Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Just A Man



I’m just a man,
nothing more,
nothing less;

I’m not a hero,
not a role model,
not your latest celebrity;

I’m not your cuckold,
your whipping boy,
or the butt of your stupid jokes;

I am a man,
nothing more,
nothing less.

I don’t dance
and
I don’t sing,
but I will write you a poem,
but only if you want the truth;

I am not perfect,
so stop expecting me to be;
I fuck up,
just like everybody else,
some days,
even more so.

But I am here,
until you tell me
to go away,
and then,
I’m like the wind.

I’m just trying
to put one foot,
in front of the other;
just trying
to keep
my head above water;
just trying
to
make it to the finish line.

I’m just a man,
nothing more,
nothing less;

There is no other way
to say it,
and there’s no other way
to acknowledge it,
so there you go…
nothing more,
nothing less.

© 2012 Joseph Powell

Monday, March 05, 2012

Remember When We Used To Sit...

I'm watching water flow by
in the marina just beyond,
while listening to Marley,
singing about sitting
in Trenchtown yards;
am thinking nostalgia
is a strange
and beautiful thing,
as I'm reminded
of sitting in
south side playgrounds
near housing projects
that no longer exist;
sitting, often playing,
sometimes dreaming...
of what?
I wish I could remember--
maybe it was enough
that I was dreaming;
it meant that
I was moving forward,
it meant that
I wanted
to be somebody,
that
I was somebody
as Jesse said,
as the Bible
of the storefront church
I went to, said;
as my mama is
still saying,
in her own unique way.

Yes, Bob,
I too remember when
I used to sit
in government yards,
but not quite like
the ones you remembered,
but I do remember when;
pretty sure,
I'm not the man
I probably dreamed
of becoming,
but I still became
a man,
and I still became
somebody,
who still
remembers when.

© 2012 Joseph Powell