertainty
that this pregnant thought has brought us to maimed soul, a declaration of umpteen teardrops....

I wonder how our world could endure such ferociousness, that it cannot labor daring peril... forsaken all others for the hungriness that spans within its own selves...

To lay down arms, shields, the rock of the universes
its rationalizations, its comforts so needy- but mere traps
for all others to consume...

Technology has brought us upon hard-boiled times
taken us on one of a kind rides, on magical residues, and spread our minds thin...
...tiny pieces calm down above crested, crusty clouds- where rainbow once hung... waiting for a bright smile, and style no one else could forgive... luxury times- sleeps on pillows made of hatred, stone cold feeling, emotion over-flowing with passion.... a fiery circle of lust- created by the thirstiness of wombs lost, dreams scattered about Boulevards stricken with disease, and mustard grins of fellow gentlemen...

As dawn falls, so does the reasons of rhyme... singing hymns lost under miles of soil... we bare truths favorable by times way...


...People running to get to the podium, the realm of morrow, the end of day, the hour of forgiveness... Hath' no bounty submerged itself within... there is this lady who whales on absent stairs, stars shut down... when a hole forms in little hearts... God has left this door open, so that he may enter- and fly gracefully.... away... Goodbye my Angel... be well... love all those who see'ith no beginning, and embrace the changing of life....

(c) by Karen D. 2o11

the Name's Jazz

I wonder...
if it has completely,  been torn to pieces

the name... the color of its true page...


We use to
work in fields of cotton
thorns cutting clear to bone
blisters, blood-sucking masters


We never did enough
always cried more... till one day-
we threw our souls in the air
said that is it... No more


No more met we got a beating
paddled down the river till we reached
our cells- a casket dipped in honey
those darn bees tore us to tears


To make matters worse
they threw salt in our wounds
said they had to teach us a lesson
made us cry the blues
like morrow would never come


I beat those stinking bees down
covered them with sweetness
the kind of kindness that kills
mimics a wise mans ego, ya know


they said they ain't seen no man
run so quickly, as Master himself
running from honey bees cant be pleasant
I wouldn't think...


I ran too
fast as my feet could carry me
I never went back
not even for a peek


I married me a woman
had ten youngins...
each had a name
raised them to respect
even the hated people
Ain't no sense in dreaming
of gold, and sweetness
if there ain't no love involved


Ya know... I learned something
way back when...


Learned there is no sweeter love
than that which is received above


(c)

Bare My Soul

The music plays...

...in the background of my heart

I swam in magics memories

promising that I'd leave it there

...so, now I bare my flesh...

to grow, in the breeze of salt

stinging the pores of my hide

over barren-less terrain

Taking in the wind, the trumpets

chello, and violins....

Capturing everything in my palms

...residue leaving its tears, unwinding

confidence throughout the universe...

Every time I hear the music playing

...I bare my soul, to all the world...









copyright material... not of use- unless written permission is obtained for sole purpose of educational material by author... Karen Dewitt (c)

Urban Relations

One day

I came home
pa he in the parlor
 watching The Jeffersons
 he said go in the kitchen
got something for you

I walked in the kitchen
smelt' ham-hocks, and cabbage
cooking, pa he cooks sometimes
when he know I work hard

On the table, two packages lay quietly
they were calling my name, open me
wrapped in yesterdays news, top articles
Carefully, I removed the clothes-line rope
 used as a ribbon, and bow...
 The big box, it had a fancy dress, and shoes
a pretty hat, and stockings, a purse to boot

I didnt understand... didn't I make a good
daughter, clean, and cook for my pa, Why is
he sending me away... Wasn't I good...
I ran into the parlor, said pa... why...
he told me open the small package, then ask why
I tore into that small box, and found a Greyhound
ticket, one way, to my dreams...

Why pa......
am I not a good daughter...
I take care of you good...
Why you want to send me away....

You my babygirl...
but, the Lord he calling me child
Can't keep the Lord waiting...

But pa...
I don't want to go...
Not ready for you to leave...
I love you pa...

Babygirl...
he calling me, its my time, I gotta go
your dreams, they calling you...
its time for us both... to go-

I don't like this pa...

Babygirl.... its not for you to understand
for the reasons are not clear...
one day...
when you have babies
you will do the same thing...

For now...
chase your dreams
encase your soul with love
finish what I began
make me proud...

My pa... he know best~

(c)