Like a feather falling in a storm, love has its own currents
These currents have no mind, no choices, no set path
We know not when we will be swept into the tempest
Taken on an unexpected journey to a destination brighter than the last
But when that feather settles itself, when it finally connects with the world
We call that home
Disclaimer: This poem was written on the day of, and for, the wedding of my friends Cris and Mike.
That which is divine
Humility is a shelter against the storm of egos
A bulwark from which superiority has no strength
Those who gain it, never know it
Those who seek it, find themselves at self-odds
It’s recognized by all, but found in few
The freest of us hold it in plenitude
It requires nothing but pure thoughts,
and escapes the forgotten
Time to clean up now,
go grab the broom
A tidy house this allows,
you’ll understand real soon
Nice and even strokes,
no reason to hurry
The idea this evokes,
of feeling clean and not dirty
Slide the dustpan along,
grabbing the weekslong remains
No reason to live wrong,
breathing our own pains
Now the easy part, throwing it all away
Slide our parts to the trash, preparing for new days
Stoic is as stoic does not
The straight line with no dividing pathways,
eating your feelings and experiences
A glutton of unprecise needs and unending appetite
But there is another way
There’s a way to find a middle
It doesn’t break the self,
it only breaks the routine
Call upon your average angels
Live within the grey screens
Logic can exist without emotion,
emotion can exist without logic
But life is most harsh without thought,
and who wants to live in a world of broken smiles
The oldest saying is plan for the worst, hope for the best
Yet a stoic doesn’t hope, merely plans
Fill your head with your heart, find a stranger path
Bravery isn’t earned, nor taught
It cannot be forced upon, the strongest of the lot
It comes in waves of crises, demanding of its fellows
The bravest of us sometimes fall, filling up the deepest gallows
For “courage isn’t the absence of fear”, a wise man is quoted as saying
It calls upon the best of us, those who can’t stand waiting
It strikes some when least expected, but always when needed most
It fills us up with brighter reflections, one’s who no longer boast
So if you feel when braveries near, you need have no reason to fear
It’s only your soul approaching it’s best, while, also forgetting the toll.
Teach a boy to shave,
teach a son
Begin by washing away,
the day’s last run
Go along with the cream,
you’ll want to shine
Spread and miss no seams,
everything will be fine
Take the sharp blade to your cheek,
miss not a single hair
Shave until your face feels sleek,
cuts are easy to repair
Stand in the mirror, look for any misses
Everything becomes much clearer, we’ll see how it glistens.
If and when we start again
I hope I’ll be kinder
I hope I’ll be a better friend
Though I may need reminders
I wonder what will happen
When we recall the past
Will it darken and blacken
Or will it really last
Simple truths abound beyond,
Demanding their sad say
Do they know of whom I’m fond
or what I wish of this day
I tell myself, just stay strong but,
I only hope that you’ll stay
Beyond the walk there lies a door
Past the door are many more
It stretches beyond what we can see
Until we find eternity
The door has paint for many eyes
The colors blend and sometimes blind
They make up shapes and symbols for all
Creating fate and making thralls
There are those who focus on the door,
and others on where lies the floor
It matters not how you turn the handle,
nor whether you were quite the vandal
But what you do when that circles turned,
who you were and what you learned.
Envy, the creature often confused for possessive jealousy
It slithers into the heart when least expected,
Driving others to madness, wishing they could have or be another
It’s the killer of the already loved, the slayer of contentment
It’s the champion of what’s yours is mine
Its enemy is tranquility, its oldest friend is hatred
There is no cure for Envy without growth, no settlement without upheaval
There is envy within all who decide they are not what they want to be, but none can be found within the poor who gives
If and when I danced, I danced to their tune
Their pied piper play, took my worries away
I found a new appeal, a new way to see, a new way to breathe
I moved to their wavelengths, saw my own escapes
It all changed when another came along
He flitted and flew, sang his own song
I tried to change, make them see my range
But among all other things, they found me strange
I escaped the music, at last, finding a tune not quite so crass
Moving along my musical road, I listened to my song and never slowed
It slipped a leap deep within, let others see me spin and grin
It found me, this strange escape, found a much more fluid shape
I hear my own chords now and then, hear it in others who almost find their zen
But I don’t try to change for them, I’ll never allow my song to change again
