The Deepest Cut

There in the silence

a wandering soul,

human being

whom when asked

will respond,

will navigate

inside a moment.

 

What is it the

seeming attraction

takes their heart

beyond finding peace,

instead persecution

offers solace

before a quiet passion.

 

Once in a storybook

lived a man

who did question

his life,

the meaning around

what is value,

still he found no answer.

 

There is a fear sometimes

in words,

those subjective tones

an affirmation

later became

such a powerful

condemnation.

 

How do we survive

when the brain

seems readily drawn

to yanking,

demanding,

interrupting the flow

of a soft heart.

 

Where is the deepest chasm,

one that defines our lives.

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On Positive Outcome

We have these moments

we, the human beings

where emotions begin our day,

end our nights,

decide our way.

 

We sometimes cannot move a muscle

our bodies so strong, resilient

frozen to the ground,

the nature of a piece of soft furniture

becomes the bastion

covet our ill.

 

Today, nature’s frozen ground

sure to take some lives,

those of human beings

lost inside a vortex of instantaneous

decision making ice

 

We need to look for answer

instead of accepting defeat,

our bodies human yet frail,

we cannot allow the remedy of loss

become our only outcome.

 

Sweet is the human condition,

ready and willing

weep and cry, laugh in hysterics

the emotional roller-coaster

whom we become, come to be.

 

Find solace in the truth,

know honesty

recognize the power of an ill

realize the beauty of real,

stay safe, stay warm, stay in love.

 

No matter that the world has other plans,

let your own be the finality carry on a glow.

Standing In Line

black-and-white-community-crowd-9816

Readied the winds of change

would speak tonight,

fair warning,

a knee cap to the asphalt

the bleeding had begun …

 

and so he may believe

this might be a truth

 

He chose to ice the damage

knowing full well this body

would not desire the challenge

to respond

be the resilient one

hold fast to insurrection

 

and so he believe

this might be a truth

 

How ought the line respond

cut inside the weaker lot

forward we will resonate our steps

it is the American way,

we do as descendent find

sweet entitlement in crass negated

walkways, airstrips, bon voyage

 

I see the ghosts of my ancestor

still standing firm, dignity in hand

A Nostalgic Christmas Fairy Tale

We met in a college football atmosphere,

eyes locked immediate intrigue,

the sort you might not remind anyone

for it is meant to be a

quiet recall,

a soft memory

when everyone else went home.

 

There’s no one left to remember,

except perhaps

her,

the snowball fight,

the falling flakes

as big as night

Hennepin avenue forever,

we would run into each other’s arms

this sort of love

thing neither understood,

nor would either try to

recall another season.

 

We were playing soul-mates

while cars drove by,

people glanced and imagined

two people in love

playing in the snow,

a winter’s night,

a quiet recall,

I remember being with you,

so now the memory is left me blue.

 

I would say Happy Xmas around now

for we’ll never recall just when and how.

Standing Inside A Movie Theater

I kept waiting for the movie to begin,

watching all the many faces walk in,

a quiet couple with a few kids in tow

buckets of popcorn, couple sodas y’know.

 

We were all together intrigued by the feature

the latest hot reel to blow minds for sure

that sort of ‘let me out of here’ my reality

is way too compelling, now escape civility.

 

For a few minutes we all sat down, settled

making sure no one near our business mettled

we wanted only the silver screen to take us

far away from any thing important did we fuss.

 

Still standing inside, the movie ended long ago,

wondering just which part I might already know.

A Life Led

Watching movies all of our lives,

imagined scenarios,

romantic interludes

with coveted designs

all created within the scope

of such sweet select yearn

we celebrate a constant envy.

 

While the world reminds

us of simple routine,

a Thanksgiving Day parade

the Macy’s celebration,

streets lined with normalcy,

our world in a capsule

filled with smiles and reason.

 

Watching a stranger now,

who did once lead a life,

a sort of mechanical failure

brought him to his knees

standing outside

a warmth and peace inside.

 

We choose our lives.

Would we that gather an

idyllic scenario

now that terms are met

could we ever disregard

the notion of our lives

to be the

sweet remembrance of why.

 

In lasting conversations with friends

as memory suggests, pretend.

Being In My Head

A description

suggestive in its exploit

meant as prophecy

more oft bereft

Fallacy.

 

The other afternoon

when caught

in turmoil’s grasp

would one recall

Travesty.

 

We are ourselves

makers of the storm

we design our fall

how we rise we dwell, this …

Legacy.

 

This notion of an internal measure

Always reminds me of my leisure.