Life is not black and white.
There is much to be seen.
There are colors in between.
Nothing is that simple.
There are shapes, shades,
and colors surrounding us.
There are colors in you
and me. There are blue
skies, green eyes, gray
gooses, black nights,
white lies, yellow sunflowers,
clear tears, red lobsters,
green monsters, red sunburns,
gray skies, silver bullets,
brown dirt, hot pink shirts,
brown bears, purple carpets,
Ivory stairs, golden years.
There is so much color
that gets painted onto
this blank canvas of life.
You can see so much more
if you just open your eyes.
A single dream can ignite a flame
that can light up a dark room.
A single dream can jumpstart
a dead battery or a broken heart.
A single dream can reveal a life
that only exists during the night.
A single dream can create motion
that juxtaposes life’s commotion.
A single dream can shed light
without burning too bright.
A single dream is all it takes
to get moving to the rhythm
of your choosing. Dream on
before someone else tells you
that dreaming big is wrong.
Haunted by voices, the only child sees
shadows pass by. When he closes
his eyes, he can still see the demons
haunting him. Noise fills the still air.
Haunted by those who won’t leave,
he stays up all night. One night,
the only child hears his name being called.
Afraid and awake, he walks toward
the voice calling his name. He gets
close enough to see a ballpoint pen
lodged between a blank journal.
The only child picks up the pen, filling
up the blank pages. He writes, “I’m not
real” over and over. The voices stop,
and the shadows disappear. The only
child closes the journal, then the curtains
are thrown open. The shining light
illuminates his transparent face.
The light shines right through.
Surrounded by life, the only child sees
his future then jumps into the past. It felt
so real for him. He almost forgot, he was
a lurking shadow, once alive and well.
The only child visits the blank journal
now and again to encounter memories
once made, remembered, and forgot.
Gone with the wind; we fly away today.
We knew we would not stay. It is hard to
say which way we are going or how fast
the wind is blowing. With no signs showing,
curiosity starts growing. The ways that we face
the days can dictate the rate at which we go.
Before we know it, things, times, people,
will be gone. Before long, we will learn
life’s unwavering song. As time flies, the sun
will rise just like the tide. There is no need to hide
when we seek the time to understand both
day and night. Gone, but never forgotten.
Here I am to feel fresh – never rotten.
Anyhow, I feel as if the wind blew me
out of my shoes. Now, I stay gone. I left to go
on a right path. Now, I have gone and found
a piece of peace: a life on the bright side.
I think he caught his second wind.
He keeps his cards close to his chest.
His back to the wall, he does his best
to weather the storm. Most thought
of him as a dumb idiom bum. Yet,
he was richer than the rest. He lives
in a house of business cards. Bet
he is a cat among the pigeons.
He buries every hatchet and burns
every bridge. He goes out on a limb
in cold blood. When life seems dim,
he looks on the bright side. Life is no
picnic, but it doesn’t get out of hand.
He writes his poems in a black book
in front of black cats with black caps.
He may give you the cold shoulder
or a skeleton from his closet. He is
the only human in a room full
of elephants wearing tight pants.
He raises the bar outside the lines.
He stays in the loop: has the scoop.
He will not drain his swamp.
No pain. No gain. And, he is here
to stay. The dumb idiom bum
chooses to live against the grain
because he is a free-spirit up to
no good for God knows how long.