Down the Road

I see flowers growing
down the road. I see
them shooting through
the concrete. Under
my feet isn’t a street;
it’s a dirt road only
the roughest feet know.
I hear birds chirping
down the road. I see
the sun shoot rays
down the road. Now,
I stay in place, as I
take up space. I see
what could possibly be
in front of me. Down
the road is where I’ll go.

Dear NASA,

Give me space: more light years:
enough time to chase the stars –
more chances to face my fears.
I am a space cadet with ears
that tune into alien frequencies.
You see? I hear what most don’t,
I see and believe that there is a
roaring breeze above the clouds:
a galaxy that is made just for me.
I see energy, atoms, and matter
for what they are. Life is strange,
but here we are. I want space:
all the space in the world, and all
the space outside of it. I admit.
I want to take lift – take flight
deep into the cold, still night.
I want to see life’s gift from afar:
the gift that most of us cherish.
I wish to travel past the confides
of my thinking and view my life
next to a shooting star’s light.
Sometimes, I seek outer space
when I just need inner peace:
enough strength to be free.

Beam Me Up, Scotty

The humans have figured me out;
they know about my earthly mission.
Scotty, bleep bloopy. Bloopy bop. Bleep.
Only you will know what that means.
Anyway, the humans will try to keep
me here. So, I need you to beam me up,
Scotty. It’s different here. People hurt
others for being different: alien. Sure,
some don’t wear disguises, but most
hide behind a face that will change.
Before most sunrises, humans dream
of being part of the winning team.
There are too many surprises. Beam
me up. I can’t live in this human
body. Send the mothership, Scotty.

Hourglasses

The sands of time fall through
the hands of time. Hours, minutes,
and seconds rain from above
and shower clocks with love.
Each grain that slips through
is a day… maybe two. The grains
can be blue, black, grey, or green.
Every second that will pass
will do so fast. Every minute
will sink as the timeline shrinks.
Check your hourglass and see
what time is left. Stay calm –
dump some sand in your palm.
Lend me both of your hands;
let us stay still as we fill
space in this mysterious place.


Tommy Two-Face

Tommy has two faces.
He wears them both
proudly. He walks around
to a sound: yet to be found.

Tommy has seen a lot.
A specific place will dictate
Tommy’s telling face.

When Tommy Two-Face
looks in the mirror,
he sees a reflection
of a boy stuck
between good and evil,
happy and sad, nice
and mean. Tommy isn’t
sure if others know
about his two faces
that cover all bases.

No matter the direction
Tommy will face,
he will always find
his happy place.

Regardless of Tommy’s
dark space, he chooses
to wear the better face.