Poetry

POEMS FROM MY BOOK

 'Night Hawk and the Burning Moon' 

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON

94. By the Fabrics

Choices are free,
Decisions are swayed.
Manipulation is fierce
Not being of faith
doesn’t mean disbelief.


Lives being lived
is a weird concept
Lives of many end
as ashes in a
cold burned fire.


Whilst living,
most live in oblivion.
they worry for
finance on material.


They don’t stop
to think of
the one with no home
the one with no food
the one at war
the one with death at their door.
Or the relatives of those.


For the ignorant teen,
the smoker,
the criminal.
Why?
For the fighter,
the liar,
the pessimist.
Why?
for the bitter,
the landlord,
the banker.
why.


To the philosopher,
the artist,
the poet
You don’t matter.
To the leader,
the lead,
the listener.
You don’t matter.


Wrong.
Drowning in shadows
of your own walls.
Swimming through with ignorance.


When you’re ill,
medicine suddenly matters.
You have no bother with police
until you’re in danger.
Ignorance isn’t bliss,
acceptance and knowledge is key.


To the lost work
the ancient,
the tale
I notice
To the preacher,
the follower,
the tie,
I notice.
To the thought,
the feeling,
the effort,
I Notice.
to the person, ever-shadowed by
fabrics of time
I notice
To the brave
risking your being
to protect mine.
I notice.
To the insignificant,
the animal
the creature, I notice.
Without notation,
there cannot be appreciation.
Without appreciation
there lacks motivation,
without motivation
there is nothing.

Nothing.