By Dwight Hayes

Like a conscious coming to an awareness.
Submerged underwater,
I broke the surface and
The fluid drained from my ears.
I could hear sounds,
Like a pneumatic hammer pounds
Against concrete, and then it stopped.
I was born, and all was clear.
I could see Mother.
Oh, beautiful life, I love you so much.
I must go back
From whence I came.
This my destiny, I mark the time.
I regret the leave and unafraid accept
What must be.

*   *   *   *   * 

Oops

                        By Dwight Hayes

Over populated cities.
The homeless seek shelter in streets,
Alleys and subway stations.
OOPS, there is another one, sleeping in a Dumpster.

City life has run him stone crazy but nobody cares.
When he passes by us,
We ignore him.
OOPS, there is another one,
Shadow boxing as he walks by me.

Here people act crazy rather than normal.
Did she fail to grasp the consequences of living?
OPPS, there is another one
She walks alone and, talks to ghost.

Wonder if a dollar will bring back their sanity,
Cure their hunger, and ease our conscience?
OOPS, there is another one, and another one, and another. . .
Listen.

*   *   *   *   * 

An American Drumbeat

                            By Dwight Hayes

Remember him, the drumbeat

Our sorrows
Taste the joys of today

Children praying in the parlor
Hear the music
Sway

Two of the greatest dancers
Make perfect fandango
They could come together forever
And stay that way

But we never danced to the music
Got out on the floor
Listened close to the children
Count the beats to our door

The cities are restless now
Meet strangers, movie stars
And trying to make drums beat
Like factory cars

Copyright ©2006 Dwight Hayes  http://dwightwhayesms.zoomshare.com