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.
Tag: older
Carried Away
Today, I got carried away.
Instead of work, I play.
Sometimes I forget to live
without stress. The older
I get, the shorter the days.
Today, I got carried away
from what I was doing.
Half the time, I don’t know
which direction to go.
The other half of the time,
I don’t know if I should
go outside or stay in
and hide. These long legs
carry me away. One point
to the next. Feeling blessed
in my chest, I hold my head
high. I look to the sky. I see
wings carry birds away.
I feel the wind chill my skin.
I can count on my days
getting carried away.
My mind might stray, yet
my body will stay. Blue
skies littered with birds
help me find the words
needed to carry me away.
I look ahead and know that
one day, blues fade to black.
The New Me
Take a look at the new me.
Don’t I look so different?
I couldn’t tell you where
the time went or how
commonsense was spent.
The current me is new,
and I live to be better –
more refined and defined.
The old me helped me see
what could be. The old me
didn’t care about we.
The new me believes
it takes a village to set
all free. Me – old, young,
fresh, or rotten – can’t
be forgotten. The old me
wanted what I now have.
It is time for the new me
to have the last laugh.
Hahaha – Blah Blah Blah.
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.
Memory Lane
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.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 