My finger is on the button.
Let me know when to press
it. One finger can change
everything. A single bomb,
when inside its proximity,
causes utter dysfunction
due to its mass destruction.
Leaving nothing but rubble,
a bomb will cause trouble.
When there is nothing left
but fragments of the past,
a thriving history surely
will not last. After a blast,
the surviving buildings
are just sad shadows cast.
Tell me when. I’ll press it.
When it is pressed, know
that’s when war begins
as peace is put to rest.
Tag: blast
Memory Lane
Today, the car is in cruise control.
I take it slow and go with the flow.
Today, I take a ride down Memory
Lane. I revisit past pain and travel
through time frames: different days.
I unravel. I tear up gravel to navigate
an unknown fate. I carry weight;
I talk to my shadows: old versions
of myself. Sometimes, I ask them
for help – words of advice. Miles
into Memory Lane, I face pain
and embrace joy all the same.
I see old friends of mine the way
they were before I last saw them.
I notice houses I used to live in;
I recognize yards I used to play in.
I begin to see places I have been.
Today, I met with Father Time
and rode down Memory Lane
before any new memories came.
Back Words / Backwards
Upfront, the words pierce
like razor-blades in a mouth.
But behind the words,
the truth remains about
The surface shows little
about the past we’ve seen
and it doesn’t reveal
what we mean.
The words come out
when we’re not sure.
but behind the words
is a soul full and pure
We go backward to
see the past,
But lose the present
moving too fast.
But we speak honestly
and from inside as
the surface reveals
what does not hide.