Category: Poetry

Mine is an arc of redemption & not the religious kind.
As I’ve grown, I’ve honed my eyes at cruelties; to which I was blind.

Here, I share the wisdom of many failures & achievements.
Hard won joyful journeys & inevitable bereavements.

Life has wins & life has losses; both of which are better fair.
Sometimes they’re not & it’s down to us to strip injustice bare.

Employ your moral compass to weigh the wrongs against the rights.
Inform yourself & trust your judgment; lend empathy to plights.

Is youth really wasted young or is that ungrateful aging?
I cannot speak to other’s lives; but growth’s my secret wellspring.

Feed your compassion, lest ye lose it.
Live love before the next big blues hit.

Open up your fields for those with seed. 
Leave the porch-light on for those in need.

Is helping others rise worth the cost?
What does equality mean you’ve lost?

Leave no room at the table for hate.
Impose an even & fair mandate.

Humanity grows when we dare to…
Yield to learning from things that scare you.

Every life rides on rails built for, & by, us.
We take to the tracks in order to bypass fuss.

The ones laid down in infancy are permanent.
We lay new & spur lines…we grow & we augment.

Yet, though, our origins are inescapable.
We steam ahead to anywhere we’re capable. 

Each new age, & stage, deploys routine trips & back.
No mind how far flung we chug, we’re still on a track.

The trick is mapping every border that you find.
 Be aware; where you’re not & where you’ve yet to wind.

My every childhood dream is simply there for you.
Mine were simple basics & for you they’re givens true.

What you know to be the norm was not just so for me.
I witness your journey & rewrite bad history.

In gratitude, I replay childhood; through your new eyes.
You’ve been a hard reboot for me…also nice surprise.

A welcome shock to see good nature & good nurture.
For either, I’ve fought the dark…just a lonely searcher.

These concepts weren’t new to me, just a foreign land.
I’m honored to have walked upon your soil, hand in hand.

The time for undiscovered countries will, soon, be yours.
May perspective light your way to advantage lined shores.

When I wake give me a breakfast lighthearted.
Just a small chuckle to get the day started.

Please, give me the same as a cap on the night.
I like a little snicker to scare off fright.

My day’s full with so much routine ritual.
A repetitive slog; life habitual.

Why not begin each revolution smiling?
Greet your sleep sanguine when it comes beguiling.

I have done this for years to get through the rough.
Laughs bookend my days whether easy or tough.

Dancing on my back in a bathtub full of glass.
Rend the hump & hardy flesh of my back & ass.

I could wish for pain to take a day, or ten, off.
I could wish for a better fed spot at life’s trough.

But, I’m not wasting any wishes, or curses…
Not over things that still inspire my verses!

When my days are done, you will inherit some things.
Not money or land, nor any precious gold rings.

I’ll leave music; I’ll leave laughter for each of you.
I’ll leave you tears & I’ll leave you words that were true.

In total, I’ll leave the heart & the art of me.
Frankly, I’m jealous of the lives heirlooms may see.

A jellyfish does not have a spine but they can kill you all the same.
So, I’m a little confused when “spines” are mentioned in a conflict’s claim.

“Manly men” are mystified as heroes with spines of iron rebar.
But iron melts, under friction’s heat, & cowards fear it’s lava scar.

So, any blight that comes by night can smelt the bones of every “man”.
Then, who will smite the evil sprite that muddles our mettle where it can?

It is not the fight that makes all right, draping blind justice in fresh blood.
It’s the harvest we yield, after wars, from fields; where marrow soaked the mud.

Though, it’s better still to work the mill; away from pastoral terrors.
Angry lines won’t open minds & free softer hearts from toxic errors.

Sometimes, I start a verse in bed, as my synapses fire down.
Jotting down a couplet of non-sequiturs leaking from my crown.

I’ve lived my whole life with my head in heaven & my feet in hell.
So, who knows? I may go either way; at the hour of death’s knell.

But putting aside mythology, I’ve resigned to just exist.
My high art mind & problem feet provide my poet’s heart much grist.

So, when I wake, I tally the words that zoomed past just before dreams.
Among the random mess I’ll find a piece that just needs stronger seams.

So, I sow words upon the blank & sew until the pieces fit.
I guess my point is…”random seeds can grow into full-bodied wit”.

I’m done missing people that did not stick around.
Those who volunteered to be lost & never found.

The proverbial handful proved dependable.
The rest & I…mutually expendable.

Though, sometimes, I do wonder where & how they are.
I will not go investigating; near or far. 

I’m near & not at all the same as I once was.
I myself am ever changing, just as one does.

Growth serves us well & I truly hope they’ve changed too.
Of course, their core the same; but mostly someone new.

It’s a sad & stagnant choice, when nobody grows.
Bitter hearts still stiffly fighting against life’s throes.

Better, not to miss someone…Best, to just move on.
Don’t feign kinship when you see recognition’s dawn.

Everyone now has their own cult.
This is social media’s result.

Life for approval & freezing time.
Sharing your life; but only in prime.

What’s the payoff for moments frozen?
Does strangers’ love make you feel chosen?

Yes, I was there for the race’s start…
Putting my horse just behind my cart.

But, I edited down to joy’s spark.
No followers, no cults…just a lark.