Archive for May 2022
Compassion
We can’t mourn
before we’re asked
to mourn again.
We can’t grieve before
we have to believe
it’s happened
again.
We can’t catch our breaths
before the deaths
accumulate.
It’s far too late.
Far too late.
And all the while
some carry on and smile
in some acceptance
of the norm.
We can’t live our
lives worrying,
I’m told.
But when we will grasp
that our inability
for empathy
holds us back
from being
the very kind of people
our children lack.
Compassion is the compass
that will guide us
to a place not far
if we’re brave enough to
hold compassion
behind our teeth
and in our hearts.
Poverty’s A Choice
Poverty’s a choice
our world makes it
possible and cyclical,
I can’t take it
every time I see a
crime committed
I think, why are we surprised?
It’s us who did it.
Systematically
we choose our future
and then we patch it up
only with sutures
and wonder why
the wounds still open up
instead of wondering
how we can stop
the bleeding,
the hunger,
the abuse.
Too many people
with the mindset
“there’s no use.”
Just maybe if we
focused on prevention,
if the people who need help
got our attention,
collectively we’d build
the place we need,
but selectively
we can’t seem to agree
on what that looks like,
on what we look like,
too much money spent
to make us disagree.
Those who spend it
would rather us not see
all the things they try to hide,
all of the greed.
These are fights
they design
with the intention
to blind.
And we fall victim
to the crime
every time.
Poverty’s a choice,
why do we make it
possible and cyclical,
I can’t take it
every time I see a
crime committed
I think, why are we surprised?
It’s us who did it.
21 Beds
Too many beds suddenly empty tonight.
Those kids too young to comprehend
the evil of one man,
and our willingness to arm him.
The harm lives on
with moms and dads
whose hearts cannot handle
the holes they are now scarred with.
Uvalde
Look them in the eye
and ask them why.
Look them in the eye
and ask them why.
Those who see
children shot dead
and choose the status quo
instead.
I’m sure that they’ll pretend
thoughts and prayers can make amends,
as people argue relentlessly
over and over again.
But talking is a sin
because what we need is a cure.
And one may never be found
because a cure must be searched for.
Look them in the eye
and ask them why.
Look them in the eye
and ask them why.
Death Over Life
Like a faucet
the thoughts,
they pour out
like the water
that drips
from my eyes,
heavy from the day,
I am tired of this way,
this path we’ve chosen,
death over life.
Ungratefully Grateful
I don’t want to live more gratefully.
I want the luxury to take my life for granted.
I don’t want to be reminded of our fragility.
I want the chance of pain to disappear.
We deserve to exist on our own terms.
Two rights make a wrong
when your right
suppresses mine.
We’ll Fall
Can we rewrite in real time
the rules of this arrangement,
the way that we engage with
all the people we call strangers?
Perhaps we’ve more in common
then we’re often told to believe.
Perhaps we’d figure that out
if we’d stop judging and just speak.
But oh, we only listen
to find space to interject
instead of just listening
to provide space to understand.
To understand all the things
we don’t understand at all.
We must choose to comprehend
or comprehend we’ll fall.
Toxicity
If we do not heal our wounds
we will bleed onto those who did not hurt us.
This saying affects me in ways I did not expect.
The expectation is the hardest part.
What it means to be a man.
Teach me, again, what it means to be a man?
Who taught you? And who taught them?
Each meaningless milestone
is wrought with our creation
worthless expectations that are unrealistic.
It’s almost sadistic how we push them onto others
and ourselves.
A toughness that evolves
only based on fear.
We wouldn’t need toughness
if there was no fear.
Why can’t we create
a kindness that permeates
and settles even the saddest souls?
And why do we call them wounds
when it’s more like a cancer?
Infecting generations
one after another.
We are not born equipped
to fend off these attacks.
But we cannot carry on
these sins of the past.
We owe it to ourselves
to sow and mend ourselves back together.
Because if we do not heal our wounds,
we will bleed onto those
who did not hurt us,
forever.
What if?
What if the pursuit of peace
isn’t a chase at all?
What if peace already lives
within our self-contained existence,
cloaked in its insistence
it never be found?
And as it hides we move our eyes
to look anywhere but here.
But here peace thrives
in the minutiae of life’s few stops,
in the breaths between our thoughts.
Peace is not some promise
or a prize to be won.
It’s not a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
Instead, you’ll find peace in the moments you stop moving.
Only when you end the chase
may peace reveal its place.