germination…

in that time
after dreaming
and
before rising
when you feel
you’re
neither a child
nor
an adult
it’s in
those
moments
of
true solitude
the mind begins to evolve
transcending believing
seeing
what has been
concealed
by
human dogma
and
hate

 

 

 

shamed out of existence…

seems like a lot a folks are hell bent on self-flagellation
imagining that their sins are somehow a unique creation
unlike any ever seen by any of the divine
thus only punishable by self-annihilation

but i’ve been wondering where this idea began
is it an innate psychological condition that lasts an entire life span
or has it been preprogrammed into minds by society
like so many childhood fears of the bogeyman

i suppose regardless of the source
one must reimagine their life’s course
to avoid being shamed out of existence
choosing not to yield to some malignant social force

morning affirmation…

before you rise
or even open
your eyes
recall a moment
of pure joy 
breathe deep
into that moment
fill your body
with its radiance
and
let that purity
sustain you
throughout the day

 

 

disassembled…

lord
that child is
always taking things
apart
can’t accept
what is
has to know
how things work
and
wants to know
the why
of
everything
ain’t never gonna 
fit in
oh
my goodness
did you see
the wonderful thing
that child
just made

 

 

oh go ahead whistle a happy tune…

songs should start the day
songs that fill the heart with joy
don’t begin the day 
with moans and groans about life
for i can assure you that
things will without doubt get worse

 

 

some housekeeping…

ever wonder
why
happiness
eludes you
maybe there’s
too much
of
yesterday’s old garbage
strewn around your todays
bits of 
anger and fear
decaying
in the corners
of your mind
my advice
would be
to
take out the trash

a celebratory funeral…

shadows
of
yesterday
linger
above
the sunrise
rays
of 
light
reflect off
discarded
silver streamers
and
paper party favors
those
souvenirs
of
a dying year
and
the birth
of
unkeepable promises
a rather
pontius pilate moment
for
most merrymakers
cleansing
their hands
of
previous episodes
of
existence
now
offering up
for
crucifixion
a new
covenant
commitments
covering
a range
of
declared weaknesses
from
health
to
social justice
a contract
no doubt
when
viewed
this time
next year
must have been written
in
invisible ink

 

 

not that person anymore…

wide-eyed optimist
carrying bible
from
one high school class
to
the next
reading the text
in
study hall
even
believing
that freedom
was
obtainable
along
with
unobstructed success
if one
only puts forth
honest hard efforts
but now
i’m
a self-defined survivor
all grown up
with
a greater sense
of
my own history
and
its stages
of
delusion
and
foolish trust
so now
i’m
drained
of
milk and honey
and
filled
with
the liquid steel
of
reality
and
truth
what about you

grasp straps and pull…

distant words
abhorring
overheard
intended
but
veiled in denial
then
an
all’s well smile
flutters before eyes
repeated gestures
of
oppressors
seen
more times
than
one can count
objective
to grease
success’ pole
before
anyone attempts
to
climb out
of
poverty’s pit
a pit
stared into
by
tormentors
from
its edge
gilded
with
promises
serrated sides
from which
despots
offer
encouraging words
and
relay
how they
arose
from the pit
but
they used
the
stairs

 

gnarled old trees…

been
rooted
in the broken promises
of
freedom
for
over two hundred years
so
it should be of no surprise
that
we have grown
roughened
in
our views
of
the future
and
misshapen
in
our attitudes
for
hope
and
justice
in
this nation
oh
when we were young
we could
easily bend
and
not break
when
the winds
of
ignorance and hate
forced
us toward the ground
then
we would rebound
and
once again
grasp at the sky
but
now days
we refuse to bend
nor
do we have to
we have
an outside
that has grown hardened
and
an inside
having knotty memories
of
the pain
of
our lifetimes
we have
grown
and
survived
like
african mahogany