Poetry

Poetry

The Music of Life

Life is so complex,
Like the rhythms and melodies of jazz.
It’s ambiguous,
Always open to interpretation,
Constantly moving and changing, like the syllables of improvisational scats.

Each hour marks a line
Which all compile to create each day’s song:
Sometimes fast,
Sometimes slow,
Sometimes upbeat and jubilant,
Sometimes moody and melancholy.
The lyrics tell your story.

The situations, tasks, and events of the day are the notes.
You embody an instrument that plays accordingly.
Some days you may be at the top of the charts;
Other days you may not even chart at all.
Nothing ever really stays the same.
That’s the joy of opening your eyes to a new day.
One never knows what lies ahead

So when you get right down to it,
Life is a series of albums that detail
The colorful phases of your growth, development, and experiences,
All of the hits and misses,
All of the highs and lows.
That’s the music of life.

©2012 BuddahDesmond

 

Gone Too Soon

Battling,
Fighting with the world everyday,
Trying to stand firm on ground that changes like DC metro area weather,
Not knowing when it’s safe to be you, or when it’s best to retreat:
It’s safer on the inside—sometimes.

The golden era ended quicker than you could comprehend.
And you were thrust upon the audacity of disgust and hatred
From people you thought were your friends,
People you thought were your family,
People who said they loved you but you just can’t seem to trust.
You’ve walked a line that many people claim they can handle but couldn’t, even if humanity depended on it.
It’s a line that you don’t want to walk.
It’s a line that often runs faster than the speed of sound and light, with a soundtrack that repeats daily.
And you’re tired of hearing it.

Living in a world where people get high off of ridicule and bullying,
One is left numb,
Not wanting to deal.
The help you need never arrives when you need it.
It always comes too late.
You push and push,
And push and push.
And you keep pushing,
But the force always seems to kill your spirit.
It was at first a temporary thing,
But the period of death began to outlast the periods of rebirth.

There’s a lot that you can and have dealt with,
But it’s the pain and its lasting effects
That cut you down to nubs,
The hurt practically defying man’s comprehension of depth.
If you could only find relief,
A sweet release from it all …
If only …
If …

The inner light quickly fades.
Time halts,
And you succumb to a place
Where your spirit will forever reign.
You’ll be safe from harm and healed
From a lifetime of pain.
If only it didn’t have to come to this.
If only …
If …
You’d still be here.

If only …
If …
You could’ve been saved.

©2012 BuddahDesmond

 

Tonight

Tonight there will be no deaths,
Just jumping cities of light,
Jubilant crowds,
And our guardian angel—Joy—will be working overtime to ensure we all have a good time.

Tonight there will be no war.
Ominous clouds will give way,
Towns will break free of evil’s stronghold,
And the goodness that lives within mankind—our world—it will illuminate.

Tonight there will be no tears.
For our eyes will see the glory
Of a true promised land,
Where harmony isn’t only found in song,
And the people are proponents of eternal peace.

Tonight will be a reprieve from so many nights of senseless madness and untimely loss,
Renewing our sense in a world where faith is never doubted and the respect for
all things living never waivers.
Given these times, hope remains strong
That tonight won’t be a passing fad or memory,
For there’s no reason why every night cannot be like tonight.

©2012 BuddahDesmond

 

Prevail

Blocked,
Stuck in an emotional and psychological rut,
Someone or something hit the switch;
Everything faded to black.

My world seems to have lost its colors.
Maybe I need an OUT OF SERVICE sign,
Or maybe CLOSED would be better suited for my situation.
Lately my own world is more like a prison.
The little light that comes is immediately replaced with clouds of worry,
Raining doubts due to several seasons of mistakes
And occasional storms of depression.

Feeling like a swimmer
Stuck in a race he can’t win,
If I don’t think quickly
The only choices are—literally—
To sink or swim.
I don’t want the finish line to be
The ultimate end.
I want it to lead me
To more days in the sun.

Gotta get out of this
Losing streak,
After being down
For so long.
I’m determined
To prevail.

©2012 BuddahDesmond

 

Luther Is Love

In tribute to Luther Vandross

Luther—
Or Loofah, as some of us called you—
Still in denial about your passing on,
Doesn’t seem real.
Gone too soon,
But never, ever forgotten.

Luther—
The silky smooth voice,
Flawless,
Full of passion and emotion,
Consummate artistry and professionalism.
A rare commodity,
Especially in the world of contemporary music.
You will remain in a class all your own!

Luther—
Exemplifying class and grace on and off the record.
Media seems to want to “out” you now,
But whatever your sexual orientation, it wasn’t and isn’t an issue.
Media also seems to want to make a big deal about your weight,
But that was just as insignificant with us as well.
It’s the contributions you made that matter;
It’s who you were as a person that matters.

Luther—
You sang in a way that made us feel like you were singing only to us,
Expressing all that we were feeling.
It was a musical connection that became deeply personal and spiritual.
You’ve touched us in so many ways.
For you, we are forever grateful.

Luther—
You spoke of love in all of its splendor.
You are the balladeer of love,
One of the greats.
Your music and spirit will continue to move us eternally.
You will always be loved,
For you are love.

Luther is love!

©2012 BuddahDesmond

 

Politricking

They’re up politricking on the hill,
Taking lobbyists’ dollar bills,
Claiming they keep it real,
When they can’t give us something we can feel.

They make promises they can’t keep,
Forgetting that what they sow, they will reap,
Lyin’ to themselves and others to get a seat,
But when it all falls down the incumbent will get beat.

Your approach is haughty and self-righteous.
You come off cocky, act like you’re the second coming of the Messiah.
So sad—people caught on to bullshit,
Discovered you were only looking out for personal interests.

You’ve got it bad and that ain’t good,
Got the nerve to say you were misunderstood.
You give politics and government a bad name.
Liars, thieves, cheaters, adulterers, and politicians—
People will say they’re all the same.

You’re oblivious to the people you represent;
You act like this is a game when it’s a commitment.
You constantly cut and run and confuse the masses with doublespeak,
While your quest to save moral values has only divided and made us weak.

The time has come,
And the people see you for what you are.
They’re ashamed they let you get this far,
But when the time comes they know exactly what to do:
Find the next best thing and get rid of you.

©2012 BuddahDesmond