PARKING LOT LOITERER
By Jerit Aaron
What will happen when a dream is deferred
Does it shrivel up and die or still fester
For the one that’s done looking beyond the curb
Having no exit plan like those he serves
No grace for the parking lot loiterer
What will happen when a dream is deferred
It won’t flourish in the hood’s toxic soil
Binges on lows his days losing number
Tortured soul his favorite word is never
All the other dreams he has to spoil
What will happen when a dream is deferred
When its highest honor is to never tell
Even abuse of runaways he’ll cover
Plays his part as parking lot loiterer
He knows in these streets everything’s for sell
One foot planted the other holds up the sto’
The one foot planted has dug in its roots
Deep down he knows he can never let go
Of his pipe dreams and his look out block code
Thus, 5 days a week he is on his post.
STREET LIGHTS ON
By Jerit Aaron
Haunting flicker’n; “street lights on!”
Stars, beautiful twilight
Poorly maintenanced apartments
Starts to transform at night
Across the way houses protected
With cars parked on the lawns
Bars on windows; children playing
Moms say “time to come home”.
Rumi’s Advice
By Jerit Aaron
Yesterdays was yesterday’s gone
Another week that was
I fought with everything I had
It’s as a warrior does
I thought that I could change the world
With all my wit I’d lose
Like all else that thought this way
Our ego’s were left bruised
I fought and fought with all devils
Another’n another
Lost track of who is right or wrong
Each one was my brother
A fight I knew I could not win
Today I became wise
Fighting in the greatest struggle
Choosing to change myself.
If Poems Could Speak
By Jerit Aaron
Don’t sleep on me, I am a song
New school don’t feel my flow
A little slow, it be like that
When they hear I’m a poem
Poems be like, you gone leave me out?
The original verse
Poems about warriors and soldiers
Right in your Bible verse
Poems done shed blood and have bled
Been active since day one
Like the infant’s heart fighting to beat
Their first breath, a poem
Don’t sleep on me; I am your theme
In the roots of your song
In your rhyme scheme of highs and lows
You ain’t know, I’m a poem?
Poems be like; you gone sell me out?
For freak dancing strangers
When a poem strips the soul bare
In view from all angles
Poems grapple with life and death
With the realest lyrics
They just not gone give you the pain
They tell how to heal it
Don’t sleep on me; I am too deep
Your very life; a poem
That you have yet to speak or hear
Please do, before its gone.
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