Memory Bank

Deep in my mind, memories get stored.
My brain is a steel trap that opens
and closes. It’s impossible not to
remember a burning fire and how
it came from an ember. My mind
is a bank that will never be blank.
Blank checks and recurring thoughts
do not need to be bought. My mind
does not idle. Boredom often rivals
constant brain activity. It’s on file.
Memories deposited take refuge
in the deep depths where thoughts
of life and death intersect. Accounts
of my life stay full as good moments
fill my soul. Overdraft fees bring me
to my knees and memories do as
they please. My memory bank fills
up like a cup that never spills.

False Profit

We work most of our days

for a false profit. The richness

we seek will surely leave us

weak. Day in and day out,

we lose ourselves in the vast

shadow that society casts.

We chase paper that means

nothing in the end. We search

for happiness that only exists

inside of our hearts. We yearn

for love, but find ourselves

lost inside of price and cost.

Every day, we feel empty due

to the temptation of possessions.

We tend to value things that have

a price tag, which leaves us stuck

inside a self-made cage. Numbers

become more important than words.

We love to eat chicken, but we don’t

consider the journey of the birds.

Before we know it, our lives will be

nothing more than repetitive steps

that drags us down to the deepest

of depths. One day, you and I will

be memories of the past. Let’s hope

we can burn all of our cash before

both feet touch the ground on

the other side of the door. More,

more, more is what we want, and

loneliness is what we get. We must

not work for a false profit. No amount

of cash will make our happiness last.

Simon Says…

Get this bread. Fill your head.

Love endlessly. Laugh often.

Nail the coffin shut. Strut

your stuff. Call their bluff.

Say anything except “but”.

Find different ways to

fill your cup. Look up to

your friends, not your foes.

Survive the lows and enjoy

the highs. Become surprised.

Live through your own eyes.

Don’t wait until they dry.

It won’t last if you go faster.

Slow down in times of disaster.

No need to talk when you can

listen to the voices you have

been missing. Enjoy this time

as death will, one day, take

both you and me away.

Rope Burns

As life gets heavier,
my grip naturally tightens.
I am playing tug of war,
and on the other side
of the rope is the fear
that I lose all hope.
I am always trying
to stay grounded when
my mind is flying.
I am trying to live
instead of thinking
of death or dying.
When I try to pull,
I feel that the hole
in my soul becomes
filled: almost full.
In this life, I tug, tug,
and tug. I attempt to
stand on top of a rug
that is being pulled
from under me. See,
these rope burns
come easy. I won’t
slip or lose my grip
until the sweet taste
of victory drips off
of my quivering lips.

Gray Days

Some days are gray days.
Dark clouds. Heavy rain.
No umbrella can help
us stay dry. Some days,
gray days fade to blue.
Most days, raindrops fall
turning seeds into trees.
Some days, the breeze
reminds us of the cold
world we occupy. We try
to get through the gray
days. On the worst days,
we find ways to follow
the light that pierces
the darkness. We have
seen many gray days.
We know it to be tough
when smooth becomes
rough. We know that
life has its ups, downs,
and roundabouts. Life
is full of green grass,
blue skies, gray days
and we are full of life.
Look past the haze;
do not let gray days
take the sunshine away.