One Brick Shy of a Load

One Brick Shy of a Load

Moe Seager


I wish I could write poems that
end without conclusion
Poems that wrestle in the nest:
I am damaged goods trying
to justify my passage through
misspelled words and
bad recipes

I wish I could summon the honesty to
Say it, brief and incomplete and feel
So what! it's the fashion I cannot
Fit for lack of insights sent
Outside in the rain spilling
From the clouds in my head
Leaning into a sun day
A night without the howls
Of purple passions
Alone, unwanted in the
Scheme of things that make you
Wholesome, me naked repulsive
Clown for the tourists tell their
Children -" See what I mean".

I wish I could bring us together
A nation of freedom fighters in
Love of Lovers whose cool blue fires
Melt our fears as walls give way
To salvos of the healing kind

Shit, I'd be happy for a taste
A long last dance fluid flows
Stellar dust diamond rings
Round a harvest moon

I wish Peace and Justice for
Neighbors, alley cats, stray dogs,
Lost be found in abandoned dreams
Redeemed in long awaited
Promises of my mother,

And if your heart don't beat n' ring
Mama gonna give you a song to sing
And if that tune don't lift your soul
Mama gonna mend you upright whole

I wish things I know ain't
Comin' no time soon no way
In a world gone angry on itself
Not happy nor hungry for
A picnic in the garden of
Earthly delights ripe with fruits
Sunlit on burning questions
Dripping desires.

I wish presto pronto tout-de-suite
For a revelry of Hallelujah Chorus
In high C jazz 8 time
Blues buried with Robeson's pain
Beneath a monument to human kind
Bloody angels and dirty saints
One brick shy of a load

We're all goin' home now, all
Counted, gathered in a name
Given to life worth living
Death come calling
From the fifth dimension
Come to take us there
No words need said
No acts required
No need to worry
No need to fuss

If that thought don't make you still
Mama gonna give you one that will
And if that dream don't come to pass
Mama gonna make one ever last

I wish you wouldn't scold me for
I always laugh and cry
at the wrong times
I wish I were a singer
The song feels more
Than the poem will ever know.



(copyright,moe seager, 2008.)