Untangle my World | Poem

Untangle my World Poem

My hair is tangled
as I run my fingers through it
and I hold it out from my head
to cut or brush
away my loneliness.
Armed with just my brush
to untangle my world,
the tangled hair
catches the bristles
as I brush the mess
for a moment
into smooth lines
in the mirror.
Even curls can’t
cover the furrows
in my forehead,
in my soul,
but I try
because I must try.
We must try.

By David Michael Jackson

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It’s Not Over ’til It’s Over | Poem

It’s not over ’til it’s over in New York, Kentucky
It’s not over ’til it’s over in California, Kansas
It’s not over ’til it’s over for the homeless
for the blacks
for those in cages
for those behind bars
for the soldier
It’s not over ’til it’s over for those without insurance
It’s not over ’til it’s over for the nursing homes
It’s not over ’til it’s over for the nurses
for the doctors
for the sales clerks
for the workers everywhere

It’s not over ’til it’s over
for an old man,
afraid to go out.

David Michael Jackson