Waves move into sands,
which the shoreline inherits
but only after a long journey
This is not just a wave –
This is a wave that’s been years in the making.
Prose From the Soul: Peace to the Worn Soldier
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It is a decade past your years of vengeance and yet still,
you hold onto the lies and catastrophes
like a lifeline to your soul,
as if for some reason, if you let go –
you would cease to exist
or slip away into something else.
Prose From the Soul: Pointing Fingers
All too often,
We romanticize these crazy acts,
which stand before us like crazy shields
and desperate measures –
just to feel good.
And all too often,
we celebrate the villain
or glorify the bad guy
or the “tough guy”
Prose From the Soul: Openhearted
This is a short poem that was written to set a few things free. This was written on a white screen that was blank in the beginning with a white glow shining on my face and reflection in my eyes.
This was begun before the sun or before the hours when my alarm clock songs; but more importantly, this was written with the intention to purge the soul.
Prose From the Soul: In Three Parts, Yours Truly
1)
One pole south –
This is the low point and where the hole seems bottomless
or endless
and therefore the fear of falling is real
and relevant – or therefore,
the understanding of gravity pulls too much weight,
which makes it hard to stand some times
Prose From the Soul: A Dad’s Eye
There was an old man who lived on a quiet block in a little town.
His house was one of the first to be built. Times were different then.
One morning, he came out and the moving truck pulled into his driveway.
His daughter and son in-law phoned saying they would be there soon and not to worry.
Prose From the Soul: A Brief Adventure
There it is, a great big world which is right outside of our door. This is alive and well, even if we don’t choose to see it.
I think, of course, and wonder of places such as certain cities, like say, places that I’ve only seen in pictures, like San Francisco or maybe Wyoming or even Alaska.
Or then again, my pilgrimage to anywhere could begin from anywhere; in which case, I have this urge to board a train and ride the railroads that span across our country. This way, I can see it all.
Alive in my 20’s
The morning was like a brief interlude after a night out with friends. As usual, I was up early because I’ve always had trouble sleeping on floors. Let alone, I never slept much anyway, least of all, as late as the rest of my friends who were sleeping it off the night before. No one else was awake in the small apartment, except for Pete. We were both sleeping on the floor because Steve already took the couch and the beds were all taken. Besides, this was not our apartment.
Continue readingTo Admit, To Accept and To Move On
Someone talked about stigma the other day.
I shake my head when this comes up –
I remember someone telling me about my tattoos and how this brands me. I was told what this does to my appearance to which I said, at least you can see who I am.
You can’t always say this about the plain skinned or the people who hide in plain sight.
Those Who Do and Those Who Don’t
I hear people talking about the City and how she’s changed. I keep thinking to myself that maybe it’s us who have changed. Maybe it’s us who have forgotten to take care of the streets or how to clean up after ourselves. So, in fairness, maybe it’s not the City at all.
Maybe it’s us.
I keep hearing about the problems with our sanitation and the problems with the homeless and how the City has lost its way because of crime. But again, I don’t see this as a problem of the City. I see this as a problem of the people. I see this as a reminder that we have forgotten what it means to show the pride of ownership. I see this as symptomatic errors that result from real problems.
The Written Addiction 