When We Pause

Step off the line, for if only in a moment,

we can pause and watch time pass,

we might then know we are not ever alone,

for look in the eyes,

the people around us,

scrambling for a position,

sliding past the damp graffiti run concrete,

the long and winding passageways that teem

with life in only short intervals,

until finally,

one day,

we all stop and listen,

the jazz licks nearby,

the passion in his breathing,

the delight in her arms while she winds the band

upon her violin.

 

Stop and listen for a moment,

and realize we are all alone

only if we choose,

to pretend our eyes belong to ourselves.

Outside My Head

Dance in pummel of sordid thought,
a barricade decries our pleasantry
instead wreaks havoc selectively.

Oh furrow inside a mindless dream,
play the fool to hide the scream,
a brain has energy of certain matter.

We shadow our true identity
in search of some promised land,
yet, seek it alone, for is travesty.

Only strength of character survive
a constant of scrutiny sewn society
that places a marker on well being.

In the glorious sunshine of summer’s way
my spirit parlay the human condition today

A Prayer For Meaning

eagle

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.

On White Privilege

I was pissed today,

they didn’t get it,

instead, they threw it away,

opportunity,

look around the room,

everyone has a set of eyes,

focus on the corneas, nothing else,

notice the tear ducts,

they exist,

Everything else is added baggage,

meant to confuse and display,

every wonder why?

The eyes?

I stood outside in the rain,

a natural cleanse,

when I opened my windows later in the day,

I could see clearly again, another setting sun.

When Thinking the Terrible Things

While our lives are thought to be fragile,

we count on those knowing moments,

when in a sudden sort of sardonic setting,

a cathartic challenge suggests we listen.

 

When ego is put aside, and humility speaks,

such valuable outcomes refresh our mind,

we with certainty begin to better understand,

that vulnerability is meant to make a stand.

 

Glance around the room and wonder the eyes,

what is personality, how do we surmise

the value of this persons gray reminders,

versus the notion of a youthful banter.

 

Where all walks contain a familiar gait,

Our definition of value placed upon a posture,

might the aftermath of judgment call callous

the quiet listener who stands lone in a river.

 

When thinking all of the terrible things,

we forget about those we call the other,

decide upon a direction without a bother,

quite the opposite really, despised clutter.

 

Perhaps if in a notion of sweet forgiveness

Might we all reflect upon love is goodness.

 

 

Beyond Moments

If in breath, a gasp, an eye glance,
worlds interact with indifferent realities,
only to provide expression,
if only then might we understand.

While a horizon away,
a family struggles to recognize
the wealth of their local dream,
while on the other side, a smile.

If during some compelling summer
we all recognize theirs is an august,
might we in that brief moment,
give certainty to everyone’s value.

While walking toward the sun,
a fellow or perhaps her inclination
might be to know truth is love,
could all possibility turn virtuous.

We listen to the dreams of the others
oft beyond consideration of our own.

Sometimes I Stop

There is that occasion when the world evolves,

and I, for the sake of I, stay static,

I stop,

I don’t smell  the flowers, or even walk in the humidity,

instead,

I am frozen in time, wondering just how many hours

will drift past my eyes before I can

know,

before I might understand,

why the motion of my mind seems to be

in a perpetual state of idle.

 

When these episodic windfalls of clarity,

reach my sub-conscious,

I sometimes wonder about perception,

not about yours or theirs or anyone beyond my world,

but more about them,

those I love, the children, the voices, the people

that all know where I come from,

they all know the

affliction,

the seemingly easy out I have in my lexicon of words

to justify just why I want to cry.

 

It seems though,

in the silence of any room, any vacant space,

it is apparent, that I will stay here, forever.