Stricken With Purpose

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What of the bitter
Since I’ve known sweet
When I’ve caused distance
You’ve drawn me near
I cannot unknow
Understanding You’ve giv’n
If there be cracks in cement
We’ll place jewels there
For flowers
Not weeds shall grow here

Freedom Day

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I feel the Fall air fading
Because June wants to be balmy today 
And I wish it to be

I sense my warm heart willing
Because tomorrow I’ll be mid-life
And I plan to beat statistics and lies

I feel and I sense
Because I’ve a sixth sense
And I hope to be your poetry

Day Ok

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Different now
He’s older
So am I 
So is he
We are different now
We were once three
And we were We
Now it’s he and he
He and me
We
Great, still
Differently 

Grand Village

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I entered school less than best-dressed
But jazzed them nonethess 
With my knowing
At home, they did their best 
My God! They were kids
What had they that I might glean
‘though, they gave me a closet of dresses
Sometimes ragged denim 
And space decorated with what kids need
Animals, charicatures, loveliness, love
I put it all on 
That my height not betray
My child’s age
I came away from those tall years
Not half bad

I went back in a dream
Early one day
Spent from the years of adult nonsense 
Wearing again ragged denim
Too short for my legs
I chose to hide foraging
In some school closet 
For someone else’s clothes 
That I’d fit in
That I’d not look to old for him
Too young for them
That they’d understand my intellect
My heart
I’m happy to say, nearing the end, I am
Not half-bad 

Game of One 

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Shimmering 

I will describe you as that

I will not name you

I don’t believe even you know

Your nature

You could be the willow, leaves dancing with the wind

I’ll accept no refuge from you 

Are you the oily-coated wolf, moving stealth beneath the moon

I will not run from you 

If you be the gravitational pull, with billions held captive

Watch me defy you

And shimmer too

Concrete 

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We can’t call them untrue

The shadows forever forced against concrete 

Are forever a part of you

But so too, was that moment before the bleaching

When you believed in the good air against your skin

Go back again, despite that it seems you can’t 

Receive what the lurking has to offer 

You In Mind

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Once over her threshold
There was none of the fanciful 
Nothing intricate evident 
You thought

You’d expected to find woven, sugary things
Designed with you in mind
To draw your eye and the rest of you
Toward her

You’d hoped to see open, airy spaces
Undefined and to your liking
That you’d envision yourself there
For good

How shocking the sole, dusty cobweb 
Strewn and hiding across the ceiling
The boxes of dreams on bookshelves and….
The bed

Such horror the shut-tight windows 
Shushing provocative talk 
The exotic stashed away in drawers
The hollow 

Had you not left, but lingered 
With utmost courage, stayed to dig, to see
What permanence revealed, what life!
What joy

living also

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Diseased or dormant
Standing sedentary
Feeling as an aside
You close your eyes
And think
For what purpose
Close them a beat longer 
And know
For shade from oppression
A homebase for weary wings
The very air
And nourishment to live another day
Yes, we’re all dying 
But like you, living also