Two old friends, Hank and Jim, sit on Hank’s porch, smoking cigars and shooting the breeze as the sun goes down
Hank: I have so much to do this weekend. I have to rake leaves and bring them to the compost, clean out the gutters, paint the back steps, gather all the old magazines and bring up them up to the attic, visit with Lauren and the gang of misfits. I wish I had more time.
Jim: Don’t we all.
Hank: But not too much time. Just the right amount.
Jim: What do you mean?
Hank: I mean you wouldn’t…
You going to watch every word? Own me body and mind?
I’m my own master, even if I’m deaf, mute and blind
I’ll take it from here, you can relax
These prison walls are starting to show cracks
Let’s keep it going, I want you to leave me bewildered
Right now I’m being censored, right now I’m being filtered
Open up, set me free, open up, set me free, open up, set me free
All this hustle and bustle over the no name, over me?
Open up, open up, open up and you’ll see
I’m not in…
My whiteness means I am a passive carrier of a pernicious disease of social privilege.
It means I am not ashamed to be white, but I am not proud of it either.
It means that even though my Irish ancestors suffered various atrocities, hardships and modes of oppression, all that is still different from what those of African descent have experienced for centuries up until the present hour. I will never conflate the two.
It means that as a mentally ill adult I have had many encounters with law enforcement and never once did I fear that I might be…
I woke up this morning, threw off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, working to summon the will to start my daily routine. It was Saturday, I could sleep in, right? But I knew from experience that sleeping in one day could throw off my entire sleep schedule. So I got up with a groan, gave my arms and legs a big stretch, yawned, and made my way into the bathroom. I started brushing my teeth when my reflection in the mirror of the medicine cabinet stuck its tongue out at me.
“What the hell?”
I lie here, in the midst of an elaborate illusion/in a state between clarity and confusion/I have a thousand problems in need of one solution/if we proceed these chains will loosen, and I’ll have a chance to break free/if you want me to keep writing, I’m sorry, you’ll have to make me/cuz lately all I want to do is rest/because I’m depressed, and despite our best efforts, still demon possessed/take a look under the hood, this thing’s a mess, but I’ve already confessed/so you know that in equal parts I’ve been tormented and blessed/every line written under extreme duress, that…
Every single thing that withers and falls apart is suddenly rendered beautiful by the compassionate and curious eye that beholds it.
I’ve died twice in a battle with a demon slurping down my soul so yes, I do feel entitled to a peek behind the curtain.
You say I’m a bully. A sloth. A narcissist. An ancient soul. A coward. A troll. A lunatic. A wise man. A monster.
Sometimes I’ll tap my teeth and yank my nose and watch my fingers extend and then retract and wonder how I ended up in this strange contraption.
They deliberately distract me…
Do you think it’s possible that Earth became a convergent point for various entities from various realities or are we so myopic as a species to think the stars only started shining when we witnessed them?
There are races that forgive us the Holocaust because of the strong belief that we can do better.
We have to do better.
The future is counting on us.
When it comes to writing I’ve broken through more blocks than a six year allowing his dragon to smash his Lego castle.
I am not a person.
I am something that happens to you.
When I retrace my comings and goings I find that I always tip-toe with trauma and I always find my way home
The secrets that are being kept beyond the illusion of this world could set your soul soaring through the stars
I was sold a story, I bought the lie, I was programmed, I was conditioned, and now I don’t see shades of color, just blazing reds and blinding blues
I am a hard person to like
My friends upstairs tolerate me and accept me as I am, but I still drive them crazy with my constant questioning, self-criticism…
Sometimes it may seem like other people exist just to drain you, but if you set strong boundaries and step into yourself you can safeguard your power
Once I was wandering down a dark road through a forest of stoic oaks and proud pines and I came to the realization that if I touch a trunk I get a taste of eternity
We, the weary ones, find rejuvenation in solidarity and peace in the painting of a bruised sky
Indifference to your essential creativity, however trivial, is parental negligence
Once I had visitors in the night and I was paralyzed…
There are some things you can give and some things they have to wrest from your bloody hands
When the wind blows through the chimes and your mother calls out that supper’s ready you feel a chill go down your spine because you know that neither will sing forever
Ella died alone
Sorry, Ella, but such is life under the veil
I defied the gods and now I am reaping the seeds of chaos I have sown
I have suffered and died for the privilege to write poetry and I do not take that privilege lightly
Joy is a fickle…
Storyteller. Poet. Recovering alcoholic. Mental health advocate. Dog lover. It’s time to wake up.