there must be something wrong..

that clock
on
the wall
doesn’t seem
to
move
at all
i’ve been sitting here
for
an eternity
listening
and watching
that
clock
on the wall
and
it hasn’t moved
one
quarter
of
an inch
while
the out pouring of words
seems
quite
disproportionate
to
the
time that passed
i’ve swung
my feet
in every possible direction
while
posed
upon
this pew
and
been told
by
mom
to
just
sit still
until
the sermons
done
but
it seems to me
he’s attempting
to
recreate
what god
took
six days
to
do
why can’t
we
just
cut to the chase
and
get
to that final
amen

 

escape from each other…

we are
from
the beginning
confined
to
within the lines
from
kindergarten
until
we are
unceremoniously
covered
with dirt
and
placed
into neat rows
with
the occasional
rebel
stuffed
into
a ceramic jar
a jar
to
be placed upon the shelf
along with
the
other
knickknacks
collections
of
framed
photos
or
mementos
from
cruise ships
none the less
we are
still confined
to
stay within
the
predefined borders
of
existence
attempts
to
escape
through meditation
or
encampment
at
some
wall to wall
walden pond
merely
represents
movement
to
another part
of
life’s venn diagram
it seems different
but
one’s thoughts
are
still within the cramped space
of
musings of others
unable
to
truly
be
independent

 

self-protection…

before
their eyes
opened
fine threads
of
social expectation
were
layered
around
the infant form
distorting
the view
of
the outside world
and
stunting
the growth within
an arrested development
caused by
a malnutrition
of
truth
as had been expected
with such containment
there were fatalities
but such deaths
were easily
projected onto upbringing
and

or
personal parental failures
leaving the society
blameless
those that
finally
emerged
from
the cultural cocoon
were
as
had been planned
unable to discern
social injustice
accepting
the white cane
of
forced poverty
that denied
them access
to
most of the entry points
of
success
living their lives
as
moths
flutter around
the flame
of
hate
most disconcerting
to
the oligarchy
however
were
the few
that emerged
as
dragons

 

nyctophobia…

count
the heartbeats
passing
before you
as if
each
beat
is the sound
of
their footsteps
feel
their pulse
in
the blinks
of
their eyes
the
flow of their existence
in
their facial
postures
and
their demise
in
the silence
of
night
that darkness
where
you’re
unable
to
sleep
for
fear
of
your own death
now i lay me
down
to sleep

 

scientific investigations…

the old fan
painted the body
with cool air
in
broad strokes
from
head to toe
as
rivulets
arising
from
the sleepless child
meandered
their way
downward
to
the bed sheets
attempting
to reach
the sea
though
this point
was
a mere
hypothesis
that
the child
had developed
after watching
a classroom video
it was one
of
many
theories
developed
from
similar scientific
presentations
the one
on
pollination
for example
made
it necessary
to
never use
the same
q tip
between
the two ears
for
fear of
the resulting consequences
one can never be too careful
the child thought
further
since energy
cannot be created
or
destroyed
and
humans were
in fact
containers
of
energy
it followed
that
ghosts
were real
though evidence
for
that theory
was based more on
stories
presented
by
his uncles
and
neighborhood friends
during
night exploration trips
and
usually
as
the campfire
became
no more than
ashes
however
it was
a logical conclusion
given
classroom lectures
and
the reliable testimony
of
family and friends
now
i’m certain
that
this child’s hypotheses
may bring a smirk
to your face
but
what do you
believe
that is
no more than hearsay
about
the world
and
the people
in
it

 

departure…

canopy
conceals
the stars and moon
darkness
shrouds the source
of
sounds
in
a veil
of
fear
sounds
come from
all
directions
none louder
than
the boy’s
pounding heart
as
shallow breaths
join
the chorus
of
fear
suddenly
strong scents
fill
his nostrils
it’s like
an approaching death
pulse
quickens
he
lowers his body
to
the ground
becoming one
with
the earth
then
a torch
is lite
he is encircled
by
his elders
bapa dola
speaks
saying
each hunter
must have empathy
for
their prey
the taking
of
life
for survival
means
the end
of
survival
for
another
so
should be done
with
respect
and
understanding
of
the prey’s fear
a fire
was lit
and
the elders
brought forth
nature’s offerings
for
a boy
was now
a man

 

no good deed…

grew up
in
small
midwestern town
surrounded
by
liberal friends
and
family
so
almost
forgot
i
was
black
but
couldn’t avoid
cultivated racism
even
when
protecting
a poor white friend
with
polio
as
he dragged
one foot
being
taunted
by
neighborhood bullies
he decided
to
side
with
his white tormentors
when
they challenged
his
whiteness
he chose
to
turn on me
that’s
how deeply
slavery’s caste system
has been
embedded
in
the social fabric
of
the consciousness
of
even children
lesson
learned
even
after
a
red hot branding iron
loses
it’s
visible signs
of
danger
it
can
sear
the flesh
burning
into
the days
that
follow