Los Angeles Poems

Fame

Tied to the rhythm of a searching face,
Drawn under the freeway of fading lights.
I am in the wrong place
Lead to valleys of hope
Where the Violets are blue
And the Roses just are.

Tried for the glimmer never pursued,
The felony of Middle America.
Taught unbiased
And forced into bleeding ears.
Convicted by few
and mistaken by greed

Beneath the concrete they bloom endlessly sinless
With an eye of hope
And petals soaked with sweet.
Lost in a tidal wave of rebellion
I dive deeper and emerge
Between a rock and the stars.

A Different Soldier

Grandma is sitting on her rocker
Staring blankly at the rain.
Her love rocks blindly at her side
his hand reaches to hers
Attempts wither in pain

Twenty years marking his return
Scars seep underneath her flesh
The monster clinging to her arm
The present skin molded
Today's is not the same breath.

A different soldier
Than the one who fought
Violence bred in a man
once a savior
His freedom was taught

Words froth from her lips,
Tears leap from her eyes.
Life has molded her husband.
He can not see
That life has been his demise.

The Weary

Her feet are three inches off the ground
Tied to her shoes
Like prisoners in shackles of leather.
Her heart is anywhere but home
lost in the scenery,
Faded into her Hollywood flat.
Three flights of stairs have seen her
Come, and go Three inches of sole chasing her heels
While buckles fight for reprise.
The view of Sunset carries her home Her feet to the ledge
Her height makes her proud
The three inches stay with her
As she conquers the world

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