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Monday, September 29, 2014

The Grass Over There


So change your hair
And change your face
Compared with them
You’re second place

The clothes they wear
Places they see
You’ve got to wish
That life for me

You stand in line
For something more
But they just charge
In front and soar

You wait your turn
Stand in the crowd
But you get lost
If you’re not loud

You just compete
With what you choose to see
You put yourself down
Saying ‘that’s not me’

Look around once more
We’re all in second place
Our spirit is always
On the chase

We all stand here
Eyes on the ground
All us here are broken.
Just look around




Saturday, September 27, 2014



Mama’s Roots

The northern wind blew incessantly, molding the contour of 
the tattered flag to that of the long abandoned machine shop. 
The now cracked and crumbled concrete had not witnessed
 a single pair of work boots in the better part of a decade. 

With the exception of the majestic Oak Tree 
that stood with unabashed glory in the Corner of First and Main, 
the rest of the town had not fared much better. 

There was no care for the old man,
 no job for the young man, and no food for the boy. 
Despair and resentment long since invaded 
the once hopeful hearts of the congregants 
as they watched their beloved community 
fall from glory before their very eyes.

   

The Oak Tree, however, stood as the pinnacle of life in the otherwise lifeless town. 
The time-tested roots proved immensely durable. 
The leaves provided much needed shade
 when the blinding two-o’-clock sun
 pierced the eyes. And nestled safely in the very heart of the tree lived
 Mama Bird and her adored baby bird.

Each morning, Mama Bird would wake and yearn to make the nest
in which Little Bird would grow 
just a bit stronger, a little bit sturdier, a little bit better for the love of her life. 
Just as each morning the sun rises to warm the earth, 
each morning Mama Bird fell more and more in love with Little Bird.
 And so every morning Mama Bird spread her wings and soared down river 
in order to collect sticks, straw, and leaves for the Oak Tree’s nest.

With each sunrise Mama Bird sang a sweet song as she departed for the riverbank 
so that Little Bird would hear and know that she was never far. 
The tune echoed far beyond sounds normal capacity.  
Mama Bird loves her little girl.

The townspeople coveted the very glimpse of Mama Bird soaring from the Oak 
so much so that they added words to serenade the sweet medley 
that the bird chirped each morning

The people would sing

These roots are for my little girl,
I will place them so she may grow
In love, in faith, in hopeful bliss
Wherever her wind may blow

The ransacked town was clinging for existence. 
Stores were looted daily, fear of the unknown
 threatened to suffocate all who were old enough
 to know the inevitable fate of their downward spiral. 
Mama Bird’s weighted heart beat with purpose, 
and her wings remained tense as they flapped through the air.
 Even the beautiful connoisseur of the sky was not without apprehension. 
For Little Bird’s wellbeing was always on her mind.

Yet the people concealed their day-to-day fears, 
and instead, let the Mama Bird’s song bandage their wounded spirits. 
And Mama Bird soared on in pursuit of a strongly rooted nest for Little Bird. 
This went on day after day, month after month, year after year. 
Accordingly, Mama Bird found herself on the riverbed searching for roots 
on the day of the great storm.

The frustration and angst that was long stored away 
in the hearts of the townspeople 
came to fruition in the form of lightening, thunder, and ceaseless rain.
 The bold wind competed with the info structure of the town for domination. 
Shingles were ripped from homes. 
Porcelain statues and glass windows shattered with pain.
 Only Little Bird’s nest stood unharmed. 
For the foundation of love, the spirit of truth, 
and the sprinkle of grace that Mama Bird compiled
 over the years proved stronger than any 
Earthly challenge.

Then the winds finally subsided and the cry of the people 
began to echo throughout the town, 
Little Bird knew what she had to do. 
Although she had never before left her nest, 
her heart new the way – Little Bird spread her wings 
and soared through the endless sky. 
As her young wings tickled the air, she burst into a song 
that would nurse the wounded heart of her people.

Soon after, Mama Bird replied with a melodious
 echo from the edge of the riverbank.
 Little Bird swooped down until the two were so close 
that Little Bird had the sense that Mama Bird’s heartbeat
 was controlling her own pattern of motion. 
Together, the two overtook the night sky, singing a synchronized tune
 with a harmony and a pitch that was more gloriously
 hopeful than any melody ever heard by man.

Throughout the town, small eyes were filled with laughter. 
Mature smiles radiantly beamed through lines of hurt. 
Backs were straightened, heads held high – 
The duo lifted the spirits of the town tenfold that day

and the people sung with joy

These roots are for my little girl,
I will place them so she may grow
In love, in faith, in hopeful bliss
Wherever her wind may blow

Each morning as the sun emerges from the East, 
Mama Bird and Little Bird can be found soaring throughout the limitless sky. 
With resilient roots and tenacious wings, their hearts beat as one.


And to this day, that town stands as the happiest little place on this side of Heaven


Saturday, September 20, 2014

Standing Tall

Own your life in such a way that you may feel on top of the world, even when you're only three feet off the ground

Monday, September 15, 2014

The Mask


***

Here lies the tale of four broken souls
Forced to conceal their spirit by day
Lonely sunsets proved firm absolution
That life just could not go their way

Here lies the tale of four beautiful minds
That world never had the pleasure to see
Those joyous heartaches were belittled daily
To no more than foolish fantasy

And so these four chose to dawn the mask
To themselves and to others they lied
All chose to conceal, force a smile, each day
As chars of hope burned to dust from inside

***

She chances a glance in the mirror
And expresses disgust at what she first sees
She’ll never be the next CoverGirl
She says this face is “just not made for TV”

So she wrestles out her blush and brushes
Determined to paint a brand new face
For the status quo says you’re not good enough
If each feature is not up to pace

Despite the mask that she dawns each night
The pain cannot be blinked away
Violet-rimmed eyes shimmer with brash truth
Her heart fears that all hope’s gone a stray

***

He dawns the mask come Friday night
As he takes on center stage
The crowds will roar, the trumpets blast
As he recites sonnets that speak without age

The actor will take a strong bow
Before the curtains sashay to end the show
He wants to believe they love him
But his heart proves too nervous to know

Despite the mask that he dawns each night
The pain cannot be blinked away
Hazel eyes shimmer with brash truth
His heart fears that all hope’s gone a stray

***

She skips across the playroom
Fairy dust covers the lids of her eyes
For she yearns to be adopted
By the perspective passerby’s

She knows the small kids get picked first
So she musters up a smile
For if she puts on an angelic face
A new mom may take her in for a while

Despite the mask that he dawns each night
The pain cannot be blinked away
Baby blue eyes shimmer with brash truth
Her heart fears that all hope’s gone a stray

***

He cautiously dawns the mask and gown
As he fiddles with that old wedding band 
His feet scoot cross the hospital floor
Until he can grasp his dear Ruth’s hand

Underneath the large blue garments
His top lip quivers with unparalleled fear
But he composes himself and his Superman voice
Saying, “Ruth do not worry, I’m here”

Despite the mask that he dawns each night
The pain cannot be blinked away
Big brown eyes shimmer with brash truth
His heart fears that all hope’s gone a stray

***

These four and many, many others
Roam through life any given day
Yearning for the roar of a perfect storm
But settling to bury our woes deep away

Look your fellow man in the eye
Do not shy from the broken one’s gaze
For we all yearn to be ceaselessly loved
In a blind, outright mad sort of way 

So care for one another
Unveil truth by unmasking lies
Every soul may bare a beast of burden
But every heart has the power to rise

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Truth Speaks




When lies blind the eyes,

When regret hunches the back
When self-pity prevails as 
anger's disguise
When retaliation clenches the fist 
and whacks
When loathing boils the flesh,

Truth speaks.

Truth speaks loud.
Truth speaks clear.
Truth defies the crowd.
Truth trumps meager fear.

There is much greater than vengeance

There is much more than the lie
There is much than guilt and envy

There is a Truth love can't deny