Take the long way home.
Look around as you roam.
Don’t be afraid to believe
that love will set us all free.
Take the time to view places
you once knew. Watch as
grey skies turn blue. Listen
to sounds you once heard.
It takes too long for letters
to become words. Sit. Wait
as time drives us to our fate.
Take the long way home
and take time for yourself.
The long way always helps.
Today, the car is in cruise control.
I take it slow and go with the flow.
Today, I take a ride down Memory
Lane. I revisit past pain and travel
through time frames: different days.
I unravel. I tear up gravel to navigate
an unknown fate. I carry weight;
I talk to my shadows: old versions
of myself. Sometimes, I ask them
for help – words of advice. Miles
into Memory Lane, I face pain
and embrace joy all the same.
I see old friends of mine the way
they were before I last saw them.
I notice houses I used to live in;
I recognize yards I used to play in.
I begin to see places I have been.
Today, I met with Father Time
and rode down Memory Lane
before any new memories came.
There are those who make laws
and those who break laws.
There are those who fall
in the middle: standing on
the thin line dividing the two.
Laws are made – and broke:
changed – rearranged -repealed.
There is man’s law, and there is
God’s law. The law of the land,
the law of attraction, the law
of inertia, or the law of cause
and effect are just some laws
in place to keep all life safe.
Both sides of the law form
a perfect circle: a cycle of sorts
that will continue to spiral.
Good will always be at war
with evil, and love will always
fight hate. Destiny will always
challenge fate. Lawmakers
will always need lawbreakers.
The vicious cycle goes full circle
regardless of the side we choose.
What we do: what we say
comes into play everyday.
The choices we make take
form and can transform
into the start of a storm.
The choices we make
can clean or poison
life’s existential lake.
To be or not to be? See?
There is a choice to be
made – an option to take.
Which way will we go?
At times, we don’t know.
Make the right choice
or don’t. Either way,
the life we live shows
us we are in control
of our delicate souls.
Life or death? I choose
living a life – feeling
alright. I choose to live:
an option we all get.
A Poet’s dream is to be heard
and not seen. A Poet’s dream
is to create, to wait, and to
discover one’s own fate.
A Poet’s dream manifests itself
in words, sounds, and mounds
of half-written ideas found
under the surface: underground.
A Poet dreams a dream brighter
than the sunlight and better than
a good night under the stars’
inviting sight. A Poet’s dream
is to change the world –
to rearrange things to release
one’s hidden pain. Just like
ghosts, Poets do not show them-
selves, but they do know them-
selves. A Poet’s dream
is to live a life that can manifest
itself before and during the night.