original poem "to sissoko and segal 'ma-ma'" by mike obrien
originalpoem on a piece of paper towel.
"it wasn't everyday the sun came through again
warm street, warm heart, warm sky and yes warm skin
we look for answers but we settle for the partial fix
it's rare to find somebody who can rectify the roots of it.
things are tangled in a place that eyes cant see
and hands cannot touch, a place no voices speak.
And in that place are tangles tensions and pollutants
that slow us down a lot its more that just a nuisance.
Who has the method which can smooth us out internally?
Who can guide us back to port when we're adrift
in stormy seas?
You try to wing it, take your issues to a specialist.
But they don't really ever understand the full predicament.
Even so the spirit ind and body are resilient.
We carry on at times, though, even when we're just not feeling it.
Expectations swarm and swirl imposed down by society.
We shrug em off as best we can so we can try to be
a little freer healthier and more conducive
to the flourishing and cultivation we can live with"