Poetry
SUCCULENT SOUL
By Lori Karpay
I was walking aimlessly down a crooked, dampened sidewalk when from the corner of my eye I saw a man just lying down. He stumbled and fell upon a slatted, public bench and found the front page news to blanket himself from the pouring rain. I just had to go and stuff five dollars in his pocket; after all if I had kept it I?d have lost that good karma.
I wish it was contagious, to pass good fortune to the next guy, then we?d all be in good shape for the coming genocide.
My dreams are getting harder to see become a reality and my hopes are being challenged by the bullies in D.C. My heart is heavier than I ever would?ve dreamed, but my passion just grows stronger; injustice can?t bully me.
Sometimes the paths are covered and to sweep the dirt aside seems such a task for just one man; seems easier to hide. Eventually, the path is filled and the murky waters bathe the once placed bricks that led to peace ? instead the overlay is spread across the surface so the truth is buried far below. It just shows how crazy life can get when crazy people run the show.
I saw a woman floating, or barely on the ground. She appeared to be translucent when she came forth to sit down. I thought I saw an angel, but I don?t believe I did. I believe instead that what I saw were my ideals staying hid. And just then the man on the bench got up and walked away. He stumbled left and sashayed right and hurried someplace else. He was on his way to a brighter place, a painted park bench up the street. When he wakes he?ll start his day by finding his new spot where he?ll again find the solace that he knows too well. A place of his own, a place he?ll call home until life offers him more than defeat.
The past can be forgotten, but the present?s a constant thorn when people try to cheat and lie, the results are left forlorn. Now and then I watch the sky and translate the billowed clouds; I?d so like to stow away on a veil heading any way out. Whisk me high upon your cloud and carry me any way out.
Carry me yonder and away and forever far from the thunder. Carry me to gentle rays and to the seas that are folding under. Enrapture me and envelop my soul with certain potency. Smother me with rest-assured and wake me if I plummet. How about making room for another and bringing the homeless guy. It would do wonders to his heart & mind to wake up in the sky.
DANDELION
By Rhonda Jay
He blows my destiny away in the wind
Each thought of him floats
With its tiny parachute
And I am more than food
For the early spring bees
When this bell jar girl takes flight
And he is more than a man
Falling off the clock
Who lands on light in the dark desert
He is more than an ant from the hand
He is my destiny
In this world of shifting sand
I’m a chapel girl a hummingbird
Melting like silk in his embrace
And I have lost my head again
One thousand parachutes
Carry my thoughts away
MY HERETICAL STICKER-LESS BUMPER
By Lori Karpay
I was driving down the road one day when a car did I come upon.
That car had a question pasted on its back for me to ponder on.
It asked me if I ?Got Jesus?? and my head became thick with visuals
just imagining the hero of the New Testament and the
manufacturer?s residuals.
And I thought, ?No, I don?t got Jesus? and I doubt that you do either.
And then I wondered where Buddha was hiding and where?s his bumper sticker?
And then I wondered just how much the retail guy was making
on all those who feel compelled to make me read bumpers while I?m braking.
The mobile personality boards just ramble down the road
with messages plastered from side to side and on rear view window glass.
It seems that everybody else wants to tell me where to put my faith and how to think,
when on my own, I?m perfectly capable of deciding what I believe in.
Stopping by some convenient store just to get the paper,
a man opened up the door and welcomed me to go in there.
And as he graciously held the door open to beckon me inside
he chanted a verse, a psalm I believe, as if he were ordained.
I wasn?t sure whether or not to thank this great imposter
because I wasn?t exactly sure just what his true intentions were.
So I just kept walking without really talking and I found what I came to buy
but just then, someone blessed me again and told me I?m going to heaven.
I?m okay with what I?ve got and maybe I should listen
but bumper stickers mixed with religion just aren?t my position.
In fact, I find it all too funny and concurrently disturbing
when a company is making it big by folks who need reassuring.
Can you imagine, if there is a God, what this notion is thinking?
To look around to find its name throughout town from cars to billboards,
in brain-storming sessions in sweatshops and shelves in Christian bookstores?
And what?s more is the guy who?s making the buck?.I keep going back to that?.it seems completely nuts.
Maybe it?s just me?..maybe I?m the nut who can?t see past the buck, can?t seem to grasp the thought that people will pay whatever it takes to sway the crowds to their thinking way.
Perhaps I?m the one who needs her head examined
?cuz I can?t seem to jump on the wagon
to sell my views and make the means justify the action.
Dunno. I?m just going to crawl back in my car and head towards the highway
that takes me far off.
I?m going to watch for the bumpers claiming I?ll save my soul if I?d just take Jesus as my savior- as if they really know.
Enough of this sermon?.I?ll step down from the pulpit?.I?m through with my preaching?anyways, my life?s already half-over.
So if you see me in or around my car, just leave me be cuz? I?ll be happier by far.
I?ll be the one smiling and content to be me without the reminder that I?ve funded some capitalistic need.
Off I go, clean conscience in hand, my pockets are fuller that I can share with some unfortunate man.
MOTHER NATURE IS THE TERRACOTTA QUEEN
By Lori Karpay
Another restless night, another smoking gun ?
Another lonely fellow, forever on the run.
Another piece of soul being hung out to dry
?cuz right in front of justice he?s been spoon-fed lies.
Among the darkest beasts sits our weakest intentions
They have nothing left to do but to hear our confessions.
With hands over ears, the voices seem to fade
But truth be told, they never go away.
Crazy aspirations can make simple minds a mess
With little toleration to simple happiness.
And when bleak interpretations spin the head around
Just twist your neck a little and your head will spin back down.
Once upon a blue moon, you?ll glance up at the sky
And realize that most of life is just a coaster ride.
Sometimes it?ll toss you and throw you from your seat
And other times it seems to stop and makes you want to weep.
Anyway you see it, the carnival?s a treat
Crazy possibilities just lying at your feet.
Tasting all the treasures, picking at the feast,
The endless smorgasbord of personalities.
Dusk and dawn draws the line of all else in between,
Murky observations of the terracotta queen.
Clay formed masks to hide the face of harsh reality,
Seems like such a waste of time to hide what?s barely seen.
The moon sheds life to shadows in the darkness underneath
And the shooting stars cast light to the uninspiring.
Happy is the man who finds his soul in harmony.
It takes a perfect stranger time to grasp the mindful being.
Greenish-blues and brighter hues leave eyes in disbelief
Such beauty is unheard of in the world of muddled sheens.
There?s no place left in heaven for the fake apology
To live this life in overt truth is to live life openly.
The roller-coaster ride is over; the crowd all but disappears.
When dawn reminds the dusk it?s time to rest, it?s time for dreams.
The sun shines brilliant orange and the seas that vivid green.
Tonight I hope the moon will shine for the terracotta queen.