Father

Pass away moment

Returns in memory form-

Foam drips down,  bubbles from a carwash

I give to my loved one’s transportation-

Transporting-

Transcending time,

Holding so much more, life that I adore

In her belly before

This memory came knocking at the door
Outside of you in blacktop basketball shoes shooting jumpers-

You were the news, everyday they don’t report-

You were the news, the stability and support

Every family needs-

Actions unheeded, the quiet one

Going about his business

Fulfilling his duties of fatherhood and husband

Good deed after good deed

Godspeed, day and night

Emotions out of sight if not for the occasional outburst-

We were okay with it, in a way it reaffirmed that you cared

About how we fared

Out in the cold air,

Filling our hearts with love

Giving sis and I a good start, and we’ve never grown apart-

These are the memories stored away I won’t ever part with, of you and mom

Unconditionally giving,

We all go on living, extending this family

That grows with tender loving care,

Nurtured and nourished, as it always was

And will be.

Freedoms

Freedoms

 

The leaves of tall, mortal trees

(Part of the landscape of every free nation,

(Part of the immortal seed)

Tumble helplessly,

Withered, bitten and stained

Like good, decent men—

Loyal to the roots

Loyal to the birth of mortality, our humanity

Loyal to the foundation and structure constructed

By men who came before, standing large and proud

Though none higher than our mortal trees

(Part of the singular deity),

Bearing many different kinds of sweet, juicy fruit in our time,

And for tens of thousands of generations coming before,

History tells us.

If man were lucky

He might touch,

Nest, nurture and grow for himself

A roundish piece of ripened unique, maybe a few—

Taste.

But will man ever ask himself if this is worth going to war for?

Does man ever ask himself what is worth going to war for?

We are all instinctual animalistic things.

What do I preserve?

What do I protect?

Who do I serve?

Questions go unasked. 

Am I more than this influx of adrenaline?

That which I have named,

That which I have observed.

We are all freed men, those standing under unwavering flags of “justice,”

Yet all we do is fight amongst ourselves.

And every season men die faster

Then leaves already falling

Come to rest at the feet of grieving widowers—

Many words on the lips of men and women.

Go.

Unspoken.

Like those in captivity having no voice,

For we must be their voice,

And yet we turn a blind eye—

It is no wonder,

For we stumble in search of our own

Clumsily interrupting the peaceful silence of dark.

We cannot see clearly the very truth,

That this is no dilemma, free against free—

It is illusion, a perpetual, worldwide, drama-plagued hypocrisy

That will rot and die with the unified enactment of a single vision:

Uniting all of man

With freedom,

Ending suspicion.

Or else each tree will fall.

There is almighty fruit of this generation

That can spell the end for us all.

Now and Long Before Our Time That is Now

It’s starts with a poem,
Sung before the stretches of lands
And all other plans for seascape and life, daylight and night
Crawl into focus under brushstrokes of right intention—
Slowly birthing innocence beneath the hurried scrawls of adulthood signature on
Every dotted line
That account for all things material,
Atonement for the debts of bets lost or won, chances taken or not
Other avenues of existence
Possibility, potential
Thoughts and ideas minds might otherwise dwell on and use
To formulate worry out of past folly and mortal foible
Losing sense of the present, gifting life to the nonexistent
Giving up rights to speak, scurry
Once we have learned to listen to the good sense of our souls
And behold the power inside the chambers of heavy hearts held hostage—
Golden gates open, everything else fades
Worries dissipate, embracing fate fully
Left with nothing to do but honor what is true.

It is Light

It is light. She knew not what she would write. Sitting down. She began to let life speak for itself. It is the light guiding her from birth up to this moment, the only point worth making. The freedom is light guiding he who finds there is no meaning and that he can finally go and be no one. It is light in the darkest room beneath two thin sheets where there lie a body cold, shivering, surrounded by loved ones under one roof and those outside that sleep tenderly in the night, it is light under two eye lids shut that touch the cold and the warmth both, truly, and know the second can never end; not even death has that much power. It is light that leads her light steps, heavy hurt real, honoring heart, continuing to follow the energy of soul, a path she has committed to in full. It is light, the acknowledgement of weakness. It is light, a child’s cry for her mother at night, part of each’s path. This is the mortal life beside the immortal evolution. All that hear, listen for and honor the light know these sounds well. Light does have a sound. It can be a big seashell up to your ear whooshing openness, widening eyes to cascading memories of child life by the sea. Taken away, the sound lingers still, though the body might sway, the mind, consider. It is inside of every one of us. Certainly. Certainty. Constant. The shell is just one more reminder. There is no such thing as “for no good reason” when you honor the light. It is light, not the answer, after all; there is only your true path and the off road. What is reason, after all? It is not something that guides. It is something we use. It is light shining through the crackled ground illuminating the imbalance in the soles of my feet; someplace my mind has led me to. I wouldn’t define it by labeling it good or bad. Perhaps, that is a start. Light has a warm feel, likewise, in the coldest moments. Truth is the closest word I know to describe the light I know little of, yet feel. It is light pulsing, radiating through the chambers of my chest, touching this arrhythmic heart. It is light eroding the mind’s need to define signals. It is light that disproves anything tangible, ideological, reasonable, and/or realizable as something worthy of consideration. Anything chased after is illusion, a cloaked shadow of false promises. One must only follow the light. Pursuits in line with truth naturally emerge; some will bear fruit. Things obtained along the path of light are not successes. Things lost along the path of light do not signify failure. It is light, ironically that is the only signal. We are not to assess the worthiness of our pursuits. We are not to define our lives, our thoughts, or our brethren. We are to connect to the light that is everywhere, by letting light in, and most importantly, by honoring the light inborn. It is light, the voice of our souls, to be followed. It is our duty to let the light from a higher truth shine brightest on this mortal plane.

Conviction

Lie two strangers

In a bed together

What led them to this chamber?

She who made the bed for he

Who bought her dinner

Deep down under

Left alone to wonder

When will the winter end?

When will a break of sunlight bend me back to new beginnings and will you join me?

When will you seem familiar?

When will you be my supportive pillar?

I know you ask of me the same,

Left alone to wonder

When will this winter end?

When will the harsh, cold wind blow favor on us both?

Stranger things have happened dear friend, old lover

Two lonesome broken faces, freshly fallen snow falls upon

Risen sun looks upon, the frozen heat between us earthly friction

I will wish upon our star, the one WE share

Still not understanding, but knowing you care, as I

To keep intact this special connection between us, silent is the music of our two souls together

Separate, from these noisy worlds of difference we both have fed

I will wish upon our star and let the trivial starve

I choose to live here with you

I choose to grow old with you

In this current state, we find ourselves

I trust that it is fate

I trust we are not too late.

A Thanksgiving Poem

Thank you Brother Wind,
Blowing sins, far away
Thank you Mother Earth,
Giving shelter, to everyone
Thank you Sunshine,
Keeping daughters warm long after summer's gone
Thank you Nightfall,
Boys come home, the war is over
Every year,
Every year, you reappear
Run through the forest
Barefoot, bleeding hearts out into open arms
The flag firmly in the ground, waives nicely
Welcoming everyone that gathers round-
It comes with the territory
This place still a mystery
Still full of surprises, disguises,
Jesters and wises,
A place where cries out loud of all kinds are allowed
A place where soft, little lullabies can soothe a crowd
And erase fakeness
Saying bye bye to the fraud in us all
Returning us all to grace after the fall
For the higher stuff we ought to laud
We rally, applaud
United
Hailing
"Twenty four seven
Earthen is heaven
Authentically picking up the pieces
Giving lives longer leases
We live more,"
Delivering us from the yearlong need to deceive
Interweaving and succeeding at new, truer hellos
The tone, a modest bellow
We, the proud are mellow
And "We eat together, today
Move together, in the same way
The message is clearly on display,"
Appreciation,
Thanks,
Gratitude and romance
In the good times we share,
In the bad times we will care for one another,
God made us this way today, amen.

Nature Observes

He walks along the pathway

In a thoughtful way

As if to say

So what it’s only rain—

The buds of bare tree tips

Refrain from growth and coolly quip

How light the

Moisture drip—

Hardened ground

Absorbs the pound

Without so much as a peep,

Noting consistency in sound

All around

Coming from the streets,

Peppered with ice, snow and sleet

Soft and weathered by the wayward sheets—

Rain sleekly freezes over

Begins to cover

In a second’s time, an earlier sentiment

Rebirthing trust in the name

We give to the end of every year

Elemental observance erasing fear

Believing in the old familiar signs

As they appear.