Category: Spirituality

In The Elegance of Time

We do agree, when chance occurs,

when life begins to travel beyond,

the fear of time, when innocence gone

astray suddenly becomes a tactic.

There needs to be that separation,

the ability might we glance upon

a focus, a dream-like surreal reality,

once that pain is surely settled.

If hours could measure a previous dial,

if life’s gifts weren’t dependent on

simple virtue, simple blessings, we may

know a faraway place where bliss remains.

When by stretching our lives beyond

the sacrificial lamb that is truth,

we might just then begin to wonder,

how it is we discovered a new nature.

suddenly we know our world sublime

We live in the elegance of time.

A Little Billie Holiday for Him

by Klassy_Lei

I thought I might listen to a little Billie tonight,

his memory is fresh in my mind.

I ‘d like to think he did a little swing in time,

her words, her melody, a smile.

This is a good man we honor today in dreams

a mover with a heart of humble pie.

if Billy might have heard his words imagine,

the groove she’d create in a cadence

that spoke to his hope for a society in change

they could waltz together in a walk,

a stroll that became his march on Washington,

with her crooning voice led the way.

It is difficult to imagine how one life could change

the masses, cause a people to respond

a certain elegance from her, singing the blues,

a reality of time needing change for him.

We celebrate the man that spoke of a freedom,

I somehow have to think when a child,

listening to Billie Holiday speak to the times,

he began to certainly understand peace.


*photo found on cuthroathippiegang

What Inspires a Rhapsody

Is it love,

in every effort

each song we might sing,

the glorious wonder of a spring morning

when flowers bloom

air diffuses fragrant melody

while the world all around

seems eternally happy

even the sadness of a quiet alarm

that reality of the human condition

seems maybe, just a tad, perhaps only for a moment,

encompassed in our own

quiet rhapsody.

The pleasure of which,

to know eternal grace

-amongst the purge and glutton of our wasteland-

we can find ecstatic release.

How do we get there on a consistent basis

or is that part of the puzzle

the building block,

the needed accentuate variable,

is that why we sometimes feel the pain of

a graveled road crawing and snagging and bleeding our bodies …

When we can laugh at skies sullen,

smile within the culture of a hopeful demise,

when while the world around us crumbles in philosophy,


perhaps than asking for too much,

we might just be –

the music begins, listen.

watching sunrises

I do wonder about time, as in the morning sun

while nearby the world did bathe in love as one


For in just that instant, no matter to any one agenda

we might all recognize residence in love’s hacienda.


Could you crucify a neighbor who’d lost all of their hope

if in the morning, suddenly they might suffer to cope.


We are all lives battered together in a mix of reality

contained by a social stratus suggests we know clarity.


Yet somewhere along the way, some storm cloud special

effect began to take precedent, and we lost a ritual.


The key to every answer we might ever want pursue

seems just as nearby as a solution without having a clue.


I remember parades that lasted hours in the town square

nobody knew to suggest if anyone person might truly dare


disrupt the uniformity of the day’s event, says the town crier

we will live together to honor and celebrate our own each other.


While just around the corner there lies in a waiting vehicle

a new sort of legacy, a crowning much less stereotypical.


Our lives in the balance might beg for the reality of dreams

while then again as fortune calls, our lives will blossom it seems.

Evil Laughter

“I read the news today oh boy
About a lucky man who made the grade
And though the news was rather sad
Well I just had to …” –¬†A Day in the Life (Beatles)

Finish my lyrics with torment and greed.

Sickened by the lust of power desecrates

humanity as an intelligence run amok.

Who are we anymore, again, please reply.

I just heard a proclamation of horrific

stance, posture, attitude, built upon

resentment, that fashionable disease.


There is a piece of me remains preserved

for a sunny day, a better way to respond

to Evil’s grasp on our world of ignorance.

I wonder if I stepped outside and screamed

if anyone might really hear me beyond a visual

response to a crazy man in a psychotic state.

Would they listen to my words anymore than

they did when the aftermath of torture ended.


I stood in front of time watchful of my attention,

I sold my soul to the world beyond my own control.

I soiled my own physical reality with the fear of me.

I solved no matter of reasoning, no new influence

I stood stunned solemn – while the healing began.


I wonder sometimes who really gets it, or is that a choice,

knowledge mixed with pity and reasoning seems abrupt

when in a loss of life we are suddenly brought to arms,

we are living in a society of pain and agony,

we are testing freedom’s beauty within a state of



State of Mind in a Decade

That’s when you left for real this time,

let me explain, you’d never left before, always there,

always nearby, no matter the miles,

a phone call, a letter, nearly an email,

whatever the venue, I could always count on you.

I think our lives are peculiar in their manner,

making us believe

people will be with us forever.

You had me convinced, so did he of course,

and then gradually the two of you …

I do hope and wonder,

imagine and try to ponder alone

in my own quiet reality,

I wonder whether you might be togetehr,

how things look for you,

I am curious if life is the same, just a different universe,

a universal theme of spiritual reckoning.

I know today how powerful the mind is,

so capable, so self-assuring to leave the human body,

behind … a burial ground exists to carry

the weight of our mechanical frailty.

Yet, out there, I heard a story the other day,

that when he was getting ready,

an old friend of week’s earlier,


said hello, and hoped he might hurry along.

I think that is rather fascinating here,

watching leaves on a tree blowing in the wind,

the nature of our lives sedentary,

while we allow our physicality –

a gradual decay.

Yet, here we are realizing the mind,

that precursor to the soul,

magical in its own anomaly,

plods on in steady march,

leaving us all wondering what next

chemical reaction,

will help guide our next steps.


I am delighted to speak with you again, it has been so long,

I miss you mom, I know today you see everything is real.