Street Roots • Oct. 14-20, 2016
Page 13
Poetry
Hole in My Pocket
By Larry Richer
It was just envisioned on another day
It was no big deal
Just another idea for someone to steal
Fallen in the wrong hands
Then it plunged off the market
Now I can seam to sew the hole in my pocket
It was like thunder throne
I picked it up on my own
It was like lightning struck
I did not give it up
It was undermined
It was misunderstood
But it took off
Like I knew it would
It was a high volume discount
She got her credit today
Her mind is on consignment
And her soul’s in layaway
It was a hard pill to swallow
Then I found out why
There is no tomorrow
For all that credit can buy
I’ve been staying up late
Pushing real hard
Sorting through papers
Throwing out business cards
Sanity lingers on threads in the mind
Help me to say the words I cannot find
It was a big bargain clearance
They had to clean up the aisles
With rates of high interest
They can sell with a smile
Got no dough in my pocket
Got no food in my gut
No light in this tunnel
No way out of this rut
No launchpad for my rocket
No blueprints for my plans
Got this hole in my pocket
I can’t meet their demands
The sale numbers projected
Skyrocketed overnight
They have their patents protected
For ownership of your life
Fallen in the wrong hands
They it plunged from the market
Now I can’t seam to sew the hole in my pocket
It was a bad time of sorrow
Filled with financial woes
Couldn’t reason with the bankers
Who said, “We’ll have to foreclose”
She was a tough act to follow
Out on the slippery roads
There is nothing left to borrow
Because it’s all been sold
Trees
By Douglas "Wookie". Mareks
The trees were once all around us
The land was blanketed by them
Then we moved from the pond to this new world
The natives here lived with the trees .
They respected the spirit of the trees
They valued the trees as habitats of nature
Then we started moving in, in droves
Cutting down the trees as we moved on
From place to place, not only displacing the trees
But the natives as well
Until finally we were at the other side
And stopped by the other pond
Leaving emptiness of nature’s true beauty
In our wake
Sure we have replanted some trees
But never enough
I wonder what the trees have seen in all those centuries
Too bad we will never know