Read the Room

You don’t have to be literate
to read the room. You don’t
have to know how to sweep
to use a broom. You don’t
need feet to own shoes.
Rooms are like books on
a shelf. People are like words
on a page. Sometimes, it takes
awhile for some to open up.
Each person has their own
definition of life. Views
and perspectives differ.
Beauty is in the eye of
the beholder. Lessons
are learned and days
grow shorter as we get
older. You don’t need
a folder to read the room.
Open your eyes and look
around. Take it all in
as you read the room.
From womb to the tomb,
leave no room for regret.
Read the room and learn
how fires burn. Read
each person’s face. Learn
just how the world turns.
Whatever you decide to do,
know that it is better to
read the room than to
leave the room. Look.
We can all be open books.

Down the Road

I see flowers growing
down the road. I see
them shooting through
the concrete. Under
my feet isn’t a street;
it’s a dirt road only
the roughest feet know.
I hear birds chirping
down the road. I see
the sun shoot rays
down the road. Now,
I stay in place, as I
take up space. I see
what could possibly be
in front of me. Down
the road is where I’ll go.

In My Eyes

In my eyes, I have seen
shapes, colors, hues
of light. To my surprise,
I have realized life
is a movie played from
a projector in the sky.
In my eyes, I have seen
highs – lows. Anything
goes when no one knows
the difference between
the weed and the rose
or the heat and the cold.
Like a bank, my brain
stores large amounts
of memories that can
bounce or go blank
from time to time.
In my eyes, life unfolds
and ignites a light
that burns through
the night. In my eyes,
I see you as you should
be seen: a special fire
that will always rise.


The Dumb Idiom Bum

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.






Darkness Ensues

My darkest day has not come.
When the candles burn out,
when the stars fade to black,
when my spirit starts to slack,
when the grim reaper attacks,
when nightmares become real,
when my fate becomes sealed,
when my skin forgets to feel,
my darkest day will come.
Until then, I will spend my life
spreading light before darkness
ensues; I have no time to lose.