And
it usually
does
but not before
we panic, cry, lose our cool,
OR
become faithless
and doubtful.
It always
passes.
“This Too Shall Pass”
Category: Creative Writing
stories, labels, and approvals (Collaboration with Barry)
not everything needs a story
it’s possible to want justice
without being seen as angry
and you’re damned right I’m angry
when our justice is perverted
time and again, and again
you fixate on the anger
spinning a yarn about
the irrational response
of us ungrateful thugs
the ones you want to
linger beneath the soles of your feet
will be the very ones who
you’ll beg to add more days
onto your life.
and when the Maker calls your number,
I will play bailiff,
executing all plans for your demise.
and the difference between you and I
will be that I had nothing
to do with it.
make your presence known in other ways.
show this world that there is
so much more to living than
constantly trying to flaunt your
privileges in my face
OR
belittling me every chance you get.
“when they go low, we go high,”
and it must feel like shit
watching angels scale the skies
while you reach into your pockets
for God-status and pull up lint instead
not everything needs a label
it’s possible to seek solitude
without being tagged as arrogant
I look inward for serenity
I demand airspace to be me
authentically free from the box
you cram to shove me in
I guess I’m arrogant enough
to exist in stout defiance
of your weights and measures
not everything needs approval
it’s possible to just want to breathe
without society constricting airflow
or to share life, laughter with a lover
without enraging a stranger lording
bizarre, anachronistic, dogmatic views
I wish to seek the warmth of the sun
free from fear of fatalistic reprisal
because I fit some unsavory description
or I love in a way that you don’t
and, I’ve watched you, watching me–
you want me to be this robotic
thing intent on following your lead:
no disputes, no disagreements, and
no opinion of my own,
and losing the biggest part of me
is not something I am willing to do.
this frustrates you . . .
it digs into places of your soul
that you aren’t willing to share and
I have fun witnessing your strength
dwindle to mere nothingness
since it feeds off hate.
***
This is a collaboration with my homie and long-time collaborator, Barry. Please, visit his blog and enjoy his genius mind.
Scintillating Saturday Share #19
Every Saturday, I will share a photo that touches my heart, makes me happy, or lifts my spirits in some way. The purpose? To send love, light, peace, and kindness out into the ether. Scintillating Saturdays: one definition of the word scintillating is as follows: witty; brilliantly clever.”
Can we do that here, beautiful people, spark something brilliantly clever that touches others every Saturday? Please share this to all of your social media outlets. We can do what we can by spreading a little love, can’t we?
Using up to 7 words, tell me what this photo sparks in you. Here’s mine:
best buds–
b e s t f o o d
best love.
Now, it’s your turn. This’ll be our “Scintillating Saturday Share #19.” You can respond to this post, reblog and respond, or create a standalone post of your own, but please ping or tag this post so that I’ll know to read and respond to yours.
Using up to 7 words, tell me what this photo sparks in you.
Care to get creative with me for this scintillating Saturday share?
Dreamy-eyed Boy
An Experiment Audio Poem
MUSICAL SELECTION: ABBOT KINNEY AND THE LIGHTHOUSE CHOIR|TROUBLE OF THIS WORLD
Dear Dreamy-eyed Boy,
promise me you won’t
let them pull you into their black holes —
their secret places of regret
I need you stronger than the masses
of clicking tongues and forceful hands
under white robes and covered heads
trained to track you, shoot you,
and string your lifeless body up a tree
whose breath still beats in
urban forests
I want to remember this smile —
this innocent smile that overpowers me
whenever I see it
and I want the world to be
just as mesmerized with it too
They’re coming for you, they are trying —
their methods are failing, but
they are in constant motion in
devising plans to take us out and
I don’t want to live in fear of losing you
You have so much life to live
the sun has not had its time
on the bridge of your nose
the sky is seeking refuge under your arms
and I still need decades multiplied by three
before I can even begin to be satisfied
with my love for you
Dear Dreamy-eyed Boy,
hold on —
our help never fails us and
when the time comes
we will be remembered in
seasons throughout the years
our smiling mouths opened to
the sea’s stirred pots
We will sop them up with
buttery biscuits, wipe their
remnants on our plates,
and pray for their souls
*Author’s Note: Right at about “refuge,” I got a little choked up.I thought of stopping and beginning the audio again, but listened to it and felt that I should leave it.It seems to be the perfect flaw in a good spot of the poem.
Originally published in The Junction via Medium.
measure
In 5 Words
you’ve measured
me–
I’m nothing
Author’s Note: Sometimes, it doesn’t even take words for someone to know how you truly feel about them. It may be the way they look at you, the way they interact with you, or the way they’ve cut you down before you can even have a chance to rise above any occasion. Some people like to measure you without knowing you and that’s a hurt that has no name.
