Daily Situation

I walked into the store
three things happened to me
a woman asked for a cigarette
a man asked me for change
the clerk gave me a dollar bill.
So I opened a pack I didn’t smoke
I gave up the dollar even though
I was broke
and decided the way of the world is
this simple
we do to others what we do to others
because we are so inclined to do so
the situation of our inclinations has
nothing to do with the ability of
the suits we are wearing but
the sense of responsibility
of knowing it is human
to care.

Get up!

There is no better time than now

to affect the affliction of our times

with the audacity of living

free.

There is no better time

to take of the masks

and be.

There is not better time

no better day

or night

to get up in the face of boot souls

in the face of fist throws

in the face of invisible

indivisibly caging

unilatterally scathing

hatred

and breath deeply

the audiable sounds

of our future victories

the defended youth

the battered and bruised….

becaues if we don’t

get up

we will all

fall down.

 

so GET UP!

Love after war

War.
Guns blaze.
fire scorching
the heat of democracy
and the desires of
freedom desperate
souls.
battles
wage.
in streets
behind cascading stones
while drones
fly over head
searching
with electronic eyes
for an enemy.
Innocence
loses
its way
as the young get younger
pick up swords
instead of plays and
I have to wonder
can there ever be
love after war.
Will the season
of our discontent
making life to suffer
unrelent
-ing horrors of
our mistakes
ever be redeemed
in the waking
forgetfulness
of morning?
Will the
blood on our hands
the impression of death
stamped into the sand
of our march
ever fade?

Will rich men in
high towers
ever stop laying
waste
to poor men
with elongating hours
will the
other reverse course
and demand discourse?
can we ever meet in the middle
can we
ever
find
love after war.
…

Every day the news
paper dreams in smoke
lay plain the drama of the day
Men dragged from homes
Women stripped and shorn
Children’s hands bound
with the weapons of
war
de constructing truth
de constructing lives
and
all I want to do is
hold my hand to my head
close my eyes
reading no more
because
I’m not so sure
its possible to
have
love after war.

Notice

(in progress)

Notice me
falling in the wrong direction
Notice the color change
of the shadow’s intention
the break neck speed
of masked perception
and understand
beneath this breath
this breast
this lung filled with
unrelented
unreleased
scream
all I want
is for you
to
Notice me

Notice

 

Taste the Rainbow – thoughts on a shooting

In the minds of many there are only two
there is no shade
no definition of hue
white to be hated
black to be hated
…. no rainbow
no brilliant red
no shade of blu
no confident green
or boldly orange and yellow
there are no exceptions
only rule.
I get all the anger
I myself am enraged
ENRAGED…. at the suffering
of innocence and the
blood spilled every day.
but blaming an other
won’t find justice this day.
Evil is done
it exists in every shade, shape
and shadow
and the irony is
Good can wear
a similar face.
so… how do we tell
when there is evil about?
I can tell you what it is not…

It’s not a bag of skittles
it is not the hat, hood or hair
its not the jeans, the shirt
or the shoes that they wear
no height, not the weight
not the shadow or shade…
No
it is the gun in the hands
of men who wield only fear
and unfortunately for us all
they come in every shade
just as the skittles that fell to the ground
and silenced you that day.

:: May we remember this and fight injustices for all people of all color, all creed, all age, all gender… who we are is not the fabric God sewed us in, nor the place the Divine placed us on this earth, but the character we have while we are here – may we remind people who wield only fear that we will not scummed to their vision of the world but that we will stand together to fight atrocities wherever they may be::

Pain, on an intellectual level

I am experiencing pain, on an intellectual level

all this heart ache from regress

and distress

fool situations

has given rise to a depression

and negotiated

my hearts demise.

Am I the only one who

has figured it out

who sits in disbelief

at the words

we all shout?

News on one station or

another calls the opposite its enemy

Blames all the hate in the world

on one single presidency

and fails to accept any

ANY responsibility

Color and gender

are thrown out the window

because opposites

are surely the problem…

right?

I mean if your black your…

if your white your…

if your a woman your….

if your gay, straight, tall, or short…your

…what?

wrong?

your life is worth

less

because God made you

different? and really?

is that the excuse?

the reasoning for all this

abusive behavior?

What are we teaching

the younger

generations?

What lessons can they impart

from the way we

deal with each

each other

from person to nation

I can tell you in part…

we have children dying

at the hands of those to keep us safe

running to survive

under intense situations

with red or blue

or some cryptic

new gang marketing team

selling their brand of deliverance

at the cost of their soul

We have churchs hating

the ones they should love

and the love that we share

just isn’t enough

One gets blamed for the end of the world

while bullies take note

and help end the life of a boy

or girl just getting ready to fly

instead we visit funerals

because they were made

to feel life was a lie…

….I really am experiencing pain,

because this could all go away

or at least be easier to handle

if we just stopped

for a minute…

stopped

for a minute……

stopped.

WAKE UP!

Wake up world are you listening

there is a crisis of mental proportion

enslaving visions of difference

into deviations

of darkness

when in reality all we are

is each other’s favored keeper

meant to lift each other up

and  keep away

the reaper.

we have two hands

so we can lend one

so why don’t we?

Wake up worl are you listening?…

((workign draft… still working))

Lift one person up

Lift one person up today –
even if that person is
you.
Because despite
whatever or whoever
is in your way
pushing down
or telling you to stay
away,
that
you are different
unworthy
unloved
un-[Insert any word here you would want to be]
you are none of those things

You are beautiful…. the way you are….

and I don’t mean only
after you get dressed
after you have put on make- up
tied your best tie
done your hair
or put on your favorite [insert any fav attire here]
I mean naked to the soul
down right open and readable
from the scar on your left cheek
that no one can see
to the birth mark you hide
to the hand you want to hold
to the secrets you’ve never told
to the thoughts screaming out
even when words can’t slipout …

you are beautiful.

And I am beautiful.
And you, and you, and yes
you in the back…

you are beautiful

AND without you – the world would be less beautiful…
don’t you get it….
Because I want you to get it
I want you to absorb
what I am telling you…
absorb the words
I am spelling out
here
at this mic
this stage
with these words
these hands
this heart…

There will be boots in your face
there hands barring your way
spit
fists
gut kicks and
laws from men you don’t even know
that try to break you
but if I have learned one thing
in my 38 years of living a life
– of which most of them were lived in ugly silence –
is that you are beautiful
and the more beautiful people standing
with you and beside you
that you
LET stand
with you
and beside you….
the smaller the ugly gets.

So

Lift one person up today – even if that person is just yourself… because despite whatever or who ever is in your way, pushing you down or telling you to stay away, that you are different, unworthy, unloved, un-[insert any word here you would want to be] – you are none of those things…

You.
are.
Beautiful.
The way you are.

Sum of my parts

I
am not the sum of my parts
let me say that again
I
am not the sum of my parts.

It required a number of conspiracies
and intricacies
for the universe to melt
and knit
this skin into the cover of me
but it is not the book
not the story
All that came to pass
is the past and
not given life
in this woman
you see.

I
am not the sum of my parts.
again…hear me
I
am not the sum of my parts.

The DNA of my person
derived from Irish, Cherokee, Italian and
German
which were mixed pre-them
to create the future of post-when
in the reflection of a color
off shaded and
and disguised
but

I am not the sum of my parts
do you hear me?
I am not the sum of my parts.

You see
I am sure there were assholes and saints
in the blood running through these veins
there are stories of love
stories of hate
stories of pain
gain
gun downed
and manipulate
but even all of this, though
in truth an interesting trip
does not
uncover and
discover
any of
this ::pointing to self::
because

I am not the sum of my parts
let me say it again
I am NOT the sum of my parts.

In this new math I am teaching
lets multiply and
divide
truth
fraction out meaning
beneath the cover of shades
and realize
I am not the great great uncle
who owned slaves
nor am I the woman
who birthed a child out of rape
I am not the brother
who sold out a sister
to the national party of days
nor am I the slander
from the lips of a father
sent early to his grave
I am not the sister stealing
not a mother dealing
not a past decision gone wrong and sealing
fate

Stop trying to make me
feel that way!

I
am not the sum of my parts!
I am a new creation
the remake of a hundred
successes and
mistakes
the second and third
chances
of lives gone right,
lives gone wrong
but don’t hold the sword
above my head for
the dealings of lives long since gone.

because
I
am not the sum of my parts
this near transparent shade
calls the feet trampled tribes
from Florida to graves
on trails of tears to their final destination
cheated of land out of violent contradiction
the forest hunter’s prey, the clock makers last day,
the masters daughter unable to save and the
poisoned Irish slave
but hear me again
and hear me from the heart

I am not
the sum
of my parts
and if you understand my meaning through
and through
that means
neither
are
you.

::speak peace and write on::

Philosophy

Be. Exactly. You.
Live spiritually, however you define it.
Walk with Compassion, not blindly devoted.
Speak your truth, defined by your own soul.
Do not let others dictate your path,
they don’t have to walk it – you do.
Do not let others diminish your task,
they don’t have to suffer the sacrifice – you do.
Be. Exactly. You.
Define yourself. Change always towards a growing you.
Rise up and meet the stars as if they were your own
because the constellations and conclusions are yours to draw.
Give a hand when a hand is needed.
But do not let a heel, strain upon your neck.
Find your strength, and live it.
be it words, or hands, or deeds.
And when your voice is given
let your hands follow through to the task.
Never let fear steal the lesson
and never lessen your self for fear.
This is my philosophy.
Be. Exactly. You.

Method of my madness

(Authors note:  this :: means using an action like ::walking:: or ::shaking head::)

The method of my madness has been quite mad, posting non-confrontational on the ‘book and trying to remain off the hook of salacious and malicious commentary only to find myself frustrated, and inebriated on a lust to scream. Yes a lust, a craving, a deep desire from the very inner workings of my soul, to lift of my laptop, pull it to my face and scream – ::screaming:: so you will hear me.

You, the every you, the you on my list and you in the grips of commenting on a life  you have no reason to care about but are caring about in a way that says heel meet their faces, carry them off to the nether places and let them dance with the devil I see in them… you the voter you, who feel the sanctity of your life is worth more than mine. That your deity is more divine and decidedly worthier than the deities I give honor too – so you

set forth rules in the image of your creation. You, make more righteous your words, in the comfort of your own images,… and you, suffer not the stigmata of your afflictions instead you send my heart to suffer and rot in utter frustration at my clamoring to honor my words of ’till death do us part – uttered in the dark, because of laws that firmly state if seen I should be fined, jailed… arrested. Yes. In this state, of being, this east coast living with the free. I. Am. Not.

So the method of my madness is quite mad and the words I have stored up in my head… the let me not get to loud, let me not be to proud, let me not rock the boat and hope this life continues to float madness of words are not working.

I just want to be free. be me. To set a table and share my hard work with the love I have fallen for, the creature so divinely inspired and made so perfectly for me. To honor, cherish, provide for and be provided for… without persecution and fear that any minute your whim or the law will take it all away….   ::hands in my head:: Don’t you get it!?   ::whispering:: this is my madness.  Mad to be free, me with her, for us. ::walking off stage:: free.