In Another Time

These children of mine,
They cold call me on the past,
Asking about when I was young,
But nothing comes to mind.
They think I'm lying,
But I'm not.

Not really.

Sometimes situations arise,
Prompting sudden recall,
Buried memories surface,
And I share;

Carefully.

But mostly,
Everything is gone,
Wiped clean.
It was a different lifetime,
I say.
All those experiences that made me,
All those moments that built me,
And nearly killed me,
Happened in another time.
Every time I learned a little more,
About the world,
About myself,
Brought me here,
To you,
I tell them.

They eye me skeptically.
They seem to think I'm hiding something.

But those times seem to be erased,
Or at least eclipsed,
And really,
That is as it should be.
Because,
Now that you are here,
I say,
Nothing means as much as you.

All that transpired,
In a time before you arrived,
Matters not at all.

And it's true.

But of course,
They think I'm lying.

8-30-19

We're Not in Peoria

To the ones who've gone:

We miss you.
We try to carry on,
the way you would.
We try to use our time wisely.
We try to do our best.
But we fail.

Because we are human and frail.

Our small minds,
So good at deception,
Rearranging everything,
Truth twisted up into fiction,
All of the things we hear and see.
Until nothing can be trusted.
Not you.
Not me.

We endure a life without you,
With fumbled decency,
Without dignity,
All in the name of love and honor,
But we fail.

Because we are human and frail.

Weak of mind,
Weak of nerve,
Lost our hearts and our verve,
Only to sadly plod,
To the grave,
Eventually.

And every day,
Afraid to say the words we really want to say:
"Come back!"
"I wish you were here."
"What am I supposed to do now?"
"How come I got so lucky?"
"I don't deserve this."

"I'm not worthy."
But we're not in Peoria.*

We are adrift,
Feeling lost and dying every day,
Wishing on a fiction that no ghost could come and save.
No,
We're lost,
On our own,
And if that soul would come back,
If they even could,
Guess what?
We'd be lost together!

But in that chaos and disorder,
There is a poignant thread,
Just enough to grasp ahold of and pull,
Before we're dead.
And every day,
We want to shout,
But instead,
We remain quiet,
Polite,
Frustrated.
We fail.

Because we are human and frail.

What is it about this world that's so damn maddening?
Each and every day everyone is more and more demanding,
Even ourselves,
Just like vampires,
We crave more just because it's more,
But that's less than we deserve.
In the end,
It's absurd.
And what do I mean by that?
I mean everything,
It's all so pointless,
Frankly,
To come straight to the point,
In a roundabout way,
Like dimples on a dog,
It's just ridiculous!

But don't be alarmed
Maybe that's just me.
I'm just talking to myself.
Sometimes I need a reminder.
We are human.
We are frail.

We fail.
8-26-19

*Is that really a Wayne's World reference in poem about mortality? Yes, it is.

We Are Not Monsters

We are not monsters.

If you could but think before you speak,
Would you reconsider your words,
Dripping,
As they are,
With antagonism?

We are not monsters.

Will the words you choose lift others up or tear them down?
Go on,
Speak your mind,
But not at the expense of others.

We are not monsters.

Insults and labels weaken our bonds,
Tearing at our fabric,
Turning us into strangers.
And as strangers,
Reason seems to slip away.

We are not monsters.

Those who disagree are not your enemy!
Those who hold a different view,
They are not your foes.
Use your words not to denigrate,
But to empower and embolden.

We are not monsters.

No,
We are not monsters,
But we sometimes seem to forget.
We are not monsters,
But we sometimes act like it.

We are not monsters.
8-21-19

And They're Off!

I awoke with a start,
In the dark this morning,
Well before it was reasonable.
An unmistakable churning in my guts,
Followed by sweating,
Utter agony,
And a feeling,
That truly,
Really,
I was dying.

Psychosomatic symptoms?
Maybe.
There is a proven track record there.
As a third grader,
Stuck in the class of a villainous,
Sadistic tyrant,
I gave myself hives,
Just because,
I thought I might be held back.
The day we received our report cards,
Miraculously,
I was cured.

But today,
With a vile demon in my stomach,
I'm not so sure.
Yes, yes,
It's their first day.
That could be it.
One starting middle school,
One beginning high school.
Oh, the terror!
I'm not worried about them,
(Although perhaps I should be, right?).
They will ride the tides and tumult of life,
Experiencing ups and downs,
Just like the rest of us.
No,
I'm sick,
I think,
Because what this means,
Is the end,
The end of one sweet chapter.
And,
It means the start of a new,
Unknown story,
That extends into the mists of the future.

Where did those soft,
Defenseless,
Delicate little creatures go?
How has the time passed so quickly?

It's an old lament,
But it makes me sick,
(Even if it's all in my head).
8-14-19

Spread Your Love Like Sunshine

Spread your love like sunshine,
You've got plenty to spare.

Check in on your loved ones and neighbors.
Don't be too self-absorbed to notice that they are drowning,
Or slipping,
Or fallling,
Or cracking.

They need you,
But they may be unable to express that need.

Spread your love like sunshine,
You've got plenty to spare.
The warmth of your heart,
The kindness you display,
It is powerful,
It changes everything.
And it may make a difference to someone,
Simply because your radiant glow let them know they are loved.

So,
Spread your love like sunshine,
You've got plenty to spare.

8-4-19

A Small Thing

We are due for a change,
A lifting up of our masses,
Of ourselves.
We must use our large capacity brains,
One of nature's miracles,
For deeper thinking,
Empathy,
Understanding,
Compassion,
And love.

Our hearts have done all they can.

Our prayers,
Our well-considered thoughts,
Our condolences,
They are empty.

We cannot choose to throw up our hands in desperation any longer.

We can no longer simply shake our heads in disbelief.

Our miraculous existence,
Bourne from eons of tinkering,
Mistakes,
False starts,
Untimely ends,
Barbarous behavior,
And,
Ultimately,
Our tribal success and survival,
Is a result of our collaborative nature.

We have continued as a species,
In spite of our weak bodies,
Because of our creative problem solving,
Because we work together,
Which is similar to the herds of the Earth.

Animals cooperate.

It is good.

But perhaps it is our animal nature,
This uncharming propensity,
Instinctual and savage,
To cull the herd,
To turn our backs on the weak,
Recoil from the sick and injured,
Despise the slow and lost,
To bully the little guy,
That still causes harm today.

We cannot ignore the pain of those who are damaged and unable to fend for themselves.

We should look out for them.
We should look after them.
We take care of ourselves,
But we should also take care of one another.

If the downtrodden and disaffected,
The detached and delicate,
Are not given a hand,
Their sadness,
Their disillusionment,
Their misdirected rage,
Can and will manifest itself in ways that are unthinkable.

Except they are not unthinkable.

These things happen every day now.

Every day.

Reaching out with gentle hands,
With kindness,
A willingness to listen,
Building a network of love,
Of care,
Of concern,
Maybe this could change things.

Maybe helping others heal,
Standing with them,
Giving them the strength to face the roots of their pain and suffering,
It may not change everything,
But it certainly won't hurt.

Instead of ignoring those in distress,
We should lend them a steady hand.
We should reel them in,
Help them step back from the brink.

We should open our eyes and hearts,
And,
We should act.

Even the tiniest gesture can be a balm.

8-3-19