such endeavors for naught!
such means to what end should soulless self disregard produce?
such denial of inner truth for outward propensities
the greatest crime against humanity I would be in inclined to answer
to maintain your mind
your essence
is to live life for self.
to what end should living for another produce?
to live as one but not your own.
a cloaked seat of passion

look back from your resting place with humility
to see only people who grieve one that was foreign
to mourn a soul which died a mere embryo
longing the span of life to be born
and merely to be spurned and clandestine
your sweet here after shall also be withheld

life is no such conundrum
no such trivialities to bemoan
in such brevity I reveal my lament for you
not be mine own oracle
your breath of life speaks it you
that truth be the epitome of inherent serenity
to live love learn and seek truth
virtuous and pious...

Untitled
Ants on the ant hill
running
somewhere to be
somewhere to go
something to do
scurrying for that crumb that makes them full
content in sitting on a grain of sugar all day
with a mind do you think they would realize how trivial they are?
see they are no different from the one that sits next to them?
so why is it.....
with our given ability to intellectualize
that we cannot see what ants we all are?
somewhere to go?
somewhere to be?
scurry for a crumb to be full?

Reevaluate the Norm
He died at the age of 95
lived a glorious life....
a life full of happiness...
of wisdom...
of fruitful taste...
of amenities uncommon....
of lessons learned and lessons taught....
of life itself.

An artisan
A composer
A scholar
A father
A husband
A modern day renaissance

he grew senile with age
grew wiser nonetheless
animated regardless
his last words of love and prudence

Yet you mourned his dying
You weeped his passing
such displays of agony and sorrow
You spoke that his life was not over...
that his journey was incomplete...
that he had much yet to show us...

was that really it?
was it so very tragic?
or did you mourn because you would be inadequate without him?
because of insecurity?
because of abandonment?
because of fear?
Do you mourn his death or one inside yourself?

When did his death become a question about you?

Things Left Unsaid
I am ripping at the seams with words I wish you would hear
desperately trying to be understood
opening my eyes so you’ll look harder
engulfed with fury

why won’t you listen when I’m not talking?
why do you see the moon but not the stars?
why do you see the fruit of the tree but not the leaves?
why do you only see what’s past your nose?

I can wade ankle deep through your mind
Can’t you see my bloody tears?
Do you see through me? over and around me?
do you see me at all?
Do I speak in tongues you have not heard before?

I need you to listen...
to see my heart trickling from every bit of myself..
to hurt when I hurt..
to fly when I fly...

grab my hand when I reach for you...
throw a rope when I’ve fallen...
lend an ear when I’ve lost my own...
offer a shoulder when mine are sagging...

do you eat breathe speak and sleep your numbness?

I wish you could see your own blindness.

Why?
from under a rock
growing from the darkest richest earth
growing from the driest grayest sands
hundreds shoulder to shoulder
yet each is alone
struggling to be strong
struggling to be alive
Why?
stretching out arms over arm
stretching for more room to allow itself to grow
keeping the others away for fear they will trample
pick one for behind your ear or to string through a button hole
some reminder of life and nature... of purity?
if you only knew
it dreads the biter frost that has repeatedly taken its toll
it dreads the strong wind that uproots it and takes it somewhere foreign
might it grow a thorn today? would that keep the bad away?
arms pulled tight to their seemingly frail body
You would think that would keep them standing nice and tall and strong
Why are they there all crowded in that way?
you can’t tell one from the other
yet each is their own and just wants to exist
Why?
screams to be heard
screams to be cared for
screams to be seen
aren’t we all just wildflowers?

Reflections
once in your eyes
such radiance
love of life and self
your smile warmed my heart
even on the coldest days
your laugh made me content
in knowing you were happy
but you grew tired
of feeling I was the only one you made happy
you grew cynical
with such ambivelance
where you once poured out virtue
is now resentment
your once bright eyes
clouded with tears
and rage
with void
I miss seeing your twinkling eye looking back at me in the mirror
I miss myself