The Rains Began

Seemed days had passed,

since I’d heard their steady cry,

my rooftop comes alive,

with the steady rains,

 

Oh we do need the tears,

especially in those quiet times,

when our heart has stopped.

 

The beat of our sympathy,

some time lost in the scathing heat,

of a hot sunlight,

meant to persecute our peaceful

sanctuary.

 

I heard the rains begin,

the drops of cleansing cry,

she told me they would arrive.

 

And so I listened,

and could cry for hours afterward.

Last Night’s Anxiety

Real.

Made up will not suffice.

Perfection is a model for memory

when lost in the shadow of fear.

Unstoppable.

Passive.

Remarkable in patterned stealth

tendrils suffocation drawn.

Observation.

Callous.

in every waking moment a trapping,

a formidable locksmith might overlook.

Posture.

Presence.

Quite assured no response to time

could offer solution, satisfaction.

Perhaps.

Solution.

In time a drowsy eye could tear

enough to drown self-pity.

Cope.

Why Do We Teach?

We measure our lives for the children,

whether we advocate

whether we understand

whether we accept

whether we gratify

whether we acknowledge

our own defeatist frame of mind

while trying to change lives along the way.

~

I faced an obstacle today, one that turned out

represented a state of mind,

a clear example of the human condition,

the reason I stand in a classroom everyday.

~

I watched as stubborn pride evolved into humility,

I listened as pain turned slowly toward humor,

even a chuckle that powdered the room,

an energy suggested we can return again,

to where it is we once stood,

that place we felt secure,

an opportunity,

a new door, that when respect

steps through with confidence,

becomes the road forward.

~

I faced an obstacle today, one that turned out

represented a state of mind,

a clear example of the human condition,

the reason I stand in a classroom everyday.

~

Could we step back and breathe,

might our lives find solace,

once the dust becomes an afterthought,

the cleansing has begun,

we might see truth

beyond our own selfish arrogance

lies in the eyes,

those are the needs of a teacher.

When Obama Cries

I would ask you this, when your criticism mounts,

do you remember your own tears?

When President Obama shows real tears,

is there a moment when we wonder about ourselves,

when human nature responds with emotion,

we enjoy, we love, we relish the opportunity

to point out our weak society.

When the Newtown tragedy was discussed in your own home,

were there tears, do  you remember,

did you block that part out only because you couldn’t possibly

agree with the truth?

Do you remember the first time your mother told you it is ok,

to cry.

To cry in public,

to recognize we are human beings and sadness when on display

could be powerful beyond display.

Do you understand passion, I believe President Obama wants you to.

Think about your last cry, and honor the beauty of peace

of mind and body.

Think about what leadership means when emotion is honorable.

Freedom Without Tears

At first glance nearly impossible,

to imagine,

our lives holding dry eyes

while freedom quietly knocks on our door.

We have to understand with love

we explore

the beauty of acceptance

that surreal moment when peace speaks.

I want to believe

freedom without tears

might exist in the heart

when this world begins the day less needy.

I heard cries on the street

new confusion,

we do wish for the moment

we might struggle to know our own identity.

I wonder though some time

speak compassion

are we really wanting this,

or is it another Warhol scream to be heard.

I do believe the tears

will satisfy

the pain in our heart

far greater is the will of emotion than stone.

We collect ourselves

again resilient

to forget yesterday’s ruse,

yet tomorrow, our tears must follow freedom.

An Upsetting Time

Stunned, a brief awareness,

then disbelief, then horrific, ugly,

insane realization.

My people, your people, we people,

all of us trying to

breathe.

We are told to

‘look the other way’

in a manner of speaking only because we still have

compassion.

We are asked to pass judgment upon soul driven desire

across the divide we see only torment,

now on the other side,

resentment.

What world do we live in might refuse admittance,

what scheme, grand design are you trying to sell me,

how should I respond,

when where I lay my head, the roads, paths,

the forest beautiful in all her natural innocence

begins to question

anyone.

What does freedom mean to …

would the real world please stand up.

Civilized Agony

Tears are real,

though hidden,

repressed,

we really don’t reveal

fires inside,

we can’t allow others

inanimate reasons

to hold court

in the presence

of others.

When alone,

that ability

to cry out loud

delights the mind,

while sitting alone

without audience

tears will flow free

and yet if we reveal

a sob, a gasp, an awkward

shift in posture,

if we,

allowances are made,

we become free,

we fly inside a dream,

a myriad of emotion

follows …

in there a world

far beyond

a typical day,

a routine need,

a wonderful sunrise,

becomes ironic,

we believe our soul

cleansed again.