-What good is more square feet
if, inside, you’re alone,
amongst “yes men” of loitering and conceit—
too scared to earn thrones of their own?
-Gated districts interest me none.
-They’re just a denial of potential unity with fine local folks.
-It boils to, raising a house of fearful sons,
who’ll grow to not fix a world, so broke.
-You can have the fireplace built into the bedroom wall
and can still be cold as frost, while in your bed.
-It can’t bring warmth, at all,
to a passion-starved marriage already pronounced dead.
-You can fall asleep in the canopied king size, with silk sheets of white,
and still be but a mere boy.
-It’s but a meager place for a different woman to sleep every night.
-But, dozing off in a queen filled with loved ones is a far greater joy.
-I don’t want the big pool.
-It’s far too much to maintain.
-I’d rather put such time into keeping my character retooled
than, with relaxing water, attempt to escape spiritual growing pains.
-Flickering chandeliers can’t make blackened souls shine.
-You can’t prevent your seeds’ future tears by having the sound system custom designed.
-I don’t want to “wow” my family or my friends, with marble floors, detailed wooden doors, and bedrooms galore, into loving me or for us to collectively do The Lord’s will.
-I’d rather humbly live out my days
in a cargo container or under a tin roof
with kin and pals, whom I never have to question the intent of their ways,
while jointly investing in health, character, and truth.
-I want the luxury of not needing proof.
“I Don’t Want the Big Fancy House”
is a poem featured my second published upcoming anthology,
“A Pale Face for a Collar: Testimonials of an Office Rat,”
AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE ON NOW!