"Don't put things off…it may be later than you think."
“Outstanding”
Sometimes it’s hard to stand out
Standing up for others that can’t
Backing down bullies’ braggadocio
There are people out to hurt others
Afraid to help others
And ignore their suffering
Enjoying the struggle
Yet—
Some still stand out against that
Hands outstretched
Elevating others
Those are the ones…
That stand out
For me, for you, for all
Standing for righteousness
Standing on
Standing up
Standing out
“Alone From Me”
I don’t know how to be
In a place—alone from me
Sustaining sanity
A misleading reverie
Impatience patiently
In a place—alone from me
Existential parity
Haunts this lucid waking dream
A calm collective calamity
In a place—alone from me
Isolation bursting seams
Old companions take their leave
A desert mirage fleetingly
In a place—alone from me
Unsightly vision still unseen
Alone…alone…alone from me
“Resolution Infinitive”
When you can’t run…
All you want to do is run.
So, run when you can,
Because you never know when you will be unable to run.
Three hundred sixty-five days ahead with which…
To live, to write, to laugh, to think, to reflect, to act, to try, to experience, to fail, to succeed, to mend, to discover, to assist, to uphold, to care, to help, to learn, to mourn, to discipline, to develop, to grow, to understand, to listen, to empathize, to give, to invite, to allow, to celebrate, to cuddle, to create, to read, to human, to celebrate, to guide, to teach, to hope, to weep, to hug, to hold, to grab more from the universe than you were allowed
To grab more from the universe than you were allowed
“Rain, Dear?”
Splatters drip abundant
Down sloped trolley exoskeletons
Wintering coats repel most water…
But, not all
Surgical masks punctuate the crowd
Riders on then off
The catastrophe of a wet commute
Hangs soggy on the brows of all
“The Pages Between”
Sometimes at the margins…
You discover the pages between
The ones to add
The ones to take away
The ones to cherish
The ones to loathe
Saving some for later
Staring some down
Pushing lead friction
Ability meets imagination
Right there—
The pages between
It is NOT a safe space
But…volatile, dynamic
An eruption of force
An unavoidable gravity
Nothing.
Consuming all
One finite point
Reaching critical masses
The pages between
Expanding ever outward
Until all is written on—
The pages between
“Mountains Misting”
Post dawn play awakens
Mountaintops pulling clouds down
Wisps of Wizard’s beards
Spied dancing among the tree line
Sun rays slicing through
Heralding the advance of day
Echoes of busy, travel valleyward
Surrounded by loud quiet
Peaceful energy vibrates
Nature reminds of its stature
Sunlight washes over peaks
Then tumbles down painting fauna
Jagged granite exposed
Playing hide and peak
Shadows finding the best spots
Tippity treetops tease vertigo
And a sky Godly blue reigns
Mountains misting distant points
Mark moments perceived in time
By the ferocious precious of human existence
What is a mountain misting to man?
What is a man to mountains misting?
“Counsel of the Crowd”
Boston Common jury pool
Sitting just to wait
Impaneled peers passing by
Hundreds of thousands of judgments
Rendered unconsciously
The horde wills itself
Despite small protests
Barrister bums profess innocence
Regardless of their guilt
Happy clams waiting to be plucked
Away from an unjust motion
To dismiss outright, doubt
Just is
Thumbs are on the scales
Just is
Only pretending to be blind
Just is
She’s in it for the handicapped placard
Just is
Courting the illusion
Writing to sit
Peers passing disaffected
Pooling common
Just is
“Desitin Daddy”
Desitin Daddy,
Quarantine savvy,
Whittling a day to wit’s end.
Working from home,
Never alone,
Zoom session lagging again.
A virtual classroom,
Diaper fresh ass-wound,
In need of calming cream.
For all of the crying,
Squirming and prying,
Dry bum bum makes him serene.
