Hard Sugar Stars

sweet seminole land
lost to those who came
a fallen Orlando Reeves
left only his given name
to what becomes
a city of attractions
and life
pulse pulse pulse
history now bound and woven
to pages of dusty books
to a place where love can shine
or so we thought
that lone gunman
with whatever hatred came
pulse pulse pulse
a beat a rhythm
where lovers dance and kiss
hatred spread its dense fog
leaving many fallen
ones we will not forget
and share our hearts throuhgout
pulse pulse pulse
hard sugar stars
affixed in the firmament
lighting with their pride
our every day

je suis charlie

in those glancing shadows
of inky truth and pattern
there would be no ennui,

condemn not capitulate

to the bugle call of atrocity,
it is only anarchy
not religion,
that has to be illustrated

by pencil sharp sword

render and portray
a prophets wisdom abused
to generate and perpetuate
a list of abhorrent terror
activated by those
with misguided sense of being

steady hand describes

that no single act
will be unaccounted

a channel for truth

that should not be
a satirists end

#je suis charlie
#je suis ahmed

in the greatness

from his minaret

a muezzin calls,

seeing new light lengthen

into shadows on the streets

as those of prayer approach,

first of five calls

that he never forgot

he served god as a voice,

sound of wings caught attention

a white falcon landed before him

perched on stone edge

head tilted

eyes spoke more than the beak,

voice faltered in mid call

from the remnants of dark

tattered crows flew in

looking for the rejected brother

kaf left behind,

muezzin touched falcons face

communicating

as the faithful below watched,

crows taunted minaret

hollow eyes caught flash

of gold,

muezzin had been spoken to

a journey to be undertaken

to which of the seven valleys

he was unsure,

he had to find the bond and unity

that once nurtured earth

as he had remembered it,

with falcon on arm

stepped down spiral staircase

a purpose found