THREE BOYS FROM KENTUCKY
 
There’s an old black and white picture in an antique wooden frame I have hanging in my room. Don’t know if it’s really a photograph or a picture of one!
I can only speculate.
 There are three boys sitting on the back porch enthralled with the other little boy’s voice! I would guess that they’re somewhere around the ages of 9 or 10 years. The picture looks like it was taken eons ago in another place and time somewhere in the back hills of Kentucky,….
but I really don’t know – I’m just speculating.

A couple of childish games
A couple of laughs
A couple of tears
A couple of stupid mistakes
A couple of outgrown fears
A couple of rebellious and daring times
A couple of disappointments and lessons learnt
A couple of fine lines and crows’ feet on your face
A couple of worries and heartbreaks
A couple of inches to the waist
A couple of loyal friends and fun memories
A couple of greying hairs and senior moments
Death then dust.

This is the only time when we are excused for becoming blatant fools
Basking in happy madness
The only time to be totally wrong and swear that we are right
Despite all odds and instincts
And just follow the fickle inclinations of the heart
The only moment before the time
That this feeling would become a mere sickness, a drag
So that we could move on with our lives
Leaving hope and the thirst for more lying dormant in our hearts.  

(The work day is over and the night life begins. Lights focus on the stage.Camera... and action!)

A woman sings in a lone contralto voice(she holds a broom in her hand sweeping to the rhythm.She is the opening act.All the other characters stand still,the light focuses on her.)

Eyes tired, varicose veins but she still sings while she shakes her backside to the satirical calypso

A man who sits under the village shop joins her with the strumming of his guitar

And the tapping of his feet in staccato.He scats.

I sat there in a bar, a half empty glass in hand, tilted

Fourth one, actually

Swishing the liquor in my mouth

Like everything else in my body my tongue had grown numb

The taste of rum no longer makes me coil

Like my life,  the surprises have become anticipations and correct assumptions

I looked down at the coffee stain on my tie

Consequence of rushing out that morning but not out of eagerness

For duty, but to what?

A man who sat next to me, sighing in disbelief

I want to run away,

As I look at you I can no longer explain

The anger, the hurt, and emptiness you have cause inside my soul.

I no longer know you

I no longer fall for you.

I once thought you were the one,

The only love for me ,

You took by breath away,

Now I just want to run away from you.

You used to bring smiles to my face

But know you bring tears that just don't go away

Here I am send me

I'm willing to blow myself up and all those infidels to smithereens

What for?

To go to paradise of course.

Where's your leader?

Off hiding in some cave laughing hysterically.

So where are you now?

I'm dead and rotting.

Here I am,send me.

I done kiss my mama goodbye

I'm gone fight war for Uncle Sam 

What for?

I dunno, I think is to stop terrorism and to make my homeland and my mama proud

Where's your leader?

You lie

While she listened with the forced pretense of being naive

Even though she was pathetically transparent

You run away

While she pretended not to care

She hurts inside even more

Though you never knew

Don't worry about the mess that you made

She sits in the smouldering remains of the fortress that she once built

Someone will clean up this tragic aisle after you

Eye sore with my third I

Enough to make the stoic agonize and struggle in their slumber

Thoughts foaming in the heated cauldron of their minds

Words jumping up in a frenzy

Pricking the tips of their tongues,

Just waiting impatiently to be let out into the open

Like unruly children

I have become that resonating voice

That you've vainly fought to place into

Evanescence of your dead conscience

The shadow that you dare not look at

For it mimes your evil actions

Life is filled with misery and sorrow

Why can't you accept it?

And cease trying to be a fearless hero

But an ego trip you've gone and you try to mask it.

Whose life are you going to save,

When there's no ransom on your head?

But yet you roam on this spherical grave,

Surrounded by the living dead.

Gloating over the small feats you've accomplished

Undefeatable wars,visible,are raging but you carry on so ignorant

Soon to foolishly perish