Forgotten Are Quiet Souls

We tend to dissuade our mind

to remember those

the forgotten lives

of the many abandoned in the quiet

winds of change.

 

When the world wreaks havoc

upon the sanity

of a society designed toward freedom,

too often

the prospect of truth

 

is lost upon the game of advancement.

We settle into a solace

only asking for sweet peace

in order to avoid the controversy

necessary for the care of all.

 

There was this one time,

when as a child he felt it necessary

to say hello

when suddenly a slap across the face

instilled Nature’s fear forever.

 

Rest upon the soft melody

of a love

allows our lives to smile

in the crystal clear landscape

of a lovely autumn morning.

 

If only then

across our world

we might able ourselves

to make allowance,

for the mind that involves

 

everyone.

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This Quiet Passion

It is a love, a desire, a response to silence,

for so many occasions,

while the skies do glance the usual,

always, the emotions might trigger,

might respond,

could offer a storm of wrath,

or perhaps,

when least we anticipate,

a light rain, to cleanse our soul,

allow our lives to breathe,

beyond the casual haze

of a summer day.

 

I stood in front of my emotions today,

asked a question,

perhaps stoic in my way,

I wondered just how far

we might have to travel

in order,

to participate in the aftermath

of chaos,

for it screams that phenomena

stayed with my being,

for as many days as the summer

holds true to an autumn.

 

While now I rest my weary soul,

the fortune of time offers sweet Grace,

when age becomes validation,

and hearts do forever listen.

I have traveled far and wide,

and yet there is a stillness,

may overcome me in evening’s tide,

as will the serendipity of passion,

an surreal reality as I stand here before you,

wanting only solace from a sweet panic.

 

In life, we do lead with thoughtful enterprise,

a notion, an ideal,

oft times an inspiration,

to market goodness,

to experience that

goodness,

to know such character

is infamy

when stood alongside

true character.

When passion speaks its favor,

our world, a planet, a state, a society,

a mosaic,

we are all

so much – so little – so together,

 

We can be universal,

we may align, smile, gesture, accord

each other …

we can be one.

The ‘Not Yet’ Reality of Racism

boston

Boston rally – photo credit – CNN

A dear friend once used the phrase ‘not yet’ to suggest a descriptive moment in our lives that though I will not describe that context, I will explore the phrase as it pertains to our lives in America today. As I write this commentary, I notice a massive gathering of protesters in Boston to represent all sides in light of the Charlottesville tragedy. To be clear, it has been reported that this Boston ‘Freedom’ rally was planned in advance to last week’s hate melee in Virginia; however, at the same time, authorities are said to be prepared for outbreaks, and have given notice to all participants.

I’m personally very happy to see this gathering, and my wishes are for a completely peaceful representation. After all, wouldn’t it be refreshing to be able to say this evening, tens of thousands of protesters gathered in Boston Commons without incident? We can only hope, but in the meantime, let’s talk about the ‘not yet’ factor of racism in America. After all, a score of you reading this right now may be sitting in your chair at home or in the office, or sharing drinks or coffee with friends having a dialogue, expounding upon the issues that haunt our country’s racial divide, but just aren’t quite ready to become involved. Many of you might even be saying, I believe the issue exists, but I just don’t want to become … not yet.

After Charlottesville and the notable incidents that will appear to evolve from today’s rallies, my suggestion would be that the time is now. We can all in less than five minutes name a string of current events that impact the racial divide in America. It is time to stop suggesting we are over reacting and begin to address the issues that exist in our society today. Right now, today as I write this I feel a stronger tension than I did as a child growing up in the 60’s. Granted I wasn’t yet in my teens, but I listened to my older siblings, and watched the news with a very well informed mother and father.

The fact that civil rights set such a precedent in the 60’s gives cause to argue that what is happening today in our world is throwing all of that effort out the window. It would seem today, we are right back where we started with open violence attached to racial discrimination. There are no filters, and our children, the young people growing up with this mindset should be our primary concern.

What scares me the most is the actions that happen behind closed doors, just like the very pub or coffee shop you are sitting in right now. Those conversations need to be geared toward reframing our thinking, to understand what ‘love’ means as opposed to the insidious nature of ‘hate’ in America. Time magazine recently published a cover page with the American flag and the heading ‘Hate in America’ as its bi-line. I scratched out hate and wrote love above it and posted it on Facebook, but then took it down because of copyright infringement.

We need to start to dialogue together, to inform one another of the long-term effects of racism, not as much our future but how the past has impacted a way of thinking today, that will not improve if society doesn’t begin to collectively listen. Let’s ignore the ‘not yet’ and begin to act now.

In the meantime, let’s wish for peaceful strolls throughout some major metropolitan cities where protesters are presently laying emphasis on the cause for peace and unity throughout this gorgeous Saturday afternoon.

 

 

The Rains Began

Seemed days had passed,

since I’d heard their steady cry,

my rooftop comes alive,

with the steady rains,

 

Oh we do need the tears,

especially in those quiet times,

when our heart has stopped.

 

The beat of our sympathy,

some time lost in the scathing heat,

of a hot sunlight,

meant to persecute our peaceful

sanctuary.

 

I heard the rains begin,

the drops of cleansing cry,

she told me they would arrive.

 

And so I listened,

and could cry for hours afterward.

When in Sallow Form

Can you see me, a suggested expression,

one that does’t expect any reaction,

except to say,

go away,

for I am of another dimension.

 

It is in the faces of our population,

the happy troubadour in position,

the contemplative activist,

they’re all in it

together,

to suggest a mind has imagination.

 

Yet why write songs about a flower’s illumination,

is it to pretty the subversion,

that piece of our lives,

we tend to ignore,

we walk away,

only to later suggest we are under observation.

 

We design ourselves upon the brink of a nation,

all of us a part of the imposition,

that sacred knowledge,

the world exists together,

sometime forgetting the notion of compassion.

The Obituary

I wonder how they felt it might read,

summing up their life,

in a nutshell,

passing through all of the bad times,

focus upon the good, the energy, the meaning,

the society we live in deems the necessary truths.

If we knew,

would we then change our mind,

if we could stand in the back of the church,

see the weeping eyes,

the countless expressions of confusion,

would we,

care.

 

I wonder what mine will say today,

as compared to years from now,

which would be more attractive,

the present reality

or that seeming legacy that time forgot,

only the pain did always remain,

a constant,

within even a moment of relief,

there would be the memory of how many times,

we might have,

he might have,

thought differently than to withstand

normalcy.

 

Oh the papers they might read,

and then in a week or two,

there his ashes would be spread.

Summer’s Wonder

In simple minutes I was drawn to you,

a walk, a stroll – complimentary blue.

If told to find the cloud in this sweet sky,

One might imagine naysayers do cry.

Soak in an energy drives home our soul

Believe in the elegance in a summer whole.

I do dance in the steaming heat of victory,

to know that Grace offers my humanity.

Oh to wonder the how and why of a universal

atmosphere we could stand to embrace all