Words by Frankie James
The Pursuit of Happiness         

Dreaming and wanting took me to the jungle,
Caribeaño is what you are now.
No longer in the shadow,
The dome fades from site.

The house still stands divided.
King George is killing the world.
The beaches and bars are my only friends,
And boys are in love with Tina.

Cut the lawn ever two weeks,  
Paint the house a fresh coat of yellow.
The fire ball has full control,
American paradise down the 95

A Mortgage or rent,
Both look the same to me.
Do you really own it?
Windows break everywhere.

A pack of cigarettes everyday,
The payroll is never enough.
Loews is how I invest in the future,
But now he wants to stop pretending.

A crushed man the Copa healed me,
A new dream has begun.
Tens dollars found on the patio,
Follow me home my hot Latin Lover.

Momma died and Uncle Buddy is lost,
The oldest siblings are full of rage.
They hate themselves so much,
Young ones don’t even matter.

The Redneck took to Florida,
Her fledglings broke down the door to get out.
The organizer is quiet yet not gone,
Her boys watch over closely.

Of seven came many,
A third generation continues.
The poor white trash haunting lingers,
Remember your people in the Big House.
Melvin and Judy are waiting,
Though my favorite is fighting her own.
Dream boy has a new job up north,
And packing is something I do so well.

Positive now, I know my path,
Love me and you and them.
Atlantis is gone but the shadow is back,
The Beltway sings to me once again.

Contentment is the only matter,
Many in world want even just a little.
Along my path have been riches,
Albums full of photos not digital images.

The shadow of the capitol is there once more,
And the king has lost his power.
A women now says she knows the way,
My pursuit has nearly ended.

The snow is melting,
Geese fly north over head.
My heart races and the days get longer.
I am nearly home once again.

Silver Spring, Md - March 2007
Today, She is just a little older.

Born on this day in 1933
A little girl entered the world, but no one could foresee.
She grew and grew and tough roads were her's to follow.
Love was deep inside her, now that you would see.

The family she made continues today.
She had kids of own, lucky seven was key.
Raised to love, care and grow, what yet to be.

We all share who she is and live by her ways.
"See the world, be yourself, listen to classical music."
These were her words to me always.

We are her children, we are her glory.
"Listen here, you are the best." She would scream "Hey!"
That was forever, her story.

Like good wine in a dusty bottle, you are today,
just a little older, only better that way.
Happy Birthday Betty Rae.

Rockville, MD - January 1, 1988
He couldn't always stay.

The one I loved could not always stay,
But I remembered I might see him again on
Judgement day.
He heard his call, "Come home, and come
home to stay."
Lord Almighty called my father one day.
The Lord had already planned the way,
in which direction I was to stray.
And now I know, I will one day,
See my father again on Judgement Day.

Harvest Temple Church of God
- April 1978
The Bus

Apart we stand, distance between us all.
Around the corner it comes, the Bus.
To speak is to try and dare to live.
Across that line many times I want to go.
No its taboo.

So many faces.
People should mix, we should share.
This Bus is fun, control the people.
Do as you're told. No Problem.
No one is to be one.

They have us. We need them. Do they?
Trapped is a better word.
The Bus, the suburban slave.
Toxic high thoughts, affordability.
The big save money dream.

We all go back to work go back to work.
So many, yet all the same.
A grove of Aspen mixed with some Oaks.
Some strong, some small, some tall.
Others bend with the wind.

Hating the bus makes the problem worst.
Do as you're told.

Forestville, MD - August, 1983
He turned to me...

There came a time in my life,
Lost and pain was the way.
My heart was in strife,
I didn't want to say "hey."

Thanksgiving of all days,
To the Copa I went.
It was not a wife you see,
But a good man that was sent.

In the corner alone
I watched and I stared.
Was he interested,
I hope but did I dare.

After a stranger he walked,
Ok then I thought.
As the night came to a close,
We hadn't even talked.

Looking up at the porn,
wishing it was me.
On my way home for a puff
To sleep alone, woe is me.

Right then a huge smile,
Dark curls and big eyes.
Mine at least for a little while,
Out of the blue, it was then and forever.

He "turned to me" and it was a good day.

Silver Spring, MD - June 2007
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