We have all seen them
by now
the news is rampant with sensation
they know how
to trigger our emotions
suggest how we ought to feel.
Tag Archives: freedom
When A Child Dreams
I would dream summers
running through hemlock
brush scratches naked calves
the moment, lost in its mystique
When we were kids
we were ushered out of the house
play until you drop
play until you drop
We didn’t mind
being ushered out
we were in our element
children of summer
When I was a child
I didn’t imagine barriers
there wasn’t a risk of
seeing a friend bloodied
We didn’t walk around
waiting for our parents
who were never to be found,
unless of their own volition.
When I was a younger boy,
I could run for hours,
feeling the heat of summer
knowing the thrill of joy
In my wildest dreams
I was never sought, ushered,
told to stop my scream
for justice beyond my dream.
Today, the children of summer
are everywhere and far away
from the beauty of love
the compassion of a tender tear.
Today, I do recall freedom in my childhood,
I weep alone for the children of summer.
When ‘Giving Thanks’ Struggles
I am experiencing an internalized state of mind this Thanksgiving. I’ve been looking at this page for an hour or so trying to figure out how to begin my annual Thanksgiving message for my blog. Occasionally the message rings strong and I publish it further, but today, in my head, deep in my head, I’m wondering what message I could possibly provide that suggests giving thanks.
Right now I am not in a thankful state of mind and it truly hurts my heart. I’m wondering why, though deep down I think the answer is quite apparent. The answer is in my head and it seems that’s where I want it to stay. Given that mindset, how can any message come out of this rant that offers any redeeming value toward the nature of giving thanks in my life? I think the solution can only be finding a way to remove myself from the equation and put that focus on the world around me.
In order to do that I need to step out of my head. I look outside my window to see a beautiful day. I can see winter coming, the changing of seasons, the new experiences that lay ahead, and I can blend all those moments into one and be thankful I am able to react to the wonder of our lives with a smile. That alone is possible. Alone it is that simple. Moving beyond the selfish and realizing the world around us is more important than ourselves is the meaning of Thanksgiving.
Sometimes, that belief is difficult to carry out. We can always find reasons to complain, to wonder, to speculate to such a degree that we no longer see the good in the world around us. But again, that is such a waste of valuable energy. Finding the ability to turn that around and be thankful without need for personal validation is the key. So here goes.
I am thankful today I can be with my family and we can celebrate another day of sharing time and conversation and fill our belly with delicious traditional foods. I am thankful I live in a world where I can find immediate freedom walking out my front door without worry of impingement upon my peace of mind. I am thankful to have shelter, to know compassion, to recognize love, to be alive. I am thankful that rather than focus upon the immediacy of my life, I can view a world outside that does allow everyone to be included, that love is a common denominator in a society that sometimes forgets the meaning of caring for one another. I am thankful that I have the ability to try.
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in a position to celebrate this holiday. Peace.
When Once We Stood Together
Today I remember then,
only when
I cannot quite comprehend.
I know it was with intrigue
I wondered about time,
was this perhaps the proper sign.
I would look to wonder
each new design
a telling of a simple future.
Seems we all have a memory
whereby we might all recall
sweet passion was most kind.
We walked together as one,
hoping for the same,
a recognition of love.
Seemed rather simple at the time,
we all wanted it,
we all shouted the words.
Freedom seemed attractive,
easily attainable,
put a smile on all of our –
insecurities stepped in the way,
began to sway
the intelligent soul
toward shutting their door
no one allowed inside
any more, none anymore
we cannot help put pity
upon those we left behind.
Words are different now,
they speak quickly,
loud,
their tone misunderstood
or simply not concerned.
Sharply stated.
Rude consequences,
never really apply.
Today
instead of a polite retort,
we rather quickly
use a firearm …
the natural way they say
if a conceal and carry
is the way to go.
When once we stood together,
now we elude society
steady in the drum,
the lasting hypocrisy.
I Have These Moments …
I forget, I react, I overload,
Symptomatic of a torn life I suppose.
A lot of years ago I wouldn’t imagine,
The powerful grip this past might hold.
I’ve taught the voices of the future,
Passed on wisdoms and second nature.
Though I suppose from the glass you see,
I’m a regular dude, capable of many things.
Yet I’m always alone,
Wondering just where is it the light is shone.
I walk inside a myriad of speculation,
Always waiting for the cannon to explode.
I wonder about the rest of my kind of person,
Do we all contain ourselves rather than lose it.
I can’t stand to hurt your feelings, anyone at all,
It grieves me to know that any pain is of my hand.
Once in a while life almost seems rather perfect,
The trees, the evening owl, sunsets and sweet breeze.
I wish that all of life could hold such magic,
The sort of spellbound love we do so cherish.
I would travel the world to find a solution,
Then I realize they are right here next to us all
I have these moments I can’t find where to fall
I have these moments I cannot fathom the fall.
In My Comfort Zone
It is where I am every day,
my comfort zone,
I give a glimpse into the world
I see,
every hour of my day,
until the sun does set,
hues change, sky becomes a darkness outside
I cannot see as readily.
Until the morning comes,
then in rain or sunshine, the view the same,
I always see the leaves in summer,
in winter the naked branch, the neighbor’s home,
I see this every day,
it is in my comfort zone …
Where no bombs exist,
shattered windows, glass explodes,
the screams of children barely two,
barely recognizing a reason to fear,
yet they endure,
a daily barrage of human agony,
a tragic reality leaves a shell now,
where a window frame once gave a shield
to the weather, the mortars, the terror, the wind …
carries evil’s wares inside the shadows.
It is where I am every day,
my comfort zone,
I give a glimpse into the world,
I see …
A Prayer For Meaning
StarTribune photograph
Today the battle won for the many,
those lives that fill our hearts with meaning,
the memories of laughter, filled the room,
when so many others were left alone.
Today, we do recall our brothers and sisters,
whose names we all know always forever,
the lives of strong, courageous beings,
went before our own to save such freedoms.
Today, in our ‘day off’ we must remember,
the many heartfelt thanks to all the members,
our lives are allowed to stand in sunshine,
only because their day off would be eternal.
So when we fire up the grill, pop the beverage,
when the favorite t-shirts and celebrations,
take over our country, light up the skies,
know the freedom they fought be not forgotten.
Be the infinite matter that defines our lives,
for their strength embolden our false security.
Race Dialogue Matters
Hear that,
disparaging commentary,
confront it today,
walk away tomorrow,
tonight,
every day we hear something,
close eyes, and imagine a beautiful sunrise,
anything to move me,
my mind, my attitude, my conscience,
elsewhere.
If we don’t talk about it, maybe it doesn’t matter
as much,
well, as much as,
in a manner of speaking, have you asked the question,
to those that do care about each other’s
well-being, freedom, respect,
a desire to feel intrigue about who I am,
in the light of others, them.
What matters is acceptance,
not just of you and me,
understanding the conversation is important,
helps, makes sense, builds bridges,
builds a passionate embrace
who we are,
why we need to have this
understanding,
in the light of not getting it,
we didn’t want to,
talk about it,
if we do, then it becomes an issue.
What a crock of shit.
when we choose to pretend it needs no discussion,
we then,
lose control of
the possibility
freedom to engage,
no sabotage,
instead scrutiny,
the sort the matters,
the kind creates a collective
eloquence, oh, I mean,
love.
When I Was 17
I remember not wanting to be around,
afraid of my own shadow,
playing anxiety games with my friends,
see who could cover their shadow,
who might understand the freedom
the real world,
the possibility that exists beyond our dreams.
~
I remember sleepless nights with an amphetamine,
the coursing through my veins attitude,
we could last for hours on our own,
no signs of empathy needed,
we were powerful with a dash of freedom
in a zigzag rolled with the finest weed.
We were always able to finally fool ourselves.
~
I remember wanting to escape,
hoping this next moment might be my freedom,
the simple reality of an hour,
could I forget myself long enough to remember
where it was I wished to be,
when while a slow reality might creep in,
I could still be 17.
~
I remember when it was possible to dream,
imagine a world where my life seemed real,
I could play with ideas,
preach philosophies that turned on the girls,
i would listen to Steely Dan,
while trying to paralyze my body,
through some Buddhist meditation.
~
I remember seldom wondering about the next day.
A Little Billie Holiday for Him
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
