Yikes

Pick up the phone. Open Facebook. Yikes.
Face palm. Like, SMH. It’s alright to not
complain. Try to talk to someone with
a brain in their head without a phone
in their hand. Change of plans. Relax
your hands. Now, open Twitter. Yikes.
Nothing but litter. Open Instagram. Yikes.
Robots disguised as humans. Souls traded
for likes. Yikes. The internet can’t
be real because it doesn’t think or feel.
Yet, people that use it do, but they forget
what’s really real. What’s the big deal?
These words are real. They will live on
long after I’m gone. Pick up the phone.
Yikes. Put it down before you drown.


The Air Between

I look up and breathe.
Both my eyes close
as I exhale. I see you
take a breath after
I take mine. The air
between us thickens.
The energy flowing
means that tension
is growing. The air
between you and I
forms an invisible
wall – one too small
to see through. The air
between us dances
back and forth.
Recycled over again,
the air between us
is more than a gust.
The air between us
knocks off the rust.
It shakes off the dust.
I look up and breathe.
I smile and take in
the air that we share.

I Wonder

Sometimes, I sit there
and wonder. I think
as blue birds sing.
I get lost in thought
as church bells ring.
I drift away. I wonder
about things that
can’t be changed.
I wonder if I ever
broke out the cage.
I wonder about
the past. I remember
keeping track.
I wonder as rain
dances with thunder.
Sometimes, I sit there
and wonder. I forget
where I am. I fade
away before I
remember what
I was going to say.
Sometimes, I wonder.
Still. Silent. Content.
Sometimes, I wonder
where the time went.

Behind the Scenes

I am the leading actor
in this movie of life.
The cameras are rolling
all day and all night.
The scenes are shot
from my eyesight
with or without light.
The film developed
is stored in my brain.
There are no ‘cuts’ or
‘do-overs’. The camera
keeps rolling whether
sleeping or bowling.
As my movie finishes,
my memory diminishes.
Once the movie is made,
all things in life fade.
Only if you saw behind
the scenes, you would
understand the man
that I am. You would
see all that I was:
the good, bad, and ugly.
See me for me and look
for all the good things
that I am and will be.


Spilled Beans

Don’t cry over spilled beans.
Some secrets don’t make it
to the grave. By all means,
secrets get caught between
a rock and a hard place:
a happy and a sad face.
It’s one thing to give it away.
It’s another to never say.
One day, no one will care
for the beans we spilled.
Don’t cry over spilled beans.
Fear no judgement. Live on.
The spilled beans are gone
as our spirits grow strong.