The Monkey’s Ride

by   B. F. O’Connor

Reflections in the mirror of life,
flashbacks to a sordid past.
The emotional gambit, pity’s plight,
the stuff from which reality is cast.
A life of “candy” young free times,
Black Tar clouds, and Mexican Mud.
Bogging the mind and destroying within.
Whether white as snow or resin black –
The face of death dark and grim.

Turning away and finding oneself,
A horror, a ghost, just barely alive.
Realizing the truth and fighting to win,
Wading through the terror and lies.
Winning the fight, without self-esteem;
Struggling back from deaths near grip.
Leaving it all and everyone behind
And starting from scratch –
No needles – No sin.

Copyright © 2022 B. F. O’Connor

The Raging Tide

By brian francis

I walked away from home so early
Set out across the nation wide
I found in sorrow life’s true measure
With just a thumb I hitched a ride
City parks with tramps and strangers
A welcome to a fire’s side
Lurking eyes just beyond the shadows
Swept away in realities tide

I met a welfare lady dancing
Around a bush to praise the sky
Her six kids had almost nothing
Yet bathed in love they smiled wide
She said she saw that I was hungry
And took me to her family’s home
She fed me love by the spoonful
It was like an amusement ride
The ganja gods their mist seductive
Lured me to a twist of fate
a monkey appeared on my shoulders
and always stayed right by my side
Illusions cast a strange new vision
A supple state of unawareness
Neon flowers and melting faces
A psilocybin and acid tide

The monkey used his hands as blinders
So lost became a natural state
Family was little more than a memory
yet hidden deep were seed of strength
I met a man who promised pleasure
And money too it seemed a deal
Piercing my soul to bind my spirit
He carefully spread my defenses wide
Soon it seems my senses found me
And struggled hard to clear the fog
storms wreaked havoc and confusion
and when it cleared I still was lost
the man he said to seek redemption
to call on him when I was through
the monkey said he’d make it better
his claws dug in to stay and ride
Fears and frights soon came upon me
And secrets tore my soul to shreds
Yet I held tightly to the pieces
yearning for some daily bread
Staring out from behind the curtains
Paranoia held me in his arms
Assuring me that they were coming
And ever staying by my side
Somewhere inside a seed had sprouted
And for a moment the skies grew clear
A ray of love some how had found me
To warm my soul my mother’s touch
Strength grew fast in fertile soil
My will somehow had found its voice
reaching out I grasped for security
resisting hard the under tide

I pleaded for some help from Jesus
And demons came in robes for me
Openly they praised the glory
On the altar robes held open wide
Yet in the darkness of their secrets
They stole the very best from me
Without esteem and bound but anger
I vowed to let the monkey ride
I turned away from God and heaven
And danced among the living dead
Waiting for some insightful moment
And dying slowly no heart inside
Then came a voice that brought back anger
And a hand reached out from in the fog
It grabbed and grabbed ‘til it caught me
And pulled me from the relentless tide

There on the beach I found redemption
My eyes were finally open wide
The monkey left and found another
Because he always likes to ride
The storms were raging all around me
Yet my mind was clear on every side
I walked the beach and picked up morsels
Left behind by the raging tide

Copyright ©2021 brian francis

Variegated Digressions

by brian francis

The garden has been blooming
Flowers of every hue unfolding
The verdant stalks and leaves
Jostling for an embrace of the sun
My glory in full display; its regalia

The soil was once stony lifeless
Amendments, turning and raking
Creating a loam — a gardens foundation
Casting the stones to the margins
Lovingly kneading it into condition

This too speaks truth of life itself
The mix is lacking bland at first
Amendments added in the learning
The lessons cast off from those around
Settle on the innocent minds implanted

Weeds too, grow well in unbalanced soil
Lessons that lack integrity root fast
Tapping deep into a being’s very soul
Without the lessons of virtue’s worth
The Ph can run out of control: too acidic

Love an additive to sweeten any soil
Brings balance and soothes the soul
Strengthening the defense’s crenulations
A cleanse to any taint’s warp and stain
Can yet offer a thorny embrace

We each tend our garden’s many rows
Choosing the plant and its location
Learning as seasons come and go
The soul’s continuous edification
We become what we nurture

I’ve seen gardens rife with thorny weeds
The gardeners lost in life’s many woes
Addiction a test of lines one will cross
To attain that which hidden kills
The daily sacrifice on one’s soul

I’ve seen gardens of splendorous beauty
Yet found to be hiding a poisonous taint
Hidden among the green vegetation
Suffering those who visit leave infected
To carry their welts and wounds away

There are gardens too without any flowers
A green expanse of the herb and leaf
The season coming for blossoms and buds
Fruit for the birds, nectar for the bees
Built upon these sun catching leaves

No matter the gardening theory you follow
No matter the time spent on your knees
Pleading for rain, to then fear the torrent
Howling to fall upon this creation of love
Dancing to the wind’s whining measure


Copyright © 2020 brian francis