Category: Uncategorized

Cry

Cry for Humanity,

heaven’s tears are falling down gray skies
on dirty land always littered with man-made debris.
Wash away our transgressions, our apathy, our graceless planetary care.
Our world, our home undergoing greedy renovations.
Man’s desire for greatness marking every surface
The ice breaks, the walls close in.
Our vast and sprawling land decimated,
Crammed with Leaders of Unjust Progress.

Cry for your country,

Your tears water the barren fields of yore.
The man at the plow has ran away,
chasing whispers of better opportunities that his forefathers left unheard.
We endanger life, we feed on lies
Trapped between extreme thirst and flood
We starve for attention, for recognition, for bread
Our dreams but grains of rice, we count them one by one.

Cry for family,

the one great love
Bound by blood and strife.
When confined and without distraction, we can grow no closer
Too close not to fight, all bark and bite
Volatile chemistry, sparks of creativity
Bitter words, Bittersweet memories
Man is shaped by his family
He is molded by those he draws near.

Cry!
For yourself,
For your calling
For your freedom in the light
Cry to your God, to the being that will answer
Cry till the tears turn to blood and wash away your insufficiencies.

Passive Listening: A poem about podcasts

Podcasts are so much easier than conversations.

The measured and thought-provoking ideas that speak to you

with excited nerdiness and self-assured expertise.

Intro music and manufactured giggling,

a dash of Casper, Quip and Audible promos for

a rainy day companion with a pause button.

Wouldn’t it be nice if you could fast-forward social niceties?

Skip the bolstering and rumor mongering like peddlers selling ratty washcloths.

No more missed calls or tired exaggerations.

It’s easy to listen when it’s on your own terms,

but it doesn’t make you a good listener

just a content one

Podcasts aren’t a strain on my social battery.

There’s no nagging or whining, just

Revolutions and Planet Money

with a dash full of Criminals.

They’re useful, informative, and minimal

and they don’t get mad when you fall asleep.

It’s getting personal without the people.

Listening without commitments as the sound vibrates

in your head-shaped works in progress. 

Taking the Leap

Writing a poem is discovering. Robert frost said that, so here I am discovering if I have any potential as a poet. No matter how hard I try and trust me I’ve tried a lot. I can’t seem to shake the feeling I might be good at this. In this blog I’ll be displaying some of my latest attempts at poetry hoping against hope someone will read it and not want to go jump off the deep end.

Poetry is what happens when nothing else can -anonymous