The World In Awe Minor

After dusk,
In the middle of the night,
men catch lovely Persian butterflies in ancient Persia;
They perch quietly in the palms of unfamiliar hands;
Their majestic colour is hypnotizing,
Though I wish I could smash the jars that keep them.


The soul of Moses still walks just behind God,
Though he murdered a living-man.


A lovely Grandmother’s lilies seeded few fools;
The roses in her garden were her pride;
Though with all her heart, she pruned painful thorns to no avail;
Those that wilted still got care.


As you slumber, can you feel the wrinkles of that soft warm hand?
The eyes of angels peer upon the world;
And on their wings rests a long-awaited kiss.
We’ll meet again.


Visionaries that lift veils are the wisest of sages.
Life without judgment is a fleeting wish;
Reputations ripple through time.


Bedrock principles built on a shaky tectonic morality,
Cast gray shadows on immoral actions.


There’s a mote in my eye,
And wool over yours,
But that don’t mean there’s no truth.


In blue, a period of sorrow mourns for red;
A river blesses terrestrial lands with green hopes;
Just as new wedding dresses are sewed in light cream fabric;
Do you ever miss a white Christmas?


Grief is not inconsolable;
Familiarity is a comforting friend with suspicious motives,
Weathered rocks may still have jagged edges that slice the soul.
Solace in repetition can be dangerous;
We live our lives on themes.


Justice antagonizes the messy business of its pursuit;
The East reflected light to dark ages,
Gusts from the Westerlies now blow progress in all spheres.
Peasants watch anxiously to see where the floating leaf will fall.


At birth, a baby is everyone’s child;
Wide eyes have faith in hopeful optimisms
The aged marvel at innocence in a teary longing for their own;
In children we’re all still in awe.

American Gumbo

Why do peace officers place aged men under brutal cardiac arrest?
My favorite roux is made without blood
Legal minds flippantly tell a spiced truth to the lenses of lying eyes
Nero’s fiddle can be heard playing a sad song in the American South


Uncultivated cerebellums litter the streets of old Antebellum,
Quagmires of the contemporary politic deposit useless rhetoric in an intellectual delta
Rains of colour whitewash social etiquette;
Acts of God lift sheer veils,
through winds of merciless change


Excuses are espoused by shameful eyes
Tears are found in mine
We all know how the institution of destitution was built, and why


Antiquity is older than my grandparents;
And Momma and Daddy ain’t that old


Compassionate hypocrisy tickles a cynical mind
The indigent are convenient play-things for political over-lords;
Still, only fools turn down opportunities to improve


Synonymous motivations may produce opposing results,
Devious friends are sometimes lured to warm our beds
A high-horse is no one’s bedfellow, no matter how strange it gallops
Be cautious… most have no idea where their heroes sleep at night;
You and your idol are fools


Cronies competent only in their incompetence, spin fairy-tales for all to see
Insatiable ignorance is the lust of weak minds
Waves ripple right through the air and spew confused half-truths;
Brilliantly, they intentionally paint themselves weak;
Little do they know,
it’s long-since too late once the velvet glove falls to the floor
To the fools of popular frenzy: your group is always one from next in line


Dry wells quench no thrust,
whether or not our water bills are manipulated
Starving minds soon expire
Divided houses show decrepit dysfunction;
The roof-top may soon cave


The ensuing catastrophe will emit an undeniable effervescence
Come closer to the table of brotherhood, pull up a seat…
The stew is close to done

On The Feminine Periphery

Effusive femininity emboldened to emasculate
Masculine proprietary arrogance
An obvious chasm engulfs them both,
conflict is their prize


Simple… little… words… that… hurt
Considerate breaths inhale life


Formulaic illusions are so boring… why chase?
A fool’s paradise looks immaculate with closed eyes
Nature reciprocates defiance on a chilling dish
Immerse yourself too far in an unfamiliar world,
you’ll return bitter and corrupted


Vociferous calm stirs a calamity in the eyes of blind owls
Newly matured lion’s manes makes the pride eternally envious
Burning female dogs and women of spite, growl inaudible sounds
Yet, cold puppies love their momma so


Opposites are never resolved, they compliment their differences
Social envy with biological roots
Ecclesiastic answers instill an important guide
Rhetorical constructs confuse impressionable minds


Cantankerous emotional outbursts are obtuse
Benevolence and humility assure an honest victory
Narcissistic deference erodes compassion;
it takes time to see


Mistaken assumptions from infallible human minds
Turn your back, and reality is still there
The choice is clear
Rights are chosen
What’s there is not always correct

Yellow-Tailed Romantic

A hare-less rabbit with no luck
Opulent senses devoid of smell
Impudent passions selfish in nature
A yellow tail blows to the east


The wonderful behind of your neighbor’s wife
Greener grass than yours
The gold you can’t find in the bowels of a silver mine
More candy than one can eat


Rhythmic passions
Poetic prose
Overly demanding sensual charades


A look of lightning
Tears from stars
Heavenly bodies pressed against beads of sweat


Hidden lovers
Open endings
Foolishness played upon yourself


Blush and bow
Squint and moan
Don’t move… but carry on


Inquisitive jealousy provoked by truth
Blind eyes still see clear
Can you see the length of a lifetime?
It’s short, but sounds too far


To tussle while light dances overhead
A heated waltz till moon beams turn to rays of sun


Radiance is often emitted from a smile
Fluid motions cleanse the soul
Give freely…
Ego can be lonely and cold


Spinal contortions that belong at home
New ones not yet seen
Ask me what I feel right now…
Contentment, begging to be free

A Cerebral Melody

A blushing frown
Thy kingdom; thy crown
A whimsical gesture to boot


To dance; to prance
A smile
Beguiled!
The fragile aura of mood


Why sing?
Why talk?
Only chatter do they squawk
But sweet sounds echo so poignantly


What’s here that’s heard?
No need for words
Just a pause…
What a melody!

Shards Of A Looking-Glass

On my floor, lay the shards of a looking-glass
Its shattered pieces still reflect confusion laden eyes
In those shards, I steal a peak, an image I wish to see


Starring back from broken glass I see a crippled mind
Don’t look too close, what you might see, is broken, dumb and blind


The serrated images stir this world of wonder and hope and pride
Its grasp mesmerizes… should that be a surprise?


These jagged diamonds dazzle me
I’m captured in a daze


I squint and smile at my new collage
But I dare not touch those broken shards, or let them leave my sight

An Enigma And A Whisper

There’s a whisper found on both our lips
It’s faint… a shadow of unspoken words
As twilight hours fade from time
Lips speak utterances of quivering silence


Though the ears so lust for truth
Hearts betray the mind
Or does the mind betray the heart?
Its relevance is forgotten or lost


Wilting passions hide these fears
An inaudible whisper conceals and runs from tears
Excuses and cowardice are best of friends
Broken promises reverberate with no end
Unspoken actions deafen ears
Ambiguity is the guide of fear


Insolent pride that looks so mellow
Open secrets scream so loud
No more bravado, or cruel/malicious pleasure
An endless oasis is found beyond truth


I’ve never known a paradise
Take head… it has its price


Hearts and doves need no cages to call home
Tender beckoning makes them loyal
But be warned to nuture carefully... both need care


An enigma quietly sits, for now
Silence that remains unbroken


Someday our lips will begin to move
And on that day…
lies are broken by painful truths

Blood of the Heart

Though in my heart I bleed this pain I’ve tried to never know,
In my ears, I try to hear, a cry that won’t let me go


I see a ray that shines a light, and God I beg for more,
But in my daze, my hopeful praise, is no different than before,
Quietly, I sit and bleed, too weak to moan for help
But in my mind, I rage these thoughts, I cannot seem to quell


Privately, I slowly wilt,
My tears are cried in vain,
It’s pride that is my deadly sin;
It is my private shame


Tell me I’ve been foolish,
or sulked my tears in vain,
But when I close my eyes I see a never ending game


Though in my heart, besieged by grief, I wilt these soulful tears
With fear I clinch, from shame that went, a heart that bares the cinch


So now I’ve taken wonder;
Now I’ve prayed for help;
And in my heart that pain still bleeds...
and on it I still dwell

PATTERNS AND CYCLES

Believe it or not, most people live their life on themes. We figure things out the best way we know how. We all have our problem-solving techniques. But what happens when your problem-solving technique is broken, or doesn’t work? It’s not a coincidence that people date the same kind people over and over (most will deny it, but it’s true. You just might not realize the common link), or keep going back to things that aren’t good for them.


The most serious problem-solving patterns are those that we CONSCIOUSLY know cause us pain, but yet still CHOOSE to continue to do. They’re usually followed by excuses such as: “I’m just stupid.” The perfect excuse as to why we continue to act like a fool.


Yesterday I had a conversation with a friend who was upset with me. She was upset because she pointed out a behavioral pattern of mine that produces emotional trouble. She was upset not because I have recently taken such an action, but because she was reminded about the type of action I used to take.


I listened and I honestly do appreciate her observation. I appreciate it because everyone doesn’t have that kind of license to speak as freely to me. I’m thankful I have her around. It’s not often that people are close enough to speak so openly and honestly with each other. Usually people are on some “Brutal-Honesty” crap; a chance to say hurtful things that are factually based because you’re upset.


I’ve been blessed to have two, and now three, close friends in my life. These are the only people close to my age that can really pull my card… and I love them for it. So here’s to my truest friends:


1) To my best friend: Up and down, you’ve been there since the sandbox. I can’t wait to see you at the top. God willing, life will be sweet to us all. It already has already been extremely kind to us.


1a) To the woman in his life: I wish you a lifetime of happiness. You’ve definitely struck gold. I’ll try and make sure we have dinner next week. You’re a good woman Love.


2) To my best friend: No one knows how stupid we really were. I can’t believe we’re actually becoming adults. You’ve grown up, my friend, and who would have guessed… I did too.


2a) To the woman in your life: I hope she’s not a fool. And I hope you’re not a fool either. Don’t let her just walk into the sunset, my friend.


3) To my special girl: Special bonds have to be cultivated. They don’t just happen. I’m not going to let you walk into the sunset. We can CHOOSE to do things how we WANT. Whatever the cards, we always have a choice. And my choice is this: to not let go of someone so special and so rare. People like you aren’t just walking the streets everyday.