Are We All The Same

Do we feel pain

rather simple agony

stepping upon cracks

forgetting  what is civility.

 

Sitting in another quiet

century

last one

got away from me.

 

Wandering in my mind

his heart became

a wonder

just how far our lives –

 

Could we see

the light of day

when the birds own

the world with melody.

 

Might we all see the truth

in love

rather than the pain

in inherent  with difference?

 

Walk away from deceit,

rather knowing life is a feat.

 

Breaking Apart Wrath

This communication

a desire to know,

to understand

a device inside a spectacular mind,

drowned in the circumstance of vice

each community

drawn by memory

responsive to a quiet solace,

always drawn by the tension

the human condition

a societal mandate,

how would you respond

to a crying appeal,

we want what feels right

rather than the circumstance

of indecions

and disparaging commentary,

so while away

the coming day

or decide upon a travail

a sojourn toward

peach of mind.

In Respect to Anger

A friend of mine

told me the truth today,

said in a matter of fact way,

you are too angry man,

life is too short.

I paused,

put away my defenses

began to wonder about my

starting words,

and came to the conclusion,

I’m always

this or that or why or because or they

yet somehow I’m never too me.

 

Life is too short,

life is too sweet

life is a carnival

and yet we never quite

make it to the

presidential suite

 

Instead we look for someone else

to take the blame,

and so standing in the parking lot

tonight,

I felt my eyes did well with tears

realized my exhaustion has a purpose

allows me to come to terms

with who I am what time I have

life is a carnival after all,

we should remember just how to

enjoy the ride.

My Personal Insomnia

Step into my world

a man

frazzled yet still

a remarkable breather

able to stand

to negotiate

appreciate some aspect

of life.

 

Not perhaps until the day

for tonight,

his life remains behind

invisible bars

that only allow him

to remind,

to replay,

to re-evaluate

and always the same thing

every time

no solution,

only another night,

he won’t sleep

he might rather weep.

 

The insomniac on so many

levels,

this one though has a simple

solution,

stop checking for the same outcome

the clicking, the wandering, the wishing,

an inevitable drain

in the human psyche

 

until finally he might realize

tomorrow is another day,

oh my

life really is a sad cliche.

A Canyon Rite of Passage

the reality of time

outtakes and fantasy

easy climbs sheer cliffs

human mortality

tested in a tourist

manner of conceit.

 

One afternoon,

a quiet gentleman

decided his time

an essential promise

reached its end

how easy the edge.

 

Standing alone

he imagined

just how far

might be the land

would they even know

those that had …

 

A silent reckoning

No one would speak

again of the torturous

nature of losing hope,

and instead,

instead.

 

He walked away

head held high.

“We Are All Human”

I’ve been thinking about New Zealand along with the rest of us since Friday morning.

Yesterday evening I was sitting in a coffee shop that is a frequent meeting place for a group of Somali men. I go there often enough to recognize their faces and exchange pleasantries. Last night was different. They along with a community of their family, friends, colleagues had to endure the tragedy of a mass shooting in New Zealand where 50 (current count) people of Muslim faith where gunned down in senseless violence by a white terrorist. The killer carried with him a manifesto that attributed the influence of our current POTUS and his remarks toward the Muslim faith. The dead are sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, co-workers, colleagues, neighbors, grandparents, elders, friends … the list goes on and ought to sound familiar to everyone. They are people, like you and me.

I am a high school English teacher. Earlier in the day, my students watched a Ted Talk by Suzanne Barakat titled Islamophobia which spoke to the loss of her brother, his wife and their friend in a senseless shooting in North Carolina in 2015. Same situation, different white terrorist, a hate crime against the Muslim faith. Looking at her Facebook page today, I discovered her brother and his wife and friend were killed four years ago on February 10th, 2015. Just over a month ago, and her comment on her page last night after the news of the New Zealand tragedy was very brief, “I can’t. I just can’t.” I have to wonder how frightened or angry or defeated she feels today.

As I left the coffee shop last night, I looked at the men in conversation together and felt compelled to approach them. I told them they were all in my heart, and they thanked me and nodded their heads in understanding. One man looked at me and said, ‘We are all human,” and I shook his hand and he said it again.

We are all just human beings. Is there any other explanation to give people of the Muslim faith, or people of color, or people that are different than ourselves a reason to be respected? One of the messages from Suzanne Barakat is to speak to your neighbors. Even if it feels like a small gesture , she said it will have miles of impact. It is a start, and today, the healing needs to begin.

We are all simply human beings.

Please practice love today.

 


 

Islamophobia – Suzanne Barakat

When Walking in the Wood

I noticed tonight,

a deeper darkness

filling the mysterious quiet

of the wood, a forest of our mind.

 

We choose now today to be afraid,

we could walk freely

when in the stone castles

a moat our greatest fear.

 

Oh certain there were evil

lurking inside the shallows,

yet vulnerable as we might

have been, then it was so rare.

 

Today, and every day now,

it is not simply the forest life

watching our every move,

yet it is a jungle of lost humanity.

 

Such is a definitive cry of woe

to know our lives in a technical

brainwash of social embrace,

we forget a silent walk when alone.

 

Oh to know that forest of old

a place whereby our lives so bold.