Bombs Away

My finger is on the button.
Let me know when to press
it. One finger can change
everything. A single bomb,
when inside its proximity,
causes utter dysfunction
due to its mass destruction.
Leaving nothing but rubble,
a bomb will cause trouble.
When there is nothing left
but fragments of the past,
a thriving history surely
will not last. After a blast,
the surviving buildings
are just sad shadows cast.
Tell me when. I’ll press it.
When it is pressed, know
that’s when war begins
as peace is put to rest.



Dead Ends

The rubber met the road. The pedal hit the metal.
Raindrops filled the kettle. The explorer did not settle.
The peasant earns Shekels. Many faces wear frowns.
Some attendees heckled. The rubber met the road.
The host ended the show. Robots speak morse code.
Frogs claim to be toads. The snakes in the grass
slither fast as the blades cut and the blinds shut.
In life, follow your sight and do what is right.
Trust your gut. Pretend that you did not just hit
a dead end. Go spend time before time spends
you. It is time to lose the shoes and move out
of the way of the kicking boot. I mean, shoot.
Time to turn around. We are not quite ready
to sing the blues, read the news, or face
the fact that we must pay off our debt.
Just turn around and you will be free: set.









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.

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.

Trails

Without fail, we blaze trails
that will help others with
their paths. Like those
before us, we’re born into
life without foresight.
Like many before us,
we try harder than
those who came before.
We trust the process. We
step through unopened
doors to progress.
Whether walking alone
or with someone else,
blaze trails that will
make it easier for
generations to come.
The work is never done.
It’s better to blaze trails
than to chase tails.
Look far and wide for
beaten paths. Follow
your heart, and if you
get lost, blaze a trail
like ships set sail.
If need be, try new ways
to navigate the maze.
Blaze on and reach
the top before life
stops and our vision
is gone. Without fail,
create your own trails.