My Baltimore

Vacation 895

I still carry pieces of the city around

echos of the alleys still linger, flowing through

my soul. We lived in those alleys as children

riding bikes, kick ball, baseball, a broken window

was the worst thing we ever did, an accident

in the winter sledding, snowball fights without rocks.

Row after row of brick houses, giving us stability

while Norman Wells played Johnny Cash

for about the hundredth time, I never knew Jimi Hendrix

until later. The smell of Polish sausages cooking

on Sundays, Mrs. Di Paulo slicing limburger cheese,

carrying Sicily no matter where she went,

while Janis Joplin sang her heart out, but at least

she was alive then. We were safe in the alleys

there was no broken glass back then,

no sign of knives or guns, it was the 1960’s.

It was still the early days, before

the world went completely insane.

               

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

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My Brothers and Sisters

ranch with hills

North Dakota doesn’t have a city,

a ranch instead blinded,

by country dreams of paradise.

I love nature, and the peace,

of a gentle breeze on the meadow,

but I heard someone screaming,

on 2nd avenue,

I think it was Chicago, waking me up,

a broken heart was crying again,

on 1st street, was she ok?

and The Clash were praying loudly,

at the cathedral.

Next door the museum had jazz,

holding up artwork,

with hooks and bobbie-pins,

budget cuts. Almost empty.

Elvis was on Maple Street,

stuck in time,

wild eyes darting, looking,

for the next bus out of town,

bumming a cigarette.

I heard the street preacher,

with his white pit bull discerning,

on East and Main, who needed salvation,

was he crazy?

I started packing sandwiches,

no agenda,

I just needed to get down to the city,

to be with the human beings,

to be, with my brothers and sisters.

 city

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Speak to Me

Indonesia
Indonesia

Please don’t send me another email,

if you were calling from Indonesia

I would answer the phone.

If you were waving from across the street,

I would wave back,

and try to talk to you.

But sending me a message

when I am 5 feet away from you,

in the next cubicle,

is insane.

Please,

treat me like a human being,

and speak to me.

Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Abandoned Barn

I have seen this barn before,

cropping up, decaying monument

grey, old wood, but steady.

No one cares anymore about this life –

working with dirt, sun and rain.

Priorities have changed,

attention has shifted.

from land, to flickering screens in restaurants,

from peace, to hand – helds buzzing.

I like to hear the weather,

but not everything all the time. I filter for sanity.

I truly need the quiet

of the abandoned barn.

 

© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

Farmer

Like so many areas, the area we live in has seen a transformation. The beauty of farms has been replaced with buildings. I realize people need a place to live, but we have lost something. It goes far beyond the issue of what we do with land. We have lost something much deeper than that.

Farmer

I knew a farmer once

who sold all his land

no really I did….

I went there once as a kid.

I remember the rows of corn.

A dairy farm with fields, nice house,

Holsteins, and the milking barn.

It was way out in the country.

Now it’s just the suburbs

of someplace else.

He became a real estate developer,

and sold it all. Houses for sale.

It’s all gone now….

He gets up late,

and he’s a very rich man.

Or is he?

 

 

 

 

© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree