All those things you said to me that
Weren’t true, I wish you had just
Kept your mouth shut instead of
Confusing me, leading me on,
Making me think something more
Was going on than realistically was.
Words can sound so good but
I found out they can’t always be
Trusted, or believed, if they’re
Coming from someone like you,
The person I thought I could trust
More than anyone in the world.
My world
Steps out beyond skin
Casts away creed
My kind
Is your kind
We are all the same kind
My language
Matches yours
Though we speak obscurely
We code the same.
Skilled excavation masters
Giving unknown years to digging
Truths till, disfigured beyond recognition,
They stand as the world, in applause,
Greets and gratefully thanks them
For the great skill of making things
Lose the original lustre that, in truth, they held
Once before, through years of masterly strokes, coats
Of new paint in perfect alignment,
And emergence was true of truth, the world,
In great admiration, liked to own and give,
Making the deserving the due that was never for them,
Taking away from them their golden laughter
To bury their heads in pride that adorned their sly faces,
Brilliant as they shone in the consciousness of a guilt
They only knew was true and never acknowledged.
dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile
your name so unique
I swear
your eyes so sweet
I swear
your lips so soft
I swear
you are beautiful for me
I swear
without you
the world is too little
I swear
Where this willow stands
Was the site of the murder
Of conscience
Thus it weeps broadly
No care for passersby
Where young life was strung
High and dignity stopped.
Clear as a night sky
Fresh as the air
Blowing through
Our dreams
You’re the one
I think of when I
Awaken in the morning
And before falling asleep
Together there’s no
Horizon we can’t reach
No mountain too
Imposing to stop us
Come with me and
We’ll live a life of
Joy and passion
United in bliss
Unrest in the university campus
everyone creates a rumpus
some are arrested
some molested
the university castigated as the worst
when it is the best
you people will never learn
to catch the guilty
you high priests of authority.
Protestors marched on Wall Street
opposed to abuses
of greedy capitalists
wallowing in luxury,
while millions lose jobs, homes,
hope for the future.
Demonstrators were clubbed,
pepper-sprayed,
forcibly arrested,
unheralded heroes
speaking out for many,
supported by few,
destined to defeat
by hirelings of the rich,
elected legislators,
appointed bureaucrats,
serving the wealthy,
forgetting obligations
to a suffering nation.
More at http://www.garycbeck.com.
dedicated to my best Romanian friend Vasile
your voice
is the most beautiful music
in the world
I adore you
Their worries are theirs
With none to take a call
And come to console or care
With full details in hand
On what has ailed for long
And what could heal or help
Only to let them learn
They are different and lowly
And every way they must
Wallow in misery and wants
With pale faces and sunken
Eyes and bellies to the back
Pasted in a curious way and
Arms stretched to beg alms
From the very people whose
Pomp and pride are these
Lowly people’s charities only
To acknowledge which the
Heart of gratitude and love
Is utterly lacking to the
Dismay and disgust of all.
Only if once on a fine day
Those charities are heeded
And the choking guilt is out
To recompense for the loss
To those forgotten masters
Doing them a good turn due
For long perhaps in some
Little degrees service sure
As needed would be given
To steal away their worries.