Category: Poetry

Why, oh why, have I lived my life so intensely?
Do I have to feel all of it so immensely?

Does my every heart string belong to the world?
Why’s my heart outside me & nerves always unfurled?

I’ve lived fast & I’ve lived slow; I’ve even stood still.
Yet, the flow of my empathy’s a humming mill.

It’s easy for some to turn it down; even off.
But, I can’t find the dial; so, I’m always on quaff.

I’ve kept frail peace with the draught of humanity.
Gulping joys with sins…in a play for sanity.

Can’t sip from a waterfall…but I might still try.
I’m quenched unto drowning; but at least I know why.

I know water is life & we all must have it.
Plus, I just can’t conceive of a xeric habit.

We live in the memories of those who know us.
They repeat things we said that wrested their focus.

A one-liner here; a witty opinion there.
I will live on in a nameless cognitive flair.

My mind is my garb & my words are my garden.
I’ve sewn & I’ve sown, so my me will not harden.

Please, tend to my blooms & hand what’s left of me down.
Take me with you ‘round the world, or just about town.

Yes, I augment; but my color’s indelible.
Change is healthy…but consistency’s tellable.

Here is the ride I’ve been waiting for, here at my door.
I know I can step up to the occasion, & more.

Letting all of the negative slide off of my back.
Join in the fun & be yourself-there’s nothing you lack.

Here comes the swell again; so climb up onto your board.
You can take on anything; using love as your sword.

Everyday is a chance to see it all in new light.
Open up your hearts & let the day burn into night.

Remind me of this feeling when the waves crash again.
Every crash brought me to where the new rise begins.

Clean & stitch up your own wounds & choose the shape of your scar.
Unhealed trauma can fester deep, seeking out hearts to mar.

Tucked away in bubbles, I guess, what’s real can be your choice.
Though, breakthroughs cannot be confirmed without a second voice.

Life’s too short for rabbit holes unless they feel like magic.
Jumping to conclusions based on biases is tragic.

Cast wide nets, when data fishing, don’t just keep drilling down.
Racing to prove points at depth fails; clear vision will embrown.

Don’t look deeper than light can prevail, lest ye brought a torch.
Still, what you find might oxidize at ultra violet’s scorch.

Have an apple at my burial, a fig, a plum, a pear.
Let them bounce upon my shroud & surround me in my lair.

There should be bulbs as well there, yes, & not the electric kind.
In between layers of my earth; tubers, corms & rhizomes bind.

Atop cast seeds of eternal blooms: statice, forget-me-nots…
& daisy, iris, marigold; all fed as my body rots.

One last request, hardest yet, you’ll need to plant these two with care.
Old red rose at my tombstone &, my feet, blue hydrangea fair.

My wish is to be a garden blooming always; save winter.
For then, my fruit trees, bare yet strong, will guard my garden’s center.

I’m all stocked up on religion’s atrocities; I’ve just no storage left.
I’m informed & I remain aware of the world; for which, I am bereft.

Has believing in myths done a thing for the people of an ancient time?
It cutely explains, for those unbothered to think, the evil & sublime.

When presented stories from three ancient yarns…of God, of Zeus & of Thor;
Is there any difference there; or single one worth all this blood & war?

Many have died in every myth’s name, but the lesson is still not learned.
When will we see that folktale magic is not real…none of them, blood, have earned.

I won’t disrespect culture, or personal faith; until it calls for lives.
If you have been called to arms by your chosen god…then he should catch your knives.

When I’m faced with a dream come true will I fumble?
In waiting for that second shoe, will I tumble?

Do I apologize when I bleed in public?
Do I warn them all off because my blood is sick?

When my body says no, will I fight to get up?
Will I hide all my screams in a specimen cup?

With all of these questions, how can my dreams come close?
How do I squeeze a date between first & last dose?

Is it any wonder the second shoe haunts me?
“Maybe I’ll get lucky”, my perennial plea.

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.