walk life’s forest floor
and you will see human fear
darkness surrounds all
even one’s breath’s shrouded in
survival’s desperation
fear
now i lay me down to sleep…
when the lights
go out
childhood fears
re-emerge
shadows
become
demons
hurried
whispered words
to god
to
renew
youth’s contract
a flimsy excuse…
we can do nothing
it’s always been that way
we’ve tried before
perhaps the problem is
i instead of we
growing up with death…
the young don’t fear death
its face is so familiar
just an old neighbor
who comes into other’s lives
unseen as their visitor
critical white race theory…
so
many stories
told
that
we hold to be true
but
most
are not
just
creations
for
justification
blackout paint
to conceal
the blood graffitied
highway walls
of
history
cover-ups
for
fear
that the truth
could
indeed
set us
free
or
at least
make
them
see
their
shame
dark damp ground…
leading a walk
through
the rainforest
the naturalist
said
it’s always
the one thing
you fear most
that shows up
during these walks
be it poisonous
bugs
or
snakes
and
sure enough
loudly strolling
through
the forest floor
an off course
politician
letting go…
the shadows
that
once
occupied my fears
have
become
friends
ushering me
into
what was
always
life’s
fate
whispered…
though
i’m not at liberty
to
provide
any details
a
word
of
caution
might
be appropriate
the package
of
perks
given to you
as
part
of
your
induced
birthright
owing
to your
race
should be carried
quite
carefully these days
there are stories
not
of robbers
that
you’ve been
taught and told
to
fear
but
rather
those pretending
to be
your brothers
the ones
carrying
stones
hidden behind
their
veil
of
lies
when vision fails…
what’s
before us
seems less
clear
the details
like
the truth
cannot be
distinguished
from
what
is hidden
in
lies’ shadows
those
words
between
the words
said
that are
so easily confused
with
reality
for
most disciples
of
tykhe
desire
that
their
beliefs
are
the gospel truth
though
most often
they
are not
rather
they’re
a convenient tool
for
political salesmen
to use
to
sell their snake oils
seems like
carnivals
have not
really
gone
out of style
in
the political circus
public schmucks
continue
to toss
balls of dollars
at
leaded kewpie dolls
that only fall
when
the peddler’s bank account
has reached
a stage
of
overflowing
or
the poor sap
is
about
to walk
away
before
their pockets
have been
fleeced
completely
to
fund
an undeserved
retirement
for
personal
public
service
at
which point
the only one
needing
a white cane
is
the public
resolute…
you’re hell bent
on
ignorance
unwavering
in
your pursuit
of
dominance
over
anyone
in order
to
conceal
the paltry state
of
your existence
each slur
from
your lips
reveals
your fears
and
that
you have
and
are
nothing
Read Between the Minds 