Why
Why do I write? Well, let me see -
it seems I have something to say
and I'm happy to show it for free;
I don't require people to pay.
But why would I speak if nobody listens?
Why should I write if there's no-one to read?
To be honest I'd say I require recognition
it seems that it's something that lots of us need.
Reaction is part of the author's profession
it helps us to feel that our work has some worth;
otherwise life is a lonely progression:
a walk in the dark from the day of our birth.
Some people write for the money they earn
- we all have to eat at the end of the day -
for me though it's not an important concern:
I get my reward in a different way.
To know that I've made an impression on someone;
to know that my words may have touched someone's heart;
that somebody's eyes have been opened to something,
that is enough, or at least it's a start.
Anything else I would see as a bonus;
money is nice but not what I'm about;
starving in garrets - shouldn't that hone us?
Don't worry, I'm kidding, I'm not that devout.
But still, all-in-all, I don't need any payment
to make me aware that my writing's esteemed.
If someone can say that it helped how their day went,
that will do me, for it's more than I dreamed.
The Poet's Lot
I should have gone over it in my head
before I ever got out of bed.
It’s gone now, beyond recall
from leaving the bedroom to down the hall.
Words that seemed so great at the time,
full of reason, full of rhyme,
have faded away like they’d never been
and now they never will be seen.
While We Wait
So many different backgrounds
rich or poor, black or white.
Different inclinations
straight or queer, left or right.
All that really separates
the good ones from the rest
is how we treat each other
that's the only valid test.
We all have fads and fancies
and lifestyles that seem strange
but when you think it over
it's ourselves we need to change.
To be more understanding
more accepting, more mature.
We all live in glass houses
and none of us is pure.
Live and let live - Oh I know
it's all been said before.
If only we could do it
there would be no need for war.
Everyone could try to make
a difference while we're here
by being more magnanimous
to people far and near.
Good will is contagious
but so is fear and hate.
The world may never change but
can't we try it while we wait?
Son et Lumiere
Lurid flashes light up the night
while thick dense smoke surrounds us
mind-numbing, ear-splitting noise
vibrates through sweaty half-naked bodies
as they twist and turn
this way and that, seeking escape
grappling and groping, peering through the gloom
in a futile attempt to distinguish, friend from foe.
A battle field? Possibly.
Otherwise known as
Saturday night at the disco.