How a Heart Beats

Day by day. Minute by minute.
Hearts tend to skip a beat
when we trip over our feet.
Hearts break after mistakes.
Hearts work hard to remedy
the pain created by the brain.
Hearts pump flowing blood
as tears and dirt make mud.
With each step, hearts beat
faster in times of disaster.
As long as my heart is still
beating, time is still fleeing.
I feel my heart pump slowly
with less blood flowing. Life
has taught me that heartbeats
appear when I face my fears.
In this life, I am starting to
notice how my heart works.
Now, through the joy and hurt,
I value life for what it’s worth.


Beam Me Up, Scotty

The humans have figured me out;
they know about my earthly mission.
Scotty, bleep bloopy. Bloopy bop. Bleep.
Only you will know what that means.
Anyway, the humans will try to keep
me here. So, I need you to beam me up,
Scotty. It’s different here. People hurt
others for being different: alien. Sure,
some don’t wear disguises, but most
hide behind a face that will change.
Before most sunrises, humans dream
of being part of the winning team.
There are too many surprises. Beam
me up. I can’t live in this human
body. Send the mothership, Scotty.

Windows

My eyes are windows,
and my mouth is
a door I slam shut
here and there.
My feet are floorboards.
My body is the house
that my mind powers.
I live here; I try to keep
it nice. I have my own
back. It supports me.
My arms reach out
to my neighbors.
My soul lives inside
the air that we share.
My heart hides beside
lungs that breathe
and preach peace.
My eyes are windows
to an unknown world.
Are you ready to go
to a place only I know?

How to; Write a Poem

Sit down. Close
Your eyes. Feel
Emotions wash
Over your soul.
Sit for a while.
Run a mile
In your mind.
Return to
Your body. Pick
Up your pen.
Then, lay down
Your journal.
Look internally,
Eternally. Let
Words flow
On the page.
Break free
From the cage
Causing you
Rage. Release
The pain inside
And find
That silver line
In each rhyme.
Rid yourself
Of the stress –
Put to rest
The weight
You carry
In your chest.
Write with no
End in sight.
Wrong or right,
Live a life
Worth writing
About before
Your pen’s ink
Runs out.

Weightless

Often times, I am floating
with nothing to hold me down.
I feel weightless like a feather
in just about any weather.
I feel weightless, yet I carry
all this weight. Sometimes,
I wonder how I can rid myself
of all bad things that remain.
The pain and anguish will soon
parish. I can feel myself become
light as negative thoughts rot.
My body will continue to drive
just as long as I want to ride.