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.

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.


Sacrificial Salvation

Much has been sacrificed
for you to find salvation.
Hope salvaged in savages.
Salvation comes at the end
of work and sacrifice. Ice
melts as the fire stays lit.
The ground that you walk
on is no place to sit. Foot –
prints remind you to look
behind you and remember
how fires start from ember.
Sanity, time, and stability
has been sacrificed just for
us to play nice – to be nice.
The life we choose to live
has been a gift from those
who did nothing but give.
Life can be given, taken,
and mistaken. Sacrifice
what you must and trust
you find your salvation,
so those after us can do
the same to fan the flame.



Savages of the Night

The trees are thick with stones – sticks.
The watering holes quench many souls.
Deep in the forest, its’ people rest.
Peace lives within people of nature.
Tribes dance, sing, and believe in what
they wish. People of the tribe are not
savages. They are like everyone else;
they want to be left alone. Those who
cut trees and disrupt the peace are the
real savages. Those who ravage
and pillage are savage. There’s peace
in the tribe as spirits come alive.