if these hands could talk

If these hands could talk, they wouldn’t stop.
They would tell you stories of the past.
These hands would teach you lessons
of hard work and perseverance. These hands
would just because they could. All the scars,
callasses, bruises, and creases show others
that life is a long, winding road that eventually
ends. I can’t pretend that it has been easy.
But, if it were easy, what would it teach me?
These hands would tell you that it will be
okay. You will move on and see a new day.
If these hands could talk, you would understand
that I have gone to war, but came out alive.
Yes, these hands would tell you that I survived.
In this life, these hands have been wet, burned,
bloodied, hurt, and disregarded. But these hands
would tell you that we are just getting started.
If these hands could talk, they would scream:
“Hold me as I long for touch and acceptance”.
They would talk just to talk just like feet walk.

Hindsight

What was I thinking?

I’m not even sure that

I know the answer to

that question. Did I ever

mention that, no matter,

the intention, thoughts

become suspended? Days

of my past mix together.

Former ideas whirl around

like a reverberating sound.

I couldn’t tell you what I was

thinking. All I know is what

I was feeling. Hindsight is 20/20.

Some days were bad even when

it was sunny. I look back before

walking through the next door.

Under the Hood

Look under the hood
before you ride.
Discover what drives
you. Cars with dents
and dings still run.
Being an older car
takes you just as far.
Every car is different.
Some cars are new.
Others just make do.
Different builds, colors,
and interiors show
us not one single car
is superior. Stop.
Pop the hood and
get a good look.
If you can tell that
all is well, then go
faster. Drive further.
Change the oil,
buckle up, and hit
the gas. No need to
make it last because
in the end, whether
we were slow or fast,
we crash or get passed.


New Face. Who Dis?

Leatherface beat the case.
He can wear many faces.
Tall as hell. One can tell
evil consumed him and
his heart. All his exes live
and died in Texas. You
bet he ate George Strait.
He kept his chainsaw ripping
and his cholesterol high from
eating enormous apple pies,
Kentucky Fried chicken
thighs, and human eyes.
He cares not that he is
“slow” or dumb. If you
hear the chainsaw: run.
The fun has just begun.
Leatherface can’t die.
He will beat another
case. Life is a race,
and he’s in first place.
There is no need
to worry. Leather-
face may be as dumb
as nails, yet he is as tough
as them. He can’t spell,
but he can read brail.
He does mean well.
Too bad there’s no one
left who can tell.

Slow and Steady

Let’s rock slow and steady.
Easy does it. Nice and slow.
There’s no rush when there
is nowhere to go. Slowly
moving into the unknown.
No need to speed. Let it be.
Slow and steady; I’m always
ready. Life can be heavy,
and when it rains, it pours.
I keep going steady. I move
with the current. Slowly,
I work my way towards
a new day. I keep going,
slow and steady – I think
to myself. I wonder if all
will be well. Who knows?
Really, only time will tell.