On The Occasion of Equality

What would happen,

to jealousy,

to envy,

to wanting more,

to wishing that one were less inclined,

understanding the difference

between yours and mine.

 

What would be said,

when questions arose,

about the ludicrous nature,

of those with a nose

for finding fault in their neighbor

rather than

atoning their own yard.

 

Where would we go,

if no one would regard,

we are the same …

oh wait –

that’s where we have been

for so many years,

so how is it we finally find

some avenue to recognize

respect is a word,

not simply a thought,

a word we can listen to,

practice, believe with a buy in,

that settles all trivialities

those incomprehensible

travesties

keep us yards apart

from unity.

Advertisements

The White Out

In a sudden state of conclusion,

a confusion,

an interruption of our

ultimatum,

we were in a stirring rendition,

of love, of fun, of childhood,

when simply in the notice of our soul catcher,

we were told it is time to go home.

 

Now in the quiet of the day,

when laying back in my bedroom,

the familiar walls, the sounds,

static realities of my existence …

Now I can stand alone,

notice hanging on a wall nearby,

a dreamcatcher follows my eyes,

I suddenly do understand why.

 

A multitude of personality

spoke the knowledge of a few,

only to find some solace,

in the calm,

the storm that surged last night,

lays down a peaceful blanket,

a security to know we are never alone,

and instead just part of the circle,

that place where our lives,

measured amongst their lives,

and the lives of anyone whom nearby,

can hear my shout, her tear, his solemn plea,

we are all inside this dream catcher.

 

In matters of the soul,

we can cleanse our hearts in the grief

of our confusion,

in a thankful paradigm,

we might suggest,

perhaps another day,

because tonight everything is so fresh –

there is an ultimatum

in the sweet peace of love.

 

There is a cathartic happening today,

meant to suggest love,

in the confusion of wondering why,

it is his soul chosen today.

For all of our heartfelt passion,

for life and the responsive nature

of letting our lives speak loud,

for the loss of a mechanical truth,

suddenly surreal in His sensual sky,

we do know love today,

and the Creator has sung song today,

in the eyes of this Elder is the compassionate way,

we know love, we know love, is this day.

Depression Seldom Defines

There is a part of me remains inclined

to let the world imagine me undefined.

That’s originality

or our quest toward individuality.

What’s my reality,

I’ll tell you only if you listen to me,

but there’s the struggle,

the obstacle between knowing and telling,

is the inherent nature of a sadness

overcomes our own desire to rid the madness.

 

While embarrassment can often expose

the true nature of the demons we hold,

our lives always remind ourselves that human nature

in all of its evidential plan to feature

mystique and an inherent chance to change,

still mocks the true reality of our game.

If we could wake to splendor every breaking sun

what would cause the need to wonder of our pain

if it became a surreal memory

rather than the constant reminder a soft cry might bring.

 

If we could know when to rely upon a need

might then our lives become less overshadowed

by a society suggests we always understand

rather than accepting confusion as a demand.

We are subjects of appraisal,

in the moment,

when while alone in our mind we do travel,

there are always a set of eyes nearby,

to ponder, to wonder, to initiate our own sense of

quiet surrender.

 

Oh to be that muse of everyone in their daily ongoings,

to know the key to survival in a storm would be our knowings.

Where Does the Edge Lie

I wonder sometimes

when trying to get there

or staying away

is the actual motive.

We live our lives in a melody

one offers the high, a wise aria,

while the other provides sullen

departure toward shallow –

~

a surface we might easily decide

to scratch, desecrate, to ugly

such is the natural course of life.

~

We find ourselves inside a blind

unforeseen turmoil of passion

that place, that hideous nation

of the seething nature of hate,

yet we cannot grasp the power

the everlasting urge to become

lost in the eroticism of despair,

a place we romanticize is there.

~

a surface we might easily decide

to scratch, desecrate, to ugly

such is the natural course of life.

~

When last I went on my search,

I could glance upon a cavern,

a place so very dark and sullen,

my world would disappear a certain

time to allow that physicality

displaced and maimed by nature

a slow and mindless vacuum

beyond the truth of our lives

~

a surface we might easily decide

to scratch, desecrate, to ugly

such is the natural course of life.

~

Beside that place we do easily find

is some hope, a gift of attitude

a place where often we might glance

at elegance, the truism of our love

In there we can become the energy

that satisfy the lust of apprehension

where fear and trepidation bask

to wait, to envelop, to swallow whole.

~

Perhaps a dance, a mellow tune, a harp

coupled with sunlight’s brilliant task

toward letting our lives become alive

could be a better path to ask,

when seeking the edge of some place

some quiet normalcy, we think to need.

Perhaps the pattern of our lives contains,

no specific lines meant for design.

Anxiety Rush

I think the day was rather sunny,

at least that I recall,

layered in my own shawl

a travesty of the fall of humanity.

~

Could we ever move in freedom

if when we blink an eye

there is the question why

should we attempt design a kingdom.

~

When while a spiritual guide exists

in the hearts and mind

of the many who remind,

when is it that faith insists.

~

Can you see my eye, the fear I contain,

might reveal my inside

persona I keep beside

me as safely tucked away I can maintain

~

Some dignity of form I revel in

walk the streets clean

knowing that my machine

has met the standard; a societal win

~

now a certain grayness overcomes

the temperate nature of mine

a loathsome place I do incline

to share with no one; beat the drums.

~

When while I wallow in self-pity in frame

here now why would you let me join the game.

Speak Silence

When the hour will wane,

our heart is out of place,

when we wish only disdain

when logic has no trace

we might imagine a different take

on the notions ahead,

a far greater value at stake

than an ego’s reactive head.

Can we ever imagine,

just a singular reaction,

might we step out of the din

of our constant affirmation.

I walked alone through a crowd,

with all of the eyes quite askance

I felt I might be wearing a shroud,

if in conversation I took a chance.

We might recognize there is true value

when understanding betters our view.

Just Today

© ester rogers photography

© ester rogers photography

Only this moment,

all else matters little,

in your world, that one across

the street,

where the tracks can never meet.

Think about what happens in that world,

know it will happen again,

maybe the same way

or it could really be different again,

depends how far we want to take our

differences.

~

We can look at each other today,

just today,

realize all else matters little,

that’s a point so lost in the rhetoric,

the longing, lacking, little regard in mind,

beyond our own needs.

~

Do you realize just how easy it might be,

to laugh about the same events rather than

keep them safely tucked away in that place,

that shallow grave of repression

that allows no one else to dare cross into.

Perhaps if we let go of yesterday,

we might begin to see that notion of

just today,

just how easily we might move forward

together.

~

Perhaps that’s too easy,

we need that conflict to define ourselves.

Isn’t that what they teach us in the schools.

Or maybe they don’t – I cannot remember.

It is summertime,

when the sunlight is streaming such significance,

we all seem to want to forget about everything else,

just drop a line in the water,

take a hike,

yet remember we are all coming back again,

to that place

that notion

that suggestion.

~

Be ourselves,

so let’s do that. Together if

well, drop all the individuality jargon,

recognize what is real with each other,

just today.