What Crosses My Mind

  • The Nature of Time

    I When I spoke in youth, freedom in desire and passion, a yield within seasonal adjustment kept the mind busy, fascinated, curious, collective, safe. The nature of pain, reflective, had little circumstance, beyond the wood, a trail, an exploration of childhood memory just begun. When waft in confusion, the speed of change, an embarrassment to the…

  • In Depression’s Grip

    I wouldn’t say imagination, instead, a spiral of twisting metal, cracked concrete well below, the shavings of slivers and dust where the legs go. A night sky that looms in sunlight, clouded thinking, to the degree of a natural flight, over here, this time, that afternoon, one year in my life. I sometimes want to…

  • While Understanding Matters

    In speaking out loud, one suggested, there is little that matters, mixing paint, the blend is a natural course of a process, one that’s surely been in place, long before our own, personal reaction. We sometimes play with dye, adjusting colors for our own benefit, philosophy, comfort zone. For when the artist, will display their…

  • 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,…

  • The High Road

    Sometimes there is a wonder in the air, how to achieve a certain peace, that evident nature of discovering where our best intentions find release. ~ While outside our circle we witness resolve, the world awaits the next solution, that quandary exists we cannot easily solve, yet seek we do peace in absolution. ~ I…

  • A White Man’s Struggle

    I spoke of this in my classroom today, it didn’t make sense, I still haven’t figured out a way, to not seem utterly dense. I’m a White man trying to be understanding, yet every time I try I end up again, landing square upon my own ignorance and cry. I’m a White man rocked with…

  • Whistle Stop -Carpe Diem #908 Hearing

    a time before mine silent in passionate night train sounds whine ~ in present mind our lives listen to the sky a distant remind ~ the echo of nature lost in Her brilliant forest she speaks mature ~ if now in my own pleasant reality of time listen to be known ~ Carpe Diem #908…

  • Nine Line Parallels (part 2)

    When a child reaches for the sky arms spread without conviction, simple pleasure, a naivety is desire we clap our hands allow the momentum of innocence might prosper toward a freedom in idyllic tones. (part 2)

  • A Tossed Salad

    I wonder if we might ever know, just when how the display of our lives would really go, if by some design, certain hearts, those with a common soul, a difference in mannerism, attitude, energy, I do sometimes think together, there is just so much we don’t know, yet while the sun crosses the sky,…

  • Whose Fight Is This?

    When did the word respect become a distant memory. Whenever the wind blows a certain way, do we have to only comply. While a thought crosses the mind of a quiet soul, we might think of another’s low. ~ The other afternoon, I noticed them gathered together, realized their fortune to be each other only…