Pulling Petals

Days pass by, and the petals

fly. In a glorious garden, life

slows down; I can now zero

in on sounds that have yet

to be heard. I look around.

I see vibrant colors and shapes.

Without thought, birds and bees

survey the land. Abundant motion

surrounds a restless soul. I see

trees dance above a strong ground.

Coexisting with each other, all forms

of life carry on with no concern.

Not asking to be born, I learn to ask

how to live a life without keeping

track of all that I lack. I ask flowers

what it feels like to be pulled, planted,

cut, watered, and given away. I pluck

a flower in the midst of April showers,

and I begin pulling petals. One by one,

under the justified sun, I start pulling

petals. “She loves me. She loves me not”.

Asking questions that go unanswered.

After another question, the flower

was naked, missing its petals. Because

of my questioning, the flower’s beauty

is missing. I destroyed something due

to me not believing. I knew that my

doubt washed all the beauty out.

I lay the flower stem on the dirt,

and I realize my questions did

nothing but cause pain and hurt.

Hotdog in the Rain

As I sit on this bench, I can’t
help to notice my hotdog is
getting wet. Rain falls relentlessly
from the sky. Each drop dances
in solitude, enduring a new
opportunity to spread faith
and love in new life. Dark clouds
loom from above. I can’t help
to do nothing but sacrifice
the inner voice that destroys
all grace. At peace, I look up
and I don’t see catastrophe.
I see a forgiving sky wanting
to be remembered, crying to be
cherished. As I continue to sit,
I don’t stress a bit. Wet hotdog
and all, my worries remain small.
Lightning strikes the trashcan
next to me. Flabbergasted, diverse
feelings course through my body,
reaching my soul: my fulcrum.
I sit on this bench; I remain calm
Trust me, that’s no taradiddle.
I may be stuck in the middle,
but this poignant pain helps
me see rain as draining pain.
The dark skies help me realize
that life will shine its bright light
during the darkest of nights.
I don’t forget that my dog is wet.
It could be worse; I could be dead.


Shell Shock

The war is far from over. Each day
awakens another demon. To say
that life is a breeze must be a lie.
It is hard to stay positive when
you know, you too, will someday
die. All we can do is try to stay
sane. There is a war inside all
of our brains. There is some sun,
but mostly rain. Life can be fun
if we decide to run before father
time tucks us in. What we lose
in things is gained in wisdom.
When the dust settles, we will
see that past souls have risen.
The war is far from over, yet
the score is far from set. Bet
on yourself and don’t give up.
When feeling shell shocked, be
the rock that does not stop
staying on top. Win the battle
today. Strap on your saddle.
Ride closer to the finish line.
When the war is finally over,
our mission will be complete.
That’s when we will be okay.
That’s when we will feel peace.

Down in Flames

Fight fire with fire. See
the flames kiss the sky.
Watch the sparks fly.
Feel the temperature
rise as cold weather
dies. Think back to
a time when the clouds
cried. Feel the heat
rip like a baseball
hitting a catcher’s mitt.
Poison swirls inside
a dormant mind.
Love stays on
the brain as hate
goes down the drain.
When life knocks,
do not be afraid
to open the door.
When the heat rises,
try not to go down
in flames. Save your-
self. Ask for help
before you strike
matches that will
turn all into ashes.



Fade to Gray

Time continues to slip
through my gentle grip.
The clothes on my back
continue to get ripped.
My words get flipped.
Blue skies open wide
bringing those who hide
out into the holy light.
Blue skies seem to fade
to gray when the sun
goes away. I don’t mind
doing a little dance
under the thunder.
Days fade to gray
as rain drops drip
onto a vacant crypt.
All colors eventually
fade to gray. Evidently,
some shade is man-made.