Words felt

Finding Freedom What sets a man free? Is it when from his sorrows he can flee? Is it the sound of chains falling- His heart’s plea? The hope of a new day? Like that of a cut-down tree? Or is it the head-on facing of trepidation? The hard, sweaty, painful way? The blasting of walls to find a way? Is it? Or is it the letting go to a calling? That of being held and not holding on? Of being carried up, up and away? Like a leaf in a windstorm? Or is it the sound of chains falling- His heart’s plea?                                              James Kaluna

The third man The first by my right The second a little behind In the middle I walked  Like a sheep to be slain Around and around, I stared and stared Plea in my eyes, distress in my heart ‘There’s three of us!’, The first declared, ‘Pay all you have, Or this syringe goes in’ Around and around, I checked and checked For a third man, that had so been announced  The syringe I didn’t mind, for his pressing arm I never cared But only for him, the third, my trouble  Shaken and rattled, I stood like a twig The streets raced by, the two they left My pockets empty, I’d given all I had, For fear of a third man, whom I never saw.                                               James Kaluna  

Methinks Methinks it’ll rain Soft drops beating down Cleansing for my brain Salvage for the old rusty town Methinks the sun’ll shine Beautiful rays glaring  Creating smiles yours and mine Making us brave and daring Me knows the rain’ll be too much Me knows the sun’ll be unbearable Me knows they’re lies But they’re lies I like, they’re lies I like.                                           James Kaluna