blessed is the child who lays
her head tonight on concrete
for hers are the streets of gold

blessed is the man who begs
each morn on 5th & elm street
for a banquet will be bestowed…

on the mother who would cry
herself to sleep if it were safe
at night for her to close her eyes

her sorrow will be turned to
laughter
on the day that death has died

blessed are you when others
hate you, defame you
because your love don’t look the same

as the love for me
that I don’t see
but they continue to claim

hear this declaration from the plane
pockets deep now with riches
will be laid in shallow graves

bellies full of food and laughter
will be left with nothing
like those they’ve cast away

~wwb

*Inspired by the Sermon on the Plane

selective memory
trade you this for that
remember when the earth was flat?
i’d run with you
till we both fell off

collective sensory
was it so compact?
lost in any means of contact
lie here with you
till both our souls are lost

her face obscured
by the fire side
lost in a part of me that died
breathing in
all the life she had to give

we’d face those fears
with shallow pride
lost in a sense of self that’s tied
to fragile lives
that were never ours to give

~wwb

if i could speak at the speed of thought
have a cent for all the time i’ve bought
or just be the me you think you’ve lost
maybe i could see this through

if i could see past the hurt i’ve caused
or just let go of all the time we’ve lost
if i could believe in freedom at any cost
but there’s some things i can’t do

i’ve chosen to swim in this sea of loss
and i’ve hung my head upon this cross
what heart will i throw my arms across
when there’s no one left to run to?

so i’ll push you till all strength is lost
so fucking kick and hit and spit across
and i’ll paint a me that’s free of gloss
in hatred’s darkest hue

but that will never do for you i’m caught
you somehow see the me you sought
and this other me that i have brought
is something you see through

and all these nights that i have wrought
for the death of a life we’ve forged i’ve fought
to make you think it’s all for naught
but nothing could undue

love’s gentle hue, as you gaze across
and there’s a sunrise on my sea of loss
you lift my bones from this old cross
like when it all was new

i’d say you saved the me you sought
and give you praise, for i once was lost
beneath a heart so hard and fraught
but that would be half true

you gave me, me at freedom’s cost
by waiting for me to seek, you sought
and i’m better now than the me i lost
since you let me come to you

~wwb

watching the fire burn and I yearn
for anyone to just hear my story
stomach churns and embers burn
where are you? my morning glory?

gone with the sun-set and I fret…
that this may be the only, time I get
to tell the story and fall from glory
and the dissidence of this subset

my pericope, my enemy, the only
story that I may really ever know
the death of me, the rest of me
lying, but inside, I am  dying slow

~wwb

what do you know about this struggle?
what do you know about my trouble?
it all fell apart just to keep me humble?
nonsense you dispense and mumble
i’m watching my whole world crumble
vindicated excavated ‘neath the rubble
one day, i’ll be; for now i see double
vision blurred since the world tumbled
and you fumble for anything convincing
had my attention and i was listening
tried to crush what was left within me
my day in court no one to defend me
except for my righteous indignation
investigation in light of this situation
of god’s vision or twisted imagination
curse and die? i’m close to reevaluation

~wwb

I was born in this and can’t pretend this
life hasn’t had me feeling strife since
the start of this back in 19 seventy-shit
you wanted it, you asked, and you got it
when its yours its never what you wanted
but you take what you can & you flaunt it
just like back in school some hid some taunted
and we hate where we come from still haunted
married to this shit too late for annulment
so I bring thee the newest installment
death by death its societal inbalment
cradle to casket we all get our ass kicked
send me up the river in a wicker basket
come back swinging and lead’em to freedom
death and tragedy none of us can cheat ‘em
so eat em up and spit em up out loud
outcast in the crowd outlast the proud
get up and get down just trying to make a sound
that might still be heard or felt from the ground
when they lay me down, maybe its profound
maybe im crazy or lazy or just easy to astound
or maybe it’ll change the world when read aloud?
so it was written & im spittin on the face of today
walk this way, speak, spell, say, pay to play
dealt this hand i’ll stay till the day im called away

~wwmfb

Just another white-trash
Pseudo-intellectual
Read me like I’m textual
Touch me like I’m sexual
But can I be either to you?
Arrange me in a canopy of fantasy
Like the pin-ups in a young boy’s room
I assume societal positions in your mind’s eye
Fulfilling mother’s dreams for you
Will you leave me when you wake up?
Or will you follow through?
I’m not the cream of young girl’s dreams
… but maybe I will do?

~wwb

We do not belong to this world,
But I belong with you.
Our love is like the petals rising upward,
for the world to view.

We do not belong to this world,
This puddle of blue and green.
The heart of love’s yellow hue reflects the sun,
In this world obscene.

We do not belong to this world,
But we need be here now.
To bring color to the loveless and broken,
And maybe show them how:

They do not belong to this world
This pond that seems forsaken;
And love thrives in the stagnate waters,
Of every picture God has painted.

~wwb

integration or disintegration
as the rains beat at our back
no room for quiet hesitation
hemming us in giving us zen
as we describe our longing
for some far off destination
our reservations, deviations
if we give into resignations
the night lays her body down
with smoke and cold libations
longing for the hour when
we need no false presentation
honesty has made us then
her crowning station
all we ever wanted when
we were alone no explanation

~wwb

Did Isaac wonder as they wandered
“Have I made my father proud?”
When he trembled ‘neath the knife
Do you think he laughed aloud?

Always wondered as I’ve wandered
why you’d place this yoke on me?
Named for the one who gave you life
and stole in the night your dignity

Was Jacob told when he was younger
that he was destined to deceive?
When his name was changed to struggle
Was his broken heart relieved?

Did he tell you when you were under
that no one would ever believe?
So long I’ve looked to be set asunder
From the name you placed on me

Did Ishmael wonder if God listens
when it seemed father never could?
In the shadow of the favored one
stands the dark son, misunderstood

It seemed all your best intentions
would have alluded me for good
in the shadow of the damage done
how could I have understood?

It was your way of healing
when you gave his name to me
The guardian he never was
is everything I’m determined to be

~wwb 4/27/09