Mud Puddles

I remember when I used to think mud puddles in springtime
were made of coffee mixed with cream
before i understood how caffeine rushed the blood in my veins.

I remember when I used to stand up feeling six feet tall
soaking up warm drops of rain
that surprise landed on my brain.

I remember when I wasn't aware that our land
was contaminated with poisonous gases asphyxiating the masses
leaving us with access to fewer less drops to drink.

I think back to when all I needed was
a good run with barefeet through
morning dewed grass before the school bell
rang me in to strangle my pleas.

And now I sit restless
understanding how much bigger this mess is
bringing us all down
so close to drowning out our voices.

We feel important enough to say who to blame
casting light on the names of men so weak they kill children.

And we sit and we watch and we talk about other people's shortcomings and forget to focus on our own strengths.

And we sit and we watch and we talk away our motivation
through fussy minds intoxicated
by last night's wine.

And our minds slip back
along bumpy tracks
spending more time trying to remember who we were.

Well here we are.

All of us god-like things carefully manipulated to procreate the creation we've manifested in our hands.

We've built bridges and roads, airplanes and trains, connecting us where we need to go.
We've crafted our findings to lend our fragile bodies easy access to peace and stability.

And we are all demon-like denying our minds the strength to carry on our animalistic purpose.
Forgetting the beauty our world holds before us.

And we sit here as these dualities pick arguments in our minds driving our confrontatious-nature to strike at our weakenesses consuming us with doubt about ourselves.

We'll I'm here to remind you. You are all beautiful inside and out.

Speak up louder than you think you can

I Am Not a Poet; I Am A Human

I am not a poet
though I do write poetry.
I am not an artist
though I do create art.
I am not a musician
though I've occasionally held a beat.
I am not an athlete,
no, I'm really not an athlete. 
I'm not gay,
though I have kissed a girl and I liked it.
I'm a not religious
though my spirituality entangles me. 

I do not hold these labels to my identity
aware that their permanence has no existance.
But underneath these rags of labels that society tries to dress me in...

I am human.

My skin evolutionized by my ancestors
My bones scrutinized by prejudice
My blood synthesized by love. 

I am human.
One of more than 7 billion and counting
willing to collaborate to create seemingly impossible things
if only to propagate a clearer message to eliminate hate from a world of beauty we have layed out before us.

We are all human.
And we were all born and we will all die
but in between
we are given a colorful scene.
Our purpose to live.
Our purpose to create. 

So let's mend our seams
and harmonize with broken keys.
Guide our lost ones
and step down to our knees
and pray for a day
when we can put aside our shame
and live freely amongst the trees
and bathe in sun rays
THESE THINGS ARE FREE!

Let's pray for a day 
when control and power is not the name of the game 
in a greed ridden society that is too afraid
to alleviate the pain the world holds
from our ignorant mistakes. 

Let's clean the rivers
and moisten the soils
and remind the world of our love. 

We are all humans.
Designed to refine our compassion for our home.
We need to remember we share this one.

One human cannot carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.
And when the best of the world crumbles
the rumbles with stir the wind 
and wash away all of its madness with good rain
and we will start again.

And I know it's easy to want to give up.
The burden feels heavy and the road too rough
All of us,
entangled visions of our past, present, and future tenses
all begging to be let loose from this cyclical nightmare.
Attempting to find solace in faith of unknown things.
Our humanitarian race finds no space 
in the things we've erased

My heart beats and my mind thinks
as our love shrinks on the brink of extinction.
Our needs bleed with the seeds to save us all.

So, I won't give up hope now.
I won't.

Because belief seeps through the pores 
of every man's dreams
and I'll harness this faith and divide it amongst thee
and walk blindly through these patient trees 
waiting to exhale the oxygen
that will sustain our need of an undivided creed.

Peace be with you
please be with me. 

Because it's time now to release our past 
at the heels of our feet
and move swiftly now.

I've found it now.
Ready to hold on to it now.
Let me show you how.

Because I won't let go of it now.
until we are healed or at least beckoned
to move against the groove of this shortcoming
that i intend to prove is worth something.

A past, present, and future tense all developed in a mind
unwilling to shape out the empty space it defines.

Let me be a reminder.
Let my heart beat be a rewinder.
Let me tell you what the world is inside her.

Fill my empty vessel with loves lost and hopes afloat.

I'll light the river gold.
Please help me build the boat.

This is not a poem; This is a reason to believe

Circles of pedals on metal frames
to find ourselves here.

We were caught in the afterglow
of glooming thoughts
and then luckily caught off guard
by a glorious night sky.

Only one thing could make this scene perfect
and that shooting star caught the corner of my eye.

How can a world so misguided still hold
pinks and purples and reflect them from
that seemingly still river flow?

And how can people so drenched in their
riptides of selfish power not see that
the purest form for their addictive
nature can be found when the black
silhouettes of 8,000 or more trees meet
with an open dusk sky?

And how can loveless lovers not see that
the only place to make love is
beneath star dusted moon rays
that lead the way to a crisp summer sunrise?

We cannot forget that our world is a treasure box,
one with no map, but the trail and tread of our feet.

We opened our box at x marks the spot
but only took the money
and left the precious jewels to rot.

We were blindsided by fools and
expected to blindfold our minds through time.

And now
I sit gazing and wondering
stuck struck by the light that reflects the evenings
chilled breeze as it
sweeps across the rippled river run.

And it's this scene that gives me
reason to believe
that we will be reminded.

I have reason to believe that
when all the fool's gold in the world
washes out to the sea
we will all be free.

And when it's gone, we'll only have
the jewels we left behind

and this time...

we'll burn our blindfolds and crack open
our diamonds and pearls and watch
as the black silhouettes of 8,000 or more trees
collide with unfathomable purples and greens.

This is not a poem; This is a question

The difference between them and me, you ask?

I would sell my soul if any of you
could guarantee me
a life free of sorrow
for the pan-handler down the street.

but they, they won't sell a tiny portion
of their assets
even to the hardworking many
who slave for their company.

Sometimes I wish I was
Martin Luther King Jr.'s daughter.
In hopes I'd be born with the
drowning desire to carry out
my father's legacy.

Because he fought for the good hearted.

And I don't know what's so bad about
wanting to feel good

but I don't feel like a majority of us are
on the same page here.

Let's slow down
for one minute.
Close our eyes.
and take a deep breath.

Let's smile at everyone we pass on the street.
And stop being concerned about who's is what's
or mine or yours, or their's or ours
or how many calories are in our bagels.

Let's eat dinner together and hopefully plan for breakfast.

Let's wake up when our bodies tell us to
instead of pushing snooze on the alarm.

Let's sleep in a couple extra minutes
with our lovers and roll around in the sheet covers.

Let's answer our children's questions with the
understanding that every word uttered is an imprint
on a young mind who will one day see the world that
we have created for them.

Everything we do here, is handed to them in the end.

The question is what do we have to give?

This is not a poem; This is a public service announcement

I stepped out into the crowded streets the other day
and i listened to a crowd of compassionate
voices demand an opportunity to be heard. And,
after not only a year, but a history of defending
the basic rights of humanity, there were still people
in streets, fighting peacefully for their
country, and for the world...

"Who's streets? Our streets!"
"Ah-anti-anticapitalista!"

And while marching amongst this crowd, I saw
another, walking close to mine, but distinctly
separate. Smirking with hate and belittlement,
with intentions of beating down the sounds
of those voices. I could see how they were
not listening, afraid to make eye contact and
level with anyone fighting for love...

"Do not block the streets"
"Move. Make room for pedestrians"
"This is your final warning, if you do not
keep moving, you will be placed under arrest."

I imagined another crowd, standing at the
glass windows of their rooftop offices,
peering down over the crowded streets of
NYC and other cities alike, watching as
the working classes stand strong against
each other. Smirking as they see their
manipulative distraction keep those eyes
away from their rooftops.

But oh how ignorant you can be. Because
I also saw one police man amongst us, and
not against us. I saw one man. And when
one leads the rest will follow. And when
that day comes, we will walk peacefully
into your offices, unarmed ad unfooled,
and our eyes will meet yours and we will
sit. And we will wait with vigorous
patience, until you wake up and see the
world you are creating.

Because we see a future of light and we
will not stop marching the streets we layed
our for our feet until that day comes.
And the more time you spend ignoring
us, unwilling to compromise, the more
people will come.

Because now more than ever, is the
time to stand up for the good of
humanity. It's time to fight for what
the whole of humanity deserves. We have
spent too long sitting on the sidelines
watching your greed and your obsession with
power attempt to manipulate the minds
and the hearts of the people that have
built the very building you hide in when we
come around.

We have felt love. We have felt passion. And
we have found each other, and we will, at
every cost, peacefully stand at the foot
of your buildings every hour of every day
of every year, until you are willing to
walk out that door and listen.

We wills stand behind the ghosts of our
forefathers who founded this nation in hopes
that freedom would prevail.

And we will stand with peace and love
in our hearts and stare warmly into the
eyes of the broken spirits and lost souls,
and we will still offer a guiding hand
despite the hell you've raised us in.

It is our innate duty as human beings,
all born with compassion and understanding,
to wake up the world from its troubled
slumber and shake the demons from its
core.

Let us all hold hands and embrace the
common ground we all walk on.
Let us create a world for our children,
free of hate, free of prejudice, free of
sorrow.
Let us embrace individuality.
Let us love each other.

I do believe that a world of peace is
possible. We have all seen fear wrap itself
around the necks of the most passionate,
and we have all seen hate take the
lives of too many.

We all share one home together on
this earth, and we have all watched the
same sun rise and fall every damned
day of our lives.

And if we all stand together and
simply do what little we can do to
help our fellow brothers and sisters,
we can take the obsession of power
and greed and turn it into beauty.

We are all in this together.

Let us see what happens when we all believe.