I look up and breathe.
Both my eyes close
as I exhale. I see you
take a breath after
I take mine. The air
between us thickens.
The energy flowing
means that tension
is growing. The air
between you and I
forms an invisible
wall – one too small
to see through. The air
between us dances
back and forth.
Recycled over again,
the air between us
is more than a gust.
The air between us
knocks off the rust.
It shakes off the dust.
I look up and breathe.
I smile and take in
the air that we share.
I looked in the crystal ball.
I saw my birth, rise, fall,
and death. I saw my life
with its darkness and light.
I saw roots. I saw my family
tree growing tall and strong.
I saw me as a child, exploring
unknowns, with an innocence
only children know and show.
I saw my future. I saw better
days. From an ariel view,
I saw the choices I made
and trees throwing shade.
I saw everyday as a game.
I was the star player showing
no fear: grinning ear to ear.
In the crystal ball, I saw
me at the top of a mountain.
I saw that I found a fountain
of youth. It’s the damn truth.
I saw it all in my crystal ball.
I know what I saw, and I saw
what I know. I saw my life
unfold. I saw me grow old.
In the crystal ball, I saw me
write deep into the night.
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.
The consensus is I must mention
the five senses. Our eyes help us see
different human beings. It can be
a sight to behold when people fold.
Smells expose our noses; we know
what is rotten based on the smell.
We can tell when people go bad, too.
We can have a taste of the good life
if we work day and night. We must
touch the hearts of those who are
feeling down. We must feel for all
things under the sun and those
under the gun. Most importantly,
we have to look out and see life
for what it is and is not. Think
about the energy you put out
into the world and ask yourself
if you are truly being yourself.
We must wake up and smell
the roses on a constant basis.
Feel the love – ask for help.
Take the time to see yourself
shine and remember to breathe;
we cannot forget to breathe.
Give me space: more light years:
enough time to chase the stars –
more chances to face my fears.
I am a space cadet with ears
that tune into alien frequencies.
You see? I hear what most don’t,
I see and believe that there is a
roaring breeze above the clouds:
a galaxy that is made just for me.
I see energy, atoms, and matter
for what they are. Life is strange,
but here we are. I want space:
all the space in the world, and all
the space outside of it. I admit.
I want to take lift – take flight
deep into the cold, still night.
I want to see life’s gift from afar:
the gift that most of us cherish.
I wish to travel past the confides
of my thinking and view my life
next to a shooting star’s light.
Sometimes, I seek outer space
when I just need inner peace:
enough strength to be free.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 