The Spotty Pathway

 

Should the days end tomorrow

for the eyes that look ahead

Where should be no greater sorrow

when they see demise instead

 

I look and I see little future

but that is as it has to be

I speak of my solitary ending

the culmination of all that is me

 

It’s the end to my existence

I don’t look for future glory

Some way out of the inevitable

or have hopes in an endless story

 

But sadness is my constant companion

because of what was not done

Not for self-glory or esteem

surely not for the solitary one

 

Instead I see it as failure

events that predict no conclusion

When there is forever a choice

and direction is lost in confusion

 

It’s just the things I would like to finish

some started and some never began

Even if it was a fruitless endeavor

no winner but an also-ran

 

But years take on their toll

things change and chance is nil

Life will end for everyone

even for those with an iron will

 

Although bitter sounding is true

it is not my intention to be

Life is there for traveling

for life is there but to see

 

Barbara Blackcinder

 

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The Throne

 

I feel as though I’m sitting in glue

Or perhaps some kind of molasses

It’s hard to describe my state of being

How uncomfortable and sore my ass is

 

I’m comfy and warm this is true

But that is unsettling besides

Because it conceals the unpleasant state

I sit in while it hides

 

I speak of course of a state of being

Where my mind is in fact

While I’m happy I suppose

There’s joy that I have lacked

 

I sit and watch the world go by

Happy to miss much of it

While I stay in my comfortable place

Eating food and taking a shit

 

What I missed I will always know

Some good and some bad

Many things I’m glad to pass

And still some good times were had

 

To face the truth of yesterday

Is saddening for what it is not

But seeing ahead what won’t happen

While I sit on my ass and rot

 

As it see it from my fur-lined throne

It is all a broad compromise

Seeing what comes and goes

Through clouded and fading eyes

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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His Eyes Are Blue

 

I looked into his eyes of blue

But couldn’t see past the outside hue

There was no focus, no real view

He wasn’t seeing out to me and you

 

He was lost behind the clouds

Seeing thoughts and hidden shrouds

His ears were deaf to my beckoning calls

His senses were stagnated by walls

 

For he had gone to the other side

No comprehension, he didn’t hide

It was his mind, its fertile zone

Within his mind he was all alone

 

He had happy thoughts, you could tell

He would smile, and frown as well

But there was no connection there

Those eyes just continued to stare

 

We lost a friend to everlasting time

He had found something very sublime

We cared for his body as it was stilled

His mind was racing and seemed well filled

 

Try as we might there was no flow

We couldn’t see, we couldn’t know

We couldn’t enter inside its wall

A friend had left us, left us all

 

Barbara Blackcinder

 

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Tubman and Douglas

(in response to a letter from Douglas to Tubman contest)

 

Our hairs are curly

Our skins are black

These two features

Neither of us lack

 

But courage is another thing

Of which the two of us may sing

Praise of each other is due

But from without is another thing

 

We fight the battle at the risk of life

Either of us may succumb in an instant

You in the woods, myself in town

Your silence saves you, instead I rant

 

We live in fear of racism and hatred

There is plenty of that about

Our cause is just no matter our role

Our call must someday be raised to a shout

 

We must know that someday

Our efforts lethal but honest

Should be outspoken loudly

This inhumanity we must detest

 

We will not in our lifetime see

The repeal of this evilness of mind

In a thousand years hence

Bigots and racists we will surely find

 

Barbara Blackcinder

 

 

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The Offering

 

She offered me a prize; I could see it in her eyes

Tantalizing though it was, I felt I had to pass

Woe to me, for my thoughts I came to realize

She was only offering a little bit of sass

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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The Little Girl

I have a silly young girl in my yard

She runs and runs and tries real hard

I make no sense of what she is saying

I don’t need to know what she’s playing

 

Sitting a swing forward and then astride

Her quest for fun is not something to hide

And so I watch passively as she grows so fast

My only regret being that it can’t and won’t last

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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The Lasting Impression

 

No more, no more shall I see that face

No longer will I see it smile

Actions made that will not repeat

You have been gone now for a while

 

It’s all those little things that last

The way that you do like no other

A smile that suddenly appears

A body not like just another

 

Sure it has its pain intertwined

With a happy, gleeful vision

It is how I choose to remember

Though clearly not my decision

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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