Tears
I have seen the tears a single mother’s eyes
She was crying at the politics that prevented her from the good life
Or at least simply a life that was half-way good
Her tears flooded the hood
Drenched the future
Washed away the positive hope that was attempting to be born
She was eager but torn
Between trying to be politically correct
And trying to protect
Her own dignity
Her own pride
Her own integrity
Her feelings inside
Finally
She illegally attempted to purse a can of Similac
Looking over her shoulder as she jammed it into her backpack
Because it would not fit into her tiny ripped purse
What could be worse?
Only her getting caught
Stealing a can of Similac for her baby that could have been bought
Only she gave into the politics and lost her religion
Gave into a bad decision
And now her babies will suffer and see
That their momma wanted to, but couldn't be
That mother who provided everything
And we just continue to sing
Dance
Juggle
Run races
Open barbeque joints
Overlook tear covered faces
We just keep
Passing from hand to hand funding opportunities
Focusing on spinning rims instead of spending in our communities
I've seen the tears of a single mother
Left to turn left instead of right by a frustrated lover
Reaching into empty air
Crying rivers that fail to find folks who care
And we dare to mention the budget to sore ears
And we squeeze funds for our highly regarded peers
But what about that single mother
She won't be vacationing in Europe or on the beaches of Jamaica or Spain
It's more than plain
Can't we change?
Can't we feed our singles mothers?
So they can cope
Can't we re-vote?
Or revoke?
Yes, I've seen the tears
And now my tears combined
Are rinsing away our chances
Cut the political dances
Let’s stand still for a moment
Because the last dance
Could be the last dance
That turns off the music on our childrens lives!
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Who am I?
I am the poet who sleeps only minutes in order to stay awake in your mind
I am your wasted time
Trying to get your attention
I am the one you rarely mention
Yet always think of
I am the poet that caused you to fall into love
Into hate
Into sex
Into celibacy
Into insanity
And then back into the solitary confinement of your own mind
The mind that gave you permission to allow me access to your precious time
I am the last bill you paid
The check you made
Your memory that fades
Your dreams of Bentleys and Escalades
In fact, I dream for you when you are too lost to hold a late night thought
Or when you are too afraid to dream for fear of getting caught in the reality slot
Who am I?
I am the poet you wanted to keep away from your heart
Out of your political realm and pushed forward to the end
So my vibe wouldn't interrupt your start
I am freedom thoughts ready to free you from the incarceration of the world?s ways
I am the poet who monitors your days
And then closes them with poetry that you needed to hear
Who am I?
It's clear
I am really nobody, waiting for somebody like you
To feel me!
COPYRIGHT TERRY MOORE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Photos by Ray Johnson