Ther Vine Keeper

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Thursday, February 2, 2012

Tomorrow Perhaps

Tomorrow Perhaps

i was walking down the street
where 1,000 gallons of Petrol
is burned every second

people sauntering, commingling
attempting to fill and occupy their lives
with something
and new encounters
yet the day is the same
as the one before
and perhaps
the one to come

some of us have forgotten
the sum of who we are

does any one care about the portrait
the painter
the frame
the canvass
with living vivid colors ?

a man walked up to me
made a common city gesture
putting his slightly spread
index and middle fingers
to his lips . . .
no, he was not blowing me a kiss

but this is what i thought
that he was asking for a cigarette
yet, all he wanted
was a light

all right . . . alright
my fear and my tightly bound selfishness
for that simple 2 fingered action
spawned my reaction,
for this enactment of process
had become my truth . . .
but all he wanted was a light

as i turned the corner on Broadway
life abundant met me
my vision
my consciousness
in a broad way
who could possibly sleep through this
yet still
so many were
talking to each other
and to themselves

stuck in their dreams
and dreamless days
their ways of coping
some hoping
that the self doping would alleviate
them from being lost
and delegate to them a path
many not . . . perhaps

and perhaps the voices we hear
i hear
may be laced with fear
and doubts
and bouts with self

but i suspect, i doubt
that life is simplistically more complex

in the bowels of my own vexations
i saw nor felt the liberation
i vie for
and though i may say “Die For”
i am living for
and opportunity
to cry for help
yelping like a dog inside
from the place i hide

i too am a vagrant wanderer
clawing, holding on
to the visceral strings of my wonder
playing tunes
along with my self created

so while something spiritual in me
resonates with what was about me
the ambiance embraced me
and began to speak to me
now i want to hold on

i pulled out my camera
and began to take pictures
of the busy-ness
to make the assist
in my endeavor to record
the accord
of life

i wonder do they see me
as the oddity
the oddity of a color unique
within this creative expressive painting
of one portrait of life
i see them . . . i see me

there were the vendors of the streets
the lenders quite replete
all giving, offering an option
to barter away their prizes
for yours
and of course
many took the bait

and though some may appear to be
in disdain
at the fleeting joys
the enduring pain
and all the inane, insane
twain the two
i see life evolving
unto it’s self
while we are attempting
the solving of equations
to the situations
we encounter
or not

some are dormant and waiting for sunshine
some shedding their hulls
to rise above the furrows
and perhaps it may not come today
but there is always
tomorrow . . .  perhaps

© 2 February 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.

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