J Maher
By
Opal Ingram
The Photographer
I regulate those snap shots the walls within the one that no one
wants to hear about the past struggles in the deep, the victories
the light, I walk through the valley
the painted signs the torn up streets gentleman with their briefcases,
ladies with their bags I sit in front of the cafe sipping on
straight black coffee in its tiny cup
I see the face of every race the strange
the beautiful the different I regulate those snap shots
I see the dresses and the hats fill with laughter and good cheer
some fill with fear but I see the beauty the
walls within I see the steps oh so tall I see the painted signs
I see the university I see the park.
I see the monument oh so grand I walk through no one should ask.
The other what you thinking?
I sit my glasses so clear birds are everywhere in their existence I sit
besides a stranger lonely is present but I feel the warmth.
I see the pleasure the sun shining bright,
the skies clear, I see the children playing in the sand I see
the swings fill with smiley faces
I see the man playing the guitar
Who does not want to hear.
The drummer across the way
Drumming away.
I regulate those snaps shops
I am the photographer.
The Journey
I travel up yonder way
Near the valley below,
I look over the
Mountain top
I stare through a tiny glare,
My eyes became teary eye
I had the same dreams as my
Ancestors before, they look
From the same ship aboard
And rail road track afar
Some stories painted in stone.
Some taken from rail road philosophy.
Carried on our backs.
Paths of yesterdays
Of only thoughts convey.
I saw the rain
I saw the moon
Beneath the wind.
The sky it was misty
And gray the moon pass
Through like a shadow
I stood tall. In my journey
My soul kept quiet
I felt pain
I travel up
yonder way
Near the bay
where those who pave the way before.
Victory
Way.
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