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.

Move

Hey. You! Yeah! You.
Move. Take a step.
Take a chance. Move.
Buy a new pair
of dancing shoes.
Find a different
groove. Don’t be
afraid to lose.
When you play,
pay your dues.
Move. It’s much
better when you
get to choose.
Keep on dancing
for your love is
everlasting. Move.
There is nothing
for you to prove.

Hide and Seek

In life, we hide the things
we don’t want others to see.
At the start, the end seemed
far. At the end, we couldn’t
tell the two apart. In life,
we seek, search, and want
things and people
out of reach. Life can be
a game of hide and seek.
Some disappear as quickly
as others appear. Some stay
still and are scared to move.
Some dance despite the mood.
In the end, we will find
all that has been hidden.
In the meantime, find time
to unwind as you release
all the things on your mind.

The Dumb Idiom Bum

I think he caught his second wind.
He keeps his cards close to his chest.
His back to the wall, he does his best
to weather the storm. Most thought
of him as a dumb idiom bum. Yet,
he was richer than the rest. He lives
in a house of business cards. Bet
he is a cat among the pigeons.
He buries every hatchet and burns
every bridge. He goes out on a limb
in cold blood. When life seems dim,
he looks on the bright side. Life is no
picnic, but it doesn’t get out of hand.
He writes his poems in a black book
in front of black cats with black caps.
He may give you the cold shoulder
or a skeleton from his closet. He is
the only human in a room full
of elephants wearing tight pants.
He raises the bar outside the lines.
He stays in the loop: has the scoop.
He will not drain his swamp.
No pain. No gain. And, he is here
to stay. The dumb idiom bum
chooses to live against the grain
because he is a free-spirit up to
no good for God knows how long.






Losing Count

I’m losing count of the days.
I’m not winning this game.
Many moons have fallen
before my eyes. Many stars
have burnt out. Many nights
have come. Many times,
I’ve lost track – lost count.
The number of times?
I’ll never know the amount.
I lose track of the time
as I pen lines that rhyme.
Sometimes, I wish I knew
how many times in life
that I have counted
the same day twice. Still,
the count is gone: lost.
Each line that I’ve drawn
has now been crossed.
Countless of times, I have
wasted time recounting.
Now, I think to myself:
I should’ve been rounding.