The red of Carolina mud
runs thickly in my veins
all its rebellion, all its stains.
But this is just a part of me.

For I was born in Tennessee
it's sandstone lies here deep within.
It forms, perhaps the bones of me
as rough as stubble on my chin.

Though years have turned me lame and bald
and added pounds to creaky frame
leaving far too many friends just recalled
I'm left mediocre without fame.

When the evening comes
Everyone is moody
but only the stars in the sky can tell
of my kind
When the insects whistles
"The birds are silent in their nest"
And men are noisy with their nets
throwing in the 45cl seas.

Catching up their vibes
While the feeling lives in me
Starring at faces of different colors
But their smiles justifies the tales of joy
And the reasons still the value in my thought.

The corn is green and tall and thick,
its field is long and wide.
There certainly must be some trick
to growing such a place to hide.

Deer likely lie within its shade
as they ruminate and think.
Perhaps they recall fall's loves made
how rutting took them to their brink.

And starlings in their weaving crowd
spend days there eating what they will,
fussing, talking confused and loud
not leaving till they've had their fill.

Still alive with all these chores;
Cleaning windows, sweeping floors,
Washing, dusting, folding the laundry
Is there no end? Is there no boundry?

The day winds up, I'm still alive
the poetic elves are up to write.

My life so lonely my eyes just wanna close
Only myself to blame for these paths I chose
Never ask for anything never heard me complain
I walked through the fires I still feel the pain
I except you Lord in Jesus name
New life already beginning to unfold
The past is gonna just be a story never told
New start without even a single dime
Nobody can put shade over my new shine
Realizing now life is just training course for what's to come
Time I stop hurting myself and smile stop being so numb

Toting jeans hanky and chaps
thin man rubbing solo band
harmonica in two hands
airing throat commands
guitar metal stands

hoovering crowd
boogie down
snapping loud
sip'n SanGria

rubber band
brother man
roughly fingering
street melodies
coins stroken
bucket notes posted
feather dusting
bass guitar
footing the bills.

I walk upon a lonely hill
Its soft song echoing in my fragile ears
Radiating past yesterday’s sorrows
Its frigid hands grasping mine
Longing for a place to call home
Longing for me to whisper
Back
Into its bestial hair
For my feet soon plummet
And my legs soon follow
Falling deep into
A cascading waterfall of stones
Comforting my broken bones
As the waterfall had once flown
But how that fall has grown
As it sits on an ascending throne
On that hill that is so lone.

like a cardinal
in a world of white

your heart
in this frozen place

you are a fire
with wings

the painter's
favorite color

Van Gogh's yellow
or Picasso's blue

the top point
of the golden triangle

at least in my world
you are the star