Hello, everybody, Stephen Lynn Nicholson here again in Jackson, Michigan. As always, support prisonradio.org, support Prisoner Creative Arts Project at the University of Michigan- great people doing great things. I call this poem, Stardust, for a very good friend, Tom Gorvachow. He was in prison with me, since been home, takes care of his mom. Great person. So this is for Tom, not my dad.
Stardust
I want to be a star, like dust out far.
Can I still love and be loved when shining so bright?
That sacrifice of life can make life hard.
I’m far from an animal, man.
I’m no longer animalistic, man.
But in prison, I might be a mirage.
But hey, at least the state states to the public face
That I’m no longer a danger at large.
This American landscape makes me wonder, makes me ponder-
Should I plunder the rich and give to the poor?
Should I be the lightning crack to crack back
At the attack the elite unleashed with things like crack?
Might I be the sting that society needs?
Robin Hoods rise up and speak truth to power
Instead of being thieves like the elite,
Even if we creep and sneak their excessive treats.
From the cradle we rocked, through life we rocked,
Until death, and that rocked.
All who have happened to come across,
Rock, rock, rock around the clock.
Rock and roll is not the point nor the goal,
But to overcome death’s hour
Seems to be society’s underlying initiator, motivator.
Motives understated as midlife crises
Push us toward running from mundaneness.
Madness ensues if time becomes something
You run from or run to.
Can we too come back to a time before time
In order to write our story anew,
Still never throw away what we go through.
As fire creates thoroughbred truth,
Helping us to speak truth without oppressing youth,
Because their time and experience of life matters too.
Two times two is four, and we two,
The number two must fight for the number four,
A time when God’s will
Will supersede our will for a thrill.
Say hallelujah! with a trill when you scream praise
In the rain to the One who reigns above all things.
Even our treasures of mothers and fathers falter
In the shadow of thee, Father,
Who gathers us all under His wings
Like a mother hen gathering her chicks for eternal feeding.
When Jesus is speaking,
I’m eating.
His word is food and real good too.
Stardust.
These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.
