WE FALL DOWN

We fall down

Get knocked down

Get locked down

We get back up

We’re held down

Get pat down

Get shot down

Enough is enough

Name the reason

It’s open season

On me and mine

First driving, now walking

Our only crime

I lay wake nights

Seeking insights

What’s the future for me

For my sons and their sons

The sons yet to be?

We fall down

Get knocked down

Get locked down

We get back up

We’re held down

Get pat down

Get shot down

Enough is enough

Now we must stand up

Sit in, lie down

Whatever it takes

To change minds, open hearts

Until the cycle breaks  

Now we must stand up

Sit in, lie down

Whatever it takes

To change minds, open hearts 

Until the cycle breaks 

Now we must stand up

Sit in, lie down

Whatever it takes

To change minds, open hearts 

Until the cycle breaks    

We fall down

Get knocked down

Get locked down

We get back up

  

We’re held down

Get pat down

Get shot down

Enough is enough

You say you fear me

But clearly

Something is wrong

You tell one lie that multiplies

After you’ve shot your gun

Labeled other

Not brother               

Leads to a flood of tears

Declared guilty before innocent

Just to assuage your fears

We fall down

Get knocked down

Get locked down

We get back up

We’re held down

Get pat down

Get shot down

Enough is enough

We fall down

Get knocked down

Get locked down

We get back up

We’re held down

Get pat down

Get shot down

Enough is enough

   Enough is enough

       Enough is enough!

 Immersion

I tasted the sun on the tips of my eyelashes.

Its sweetness soothed a soul, soured by disappointments dwelling deep in what might have been.

I wrapped my body in child-like-wonder.

It seeped into my skin and flowed to my heart until it resonated joy.

I emancipated my hair from bondage.

It responded yes to the wind, when asked to dance.

No approval sought from anyone.

I kicked off my shoes walked onto life’s lawn.

It took my soles measure whispering, hello old friend as it flowed between my toes

I listened to the music of the white hawks’ flight.

The notes imprinted on the nights staff, the melody lingering in the space between the stars.

I stood naked in my best dress.

My love for you for all to see, like steam on hot concrete kissed by the first drop of rain.

I slept the sleep of a newborn baby, fresh from womb to first breath dreaming in innocence.

Tomorrow I promise to do it all again.

© Alfreda Henry

Rocket Scientist

Rocket Scientist

Alfreda Henry 05/20/1988

A rocket scientist is what he wanted to be

He knew that since the age of three.

At the age of six, he thought there was none better

Than the man he saw delivering letters.

At the age of nine his only desire

Was to own a plane and be a flyer.

At thirteen, thanks to so called friends

He was introduced to a bottle of gin.

The first few swallows seemed so exciting

But the loss of control was a little frightening

Fear pushed aside because he was a man with power

The pint was empty in less than an hour

Three years later alcohol seemed to tame

He stepped out searching for new game

Marijuana was next on to his scene

Six months later he was a toking fiend

Five years later still looking for thrills

He decided to do marijuana and pills

Three years later tired of pills and smoke

He opened his arms and embraced coke

Powdering his nose was a treasure

No woman on earth gave this kind of pleasure

The cost was plenty he couldn’t get enough.

Could he get this high from some cheaper stuff?

Yeah, cheaper stuff, that’s the tact.

Good-bye old coke, hello new crack.

Of course, the stuff before wasn’t a habit

He didn’t need it really; he just had to have it

Crack cocaine fed on his soul.

In a short time it had complete control

Lie to you friends, your father and mother

Borrow from your sister; rob your brother.

Friends?  That’s me, Mother, Father, too.

Fire me up and you’ll see it’s true

At twenty-six he felt he had to quit

And he knew he would just one last hit

Three days later the neighbors noticed a smell

Is this your son?  The father couldn’t tell

Three days later at the funeral sat his mother

Father wouldn’t come nor sister or brother

Lord, God, tell me where’s my boy of three

And the rocket scientist he wanted to be.

Question? (Alfreda Henry 12/1/15)

Feeling the heavy handed artillery of news agencies,

Engaged in mountain-ing molehill tactics.

Anger infused supplication of frenzy fire feeding

Reductionism of financial looting of the people.

Inciting small-minded thinking of otherwise intelligent people.

Sacrificing the many for the few.

Narrowing focus to one dot on the screen calling it the big picture.

Ostracizing everyone but you or select people who look like you.

Terrorizing with real or imagine reports of terrorism.

Theatre masquerading as news, bad theatre.

Hyped up shopping, entertainment (barely), diminishing human connection.

Environmental genocide.

Anesthetizing the population to raise your bottom line

Numerous pharmaceuticals to treat one symptom ignoring the baseline problem

Sacrificing the many for the few.

War for profit’s sake downplaying humanity

Ego driven life suffocates heart’s voice,

Rows against the tide, calls it wrong and rails at lack of progress

(PAUSE)

Light illuminating darkness

Opens blocked channels.

Vision is heightened.

Envision better life.

Initiate life’s purpose

Sacrifice no one.