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.

Look Alive

Don’t be a dead man walking.
No need to be a sitting duck.
Don’t be down on your luck.
No need to be feeling bad
when you miss all the things
you wish you could have back.
Don’t stare at your reflection
for too long. Change it up.
No need to replay the song.
Move on. Wake up and look
alive. Buy the ticket and enjoy
the ride. Know when to show
and when to hide. Look alive.
No need to slip into the night
when we can just take flight.

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.

Step-Poet

These words aren’t mine. Well, the configuration,
the arrangement, and the manifestation of them
are mine to tell, yell, or sell. The rest falls on me.
I own nothing. I just borrow letters and words
that were said, used, or abused in old worlds.
I rent these words – these phrases: these upper
and lower cases. I use these words. They don’t
go to waste. These words help me save face.
They can tell you things that my mouth won’t.
I will never dishonor these words as they are
sacred to me. They provide light: the insight
that does me right. Like eyes that envision
better days, these sentences help me create
early mornings and dark nights running late.
These words aren’t mine, but I treat them
like they are. They carry me through the day
when I don’t have anything to say. Anyway,
I use these words to tell you to stay true
to yourself and to never forget about things
that will help you through all of the pain.



Father Time

Don’t hit fast-forward.
Don’t press rewind.
Press play and watch
memories from the past
come to life. Take it
slow and pay attention
to the days that pass by
most of our closed eyes.
Look too far and miss
today. Don’t look at all
as our doubts grow tall.
Don’t rush. In our lives,
things may come and go,
yet we will come to learn
there is more to know.
Father time has his hands
full with grains of sand
flowing to his sandals.
Only he knows when
his palms are empty.
Only we can know that
this life is a blessing.