Yikes

Pick up the phone. Open Facebook. Yikes.
Face palm. Like, SMH. It’s alright to not
complain. Try to talk to someone with
a brain in their head without a phone
in their hand. Change of plans. Relax
your hands. Now, open Twitter. Yikes.
Nothing but litter. Open Instagram. Yikes.
Robots disguised as humans. Souls traded
for likes. Yikes. The internet can’t
be real because it doesn’t think or feel.
Yet, people that use it do, but they forget
what’s really real. What’s the big deal?
These words are real. They will live on
long after I’m gone. Pick up the phone.
Yikes. Put it down before you drown.


The Blame Game

Who is to blame in this game
of life? Who controls endings?
Beginnings? Who has a say
in how these things play out?
Who are the team captains?
Do they know what’s happening?
In life, there are players, coaches,
referees, judges, spectators,
commentators, analysts, rivalries,
and concessions. Is there anyone
to blame when we lose this game?
I say no because I know that
life can’t be tamed or controlled.
There is no way to predict
the outcome. There is no way
to get our hands on a script.
In this life, it is easy to play
the blame game by leaving
out our own names. Some
choose not to engage. Most
decide to play. Don’t give
blame, and take responsibility,
Remember that this game
turns out to be our reality.





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.