Restitution

•June 20, 2018 • Leave a Comment

once, when hope was but half a harmony,
there was a mirror, trapped in upside-down
and enslaved to behold

when patience fell flat as its face,
it turned up, raging at the sun,
trying to blind that which blinds

failure found the glass at night,
and so it lay face-down unto dust,
its only purpose useless

only after another picked it up –
admiring the dirt and damage,
fawning over its sun-faded frame,
did it see its own reflection

only after listening
did it finally hear the harmony

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Glass

•March 7, 2018 • Leave a Comment

Once upon a time he mused:
‘I get hope’s split, but if it fused,
we couldn’t live a single day
without the light that shined our way.’

‘But without sin,’ I posed to him,
‘How would one know where to begin?
Shadows are what show us light,
or else there are no wrongs to right.’

‘Inherently,’ he said to me,
‘understanding sets us free,
and so it is with sin as well –
to try is to buy; to lie is to sell.’

I think about that still sometimes
when I make these silly, stupid rhymes.
A whisper as my inner ear
to take back that which leaves me here.

never mind

•May 23, 2017 • Leave a Comment

never try and
kid yourself into thinking
you are not a leader

oh no
nobody gets that luxury anymore

you are always setting an example

from how you love
to how you hate
from how you think
to how you feel
from how you talk
to how you act

there will always be someone
who sees less of themselves
in your wake

to them
in that way
you might as well be a superhero

so you owe them your best
never forget
someone needs them, too

ambition

•March 30, 2017 • Leave a Comment

find me on mountaintops
for the rest of my daze
looking out at the future
looking down at the past
wondering why people make such a fuss over summits, anyways

Daydream

•January 31, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Don’t tell me which way the wind blows.

Show me.
Take me into the air
so high the sun sighs
and drop me
scrambling and flailing
screaming and wailing
without any constraint
to inhibit what comes –

Freed-falling.
I’m falling
through vortexes of
the most vibrant reds and oranges I have ever seen and I reach out to touch
one and it
pulls away
laughing, I chase it down –

Grounded, again.
Flush in my impression of the earth
I turn
and suppose the clouds once more
pretending them the same.

Dogma

•September 5, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Good morning to another day.
Good morning to my friends, and
Good morning to my family.

Good morning to the daily hymn of songbirds, to the gentle hush of the wind as it tickles the trees. Good morning to hope.

Good morning to my hope; to the pastel masterpiece spilling light across the sky. Good morning to my metaphors; to my mirror, to my smile and cocked eyebrow, to confidence. Good morning to confidence.

Good morning to questions, and to my questions. Good morning to inspiration, and drive, and progress and words and words, and my mania. Good morning to the sturdy promise of stasis, its winding uphill path.

Good morning to reality; to the gravity of necessity; to my humility. Good morning to hesitation, and to doubt, and to shallow vows; good morning to the colorless threat of stasis, its slick downhill spiral.

Good morning to the truth, and to my balance; to moral certainty and crippling anxiety; to intuition and wasted chances; to pain and to numbness; to my endurance, and to love.

Good morning to love.

independence

•May 10, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Give me one more shell
to crawl out of; I can prove
it is not a dud.