Tangled appendages and twirling aluminum spokes
Are instantly charged by his monitoring father
Retrieving a bawling boy from the wreckage
Firm forearms hold the trembling mass to his chest
Offering unreserved comfort to his fallen child
And beyond the window he mouths the words
It’s okay, it’s okay, you’ll be all right
The sobbing subsides and the father gently brushes
Asphalt scorched elbows and pebbled palms
Before kissing moist, ruddy, and chubby cheeks
And the boy nods his bulbously helmeted head

Together they salvage his bicycle upright
His father grasps tightly to the colored bars
As the boy confidently, with his father’s help
Remounts his position onto the plastic seat
Stepping back the father examines his courageous son
Who taking a deep breath recovers his pert smirk
His deliberate eyes narrowing as he looks onward
In the faith that his father will follow him every step
And with every tick and churn of the tire spindle
Direct his journey along the uneven sidewalks
That should he falter, his father without question
Will unconditionally come to his child’s rescue
All we have to do, is trust

you have shown me how
i can be fooled
i have witnessed the steadfast
nature of your creations and
i have listened to old men
talk,
old men who really had it;
i listened and understood

i have seen men beating
their heads against walls
until they bled out into the
streets,
i have seen how little
communication exists between
people,
i have heard how much
you have to say–
i have listened when i could,
i am afraid i have not understood
much;
i am also afraid that there is not
much to understand

i cannot tell you how life is
across the universe
but i can hazard a guess that
will come very close

i can still not understand people,
i cannot believe;
which is why i cannot understand
you,
or much of what you say,
however loud you say it

i can never let the ink dry
before i throw away today’s
draft,
because i wake up with the sun
and see it erase the meaning
of all that i had imagined that
very day with it’s waning
over the horizon like white-out
over a dissertation written by
humanity,
who, collectively, is unsure
when exactly the paper is due.

even a flower needs
sundry more than the sun’s rays

like chlorophyll and shit

let’s remember that
“change” is not a magic
word made of sparkles
and dust, rather one
spelled with sleepless
nights, burning words,
and blood

let’s remember that
the “Dream” is not
a finish line to be
crossed, rather a reality
we must construct
first in our minds and in
our lives

and let’s remember that
our leaders cannot be God
sweeping down from the clouds
(or the White House) to pluck
you from your own troubles.

Don’t look my way

It’s too early in the day,

Your soul is not tucked in yet.

Romeo coughs at the back of the bus

Here comes tuberculosis.

An old Juliet shouts repeatedly to herself

“Shut up! Yes God I know. I know. Shut up!”

Dorian, the unaltered beauty, sneers

Give the lepers their bells back

So they can sing their melody again:

“Unclean, unclean, unclean…”

Jane scratches her invisibility cloak

blood under her fingernail is the same

ghastly red as the “Stop requested” sign.

The metallic box spits two people out

While Tarzan bites his nails thinking

“I hate my mother. Does it me make evil?”

Inside the bus, one happy thought lingers,

“At least I’m not suicidal…”

And outside, it’s better to hate God than your mother

Otherwise, you better have tales that would make God vomit

and reconsider his creation.

I’ll always remember you-inside.

Of Mind, Body, and Soul-like the rest,

Mind and Soul I’ll remember-of you the best.

I’ll always know you were the love of my life

Through the sickness, the pain, and all the strife.

Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I hope to ever do,

I could only wish that it wasn’t to you.

For you raised me lovestrong.

Now I wish I could say-God’s will is wrong,

But faith in HIS plan is right,

Whether you do or don’t-survive the night

Mother, I love you-Goodbye