soft grumbles

I don't have to hear my baby cry
to know he craves for food
or that he wants a warm hug
on a cold, cold night.
I know what is and what is not.

I don't have to taste a mango
to know if it's sour or sweet,
nor do I have to cut myself
to know that a wound
immersed in brine hurts.
I know what is and what is not.

I don't have to see the tears
to know that not all dreams
come true making men
miserable all their lives.
I know what can or cannot be,
I know what is and what is not.

I don't have to hear wailing
to know hunger exists and lingers.
I only have to see children
with open palms, begging for alms.
I know what is and what is not.

I do not have to witness a man
manacled with strong chains
being dragged into the corner,
beaten with truncheons
or bombarded with water cannons
to know that there's injustice.
I know what is and what is not.

I don't have to smell the land
bathed in blood to know
that your greed can only be sated
by my sweat and tears,
I know what you can and cannot do
I know what you will and will not do.

I don't have to see the sun
to know it hides behind
dark clouds on a stormy day.
I know what is and what is not.

I know I can't go on whining
and do nothing about it.
I know it's what it is
snd not what it's not.

rolly

Ending the Beginning

This is no place for an old man.
The steps on its stairs are too high
for knees weakened by weekend walks
with friends in the park.

Raucous laughter once shared here
with former allies,
was a harmony to his once sharp ears.
But friends have gone away
and everybody sees him
as just a decrepit man.

Nobody knew the songs he sang.
Who from among these kids
would have heard of Carly Simon,
Or Paul, much more, Garfunkel?
"Guys, do you know "The Who?"
To this they'd ask "Who?,"
Of course they know the Stones,
But to them, they're dinosaurs!
Or even Ozzy. But he's more
of a freak show now
"What about CSNY and their
Suite Judy Blue Eyes?"

He is the odd man out
and they talk behind his back.
He couldn't help it.
The wall is not a sieve
to strain what it hears.
His almost deafened ears hear
the murmur of the wind.

Yes, this is no place for an old man.
This is where one learns.
This is where he tested his skills
causing guffaws when he erred,
earning him praises during triumphant times.

It's all over now.
All that is left for him is to retire.

Now, the real work begins