the hero springs from deep within
the giving that no thought provides
but yet is in the instant born
that sometimes distant sight derides
for those who do good can do ill
and observation shows us true
that many see no heroes since
for them, “good” is
what we don’t do
I dressed myself in arrogance,
My wealth an apparatus
To win the hearts of girls and women,
Both of whom love status
I made my choices poorly, true:
But it seems kind of funny
That I am called the shallow one
When they’re just after
Money
A friend who used to know you,
That someone you could trust,
A friendship that you swore would last
But crumbled into dust
For time is cruel and fickle
To both the great and small,
And of the things we lose, a friend’s
The saddest of
Them all
The cosmic fire burning:
But yet, as it went through,
The whole transfigured into light
And love, because of you
Because you would not keep the dark,
You broke it into fragments,
And now, the whole is charged with you,
And I’m drawn to
The magnets
Be upright in your thoughts and downright in your dealings, Let go of your dismay but hold on to your feelings. Let sisters stand as one but separate and distinct, And learn some love for each and all before we’re all extinct
Common cares and carelessness,
Singing songs and swinging arms,
Coming in community,
Children, knowing chants and charms
Soon forgotten, future framing,
Blaring trumpets, blocks of blaming:
Innocence — immunity —
Casual
Community
there is a walk we all must take
although the time be yet unknown,
besides the luminescent sea;
a place we all must walk alone
as chilly turns the living soul
into the place the story ends —
the family we leave behind,
the tales, the struggles, and the friends
who look for us, but cannot find.
the loss that is a piercing-through,
the one too many gone that makes
us wish that we were going
too
Years, and years, and decades —
The sights change, the sounds change, but
The silences are the same
In this silence, here, tonight,
You and I are driving down a beach,
With our young children sleeping, in the back,
Watching a multicolor sunset
Over a deep blue ocean.
In this silence, glowing, pulsing,
I’m a teen in my room,
Unable to sleep, restless,
With a drumbeat of hopelessness in my head
Only music could drown out.
Thank goodness for headphones.
In this silence, wide, and flat,
I remember the cries of pain from
Other residents in the hospital,
Some crying for the last time,
Some crying out of sympathy for the others,
But somehow, the silence pierced it all,
From the before drumbeats,
To the sunsets after,
Woven together
In silence
it’s true, I’m a believer:
but yet, I understand
that much I thought within my grasp
is past my weak command
for love is not a shouting thing:
when all that noise is done,
there’s only just the all of us,
and all of us
are one
