We watched the snow together
frost paned windows,
I could feel your presence,
you told me you wanted more.
I hadn’t ever told you before,
I was afraid I might lose you,
in the balance of a life,
we always make decisions,
impact a lifetime.
I had to be sure,
just wanted to know.
If what we believe true
we might last a lifetime,
traveling paths,
supporting one another,
seems does fly by,
and before we know it,
those moments in eyes,
all turned into sighs.
While searching
one day in autumn
the sky was greying
a sign is solemnity.
If we
consider the fee
for living our lives
in a travesty.
We might forget
just how simple
our lives could be.
Driving over the bridge
I thought about the edge,
the lives standing on a ledge
wondered til I felt a cringe
Thought of all the lives
a beautiful spring day
turning evening anyway
bicyclists, walkers, drives
This quiet sense of wonder
overcame my state of mind
only a silent recall, remind
it does put an end to a wander.
Driving by again I returned
this time to lights and fear
there was an apparent jumper
bicyclists, walkers, all turned
away from the activity, a quiet
like our lives ever hold merit.
We are taught to know love,
a spectacular spiritual solemnity
we embrace
wonder
wander through our lives
with a constant
in some evaluative sojourn.
We know lives
touch the spirit of others
in quiet encounters
a silence can speak so
tenderly in its clarity
to know her,
answer him,
wander through a myriad
of human condition
centered proclivities.
Yet in the quiet
of loss
of tragedy
of the knowledge
we do not have,
though sometimes protest
to hold the key
to why it is
who we are
what we might become
in such judgment
we can never really know
beyond our ability
to show compassion
in the eyes of hope
For it is this confusion that draws
the most stolid heart to tears.
Dedicated to the short lives of Bushra Abdi, 19, and Zeynab (Hapsa) Abdalla 19
There are already open wounds
two young women lost their lives
their final moments
in a panic with 911.
We have these preliminary assumptions
the dead can no longer speak
a certain beauty will now forever
encompass the memory of their lives.
What happens in the middle of the morning
to find the soul and heart
crying for safety, lost in a certain mire
unable to see, perhaps without ability.
Now we have to listen
we have to hope in the midst of tragedy
no foul play, only the reality
of two lives ending in such a tragic way.
They perished in a city
in a hot bed of controversy
the marginalization of a society
lived and breathed until this day.
We will wonder the bystander
if there are questions to remain
perhaps two children in the throes
of living each day like their last.
They will be, were, are always loved
ours is not a place to judge
only find the peace of finding Grace
finding paths for their soul to rise.
I feel lost and helpless, out of control,
I cannot fathom the pain that is now endured
by the family, the friend, the community,
the loss of life so random and unexpected,
… and this has nothing to do with the shooter.
I’m left in a fury of angst and simple confusion,
I know the emotional drain of being human,
living out our purpose and striving to be,
and like Hollywood, just when we realize …
… and this has nothing to do with the shooter.
I think we all think about how a person’s day begins,
the same as yesterday, perhaps a sweet happiness,
or even probably the angst of having to be the machine,
another day of social squabbles and night’s end purpose.
… and this has nothing to do with the shooter.
All of these moments we’ve all felt together,
we know the sense of sunshine in the morning,
we understand the beauty of a co-worker,
the laughter of a memo, the reality of our family.
… and this has nothing to do with the shooter.
There isn’t a day when we are awoken
by the silly notion of our mortality, when thriving
seems to be our goal. There is no reaction
to the possibility our life will be taken with random …
…. AND THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE SHOOTER!
THIS PART has everything to do with the shooter,
because those lives, those people that were so important
to everyone far beyond the trigger of your cowardice,
deserve an opportunity to COME TO LIFE AND WATCH,
WATCH YOU SUFFER INDIGNITY, YOUR FLAWED PURPOSE ON DISPLAY!
Walk with me this fine summer day,
Let me understand just what this way
of sharing ideals and complementing life
can do to end the plight of immoral strife.
We live in the land for freedom for everyone
yet look outside and see how many haven’t one
no singular feats to suggest an enterprise
may take their pain away, like a short-live prize.
We are world truly needs one another
to survive yet, even alone we will dive
if not together, then we begin a trail separate
that one we’d rather always differentiate.
One goal together as growing and living society
might be to outlast the ever present hypocrisy.
What are the truths we have designed our lives by,
why then do they still cause dreams and hopes to die.
A Saturday morning,
an American coffee shop,
a normal milling of the usual,
latte, specialty drinks, fritters,
my black coffee,
and people scattered throughout the room
wearing their apple watches, laptops, fit-bits,
along with the regular crowd …
~
An iconic assortment defines who we are
as a society living within each other’s reach,
eye contact, thoughts, ability to dialogue,
all of our bodies sharing an energy far beyond our comprehension.
~
These are the moments when I wish I could
speak directly to the minds of everyone around me
without interrupting, without invading, without discouraging,
a happiness, a need to concentrate, a desire to have fantasy
take them away if just for the sip of their coffee drink,
away from the pain and suffering and confusion that does truly
intrude upon their daily lives.
~
I suppose most of the time when we think of others
we are certainly measuring our own,
so now is when I could acknowledge those fears
to be inside me,
that inner demon that allows me only certain moments
of quiet solace in the crowd.
I end up thinking though that if I am one,
suffice there are probably many.
where I stand to reflect upon my day,
another might bury themselves in their
quest to figure out why they are so consumed.
~
We all stand together separate, engaged, disjointed,
We all prefer standing room only to human interaction.
~
*photo found on rulesforhumans.wordpress.com
I mean in years your eyes haven’t changed
oh there’s the brow, the lines of endearment,
but the vision, the deep soul of passion,
that’s what I want to continue to see,
I could go forever without being near you,
yet suddenly in the dash of a moment,
your eyes,
their spiritual ambience, their need to remain real,
their pockets that hold your tears,
why I can’t imagine any reality of the human condition
to be more beautiful,
a quiet innocence that continues to grow
will always provide some vision of delight
when you smile.
Inside a profound fog,
the sort that speaks,
silent as a breeze,
noticeable along the way,
are the many realities we sometimes,
try to pretend away.
~
Walking alone I might understand,
there is little nearby to disturb my pace,
yet my same state of mind,
wants to survive inside the maelstrom
of a city sidewalk during lunch hour.
~
When time allows our lives,
to pause,
to brief respond to the ills,
to make a moment feel alive,
when clarity seems easily
attained.
~
When did all the clouds go away,
the visible atmosphere in sudden motion,
carefully drawn across a midwestern landscape.
Then how will a crystal blue sky
ever make it possible to imagine,
there once were shadows,
created nearby,
when lives seemed to exist alone.
~
Time release my soul to pray, in laughter,
while the ills I spent hours fearing, slowly …
A Theatre Website 