Posted in Poetry

Tomorrow

Freedom, America takes for granted
So clear now that it’s yesterday-
Never before so fragile
Reality creating dismay.

And you are nothing
When life makes you a chore-
And what is called compassion
Is an attempt to control open doors.

So control it back
By the power within you…
For no virus can attack
A heart filled and true…

And it will be tomorrow
Once yesterday is done
And you’ll awaken different
When the battle is finally won!

Liberty is flexible
When other worlds control your play-
Adapt to the moment
To make tomorrow the better day.

Normal

Normal
Such a fragile state
No fortune or promise
But realizing what is too late…
For it’s not to be
While wasting away-
It’s not gaining tomorrow,
But losing today…
What will life do?
But sit back and watch…
For it’s no matter
When permanently lost. . .
And what is new?
Out of something old…
Only what’s left-
Minus what we are told.

The Game

I think love has purpose even if it’s pain.
After all what else gives you so much to lose- with unbidden right to complain?

Each year it’s recognized- a little more youth is lost
And you add up the experience – while grimacing at the cost

The bends of the mind only squeeze the heart…
And it’s the swollen eyes in mirror – who tell you are coming apart.

Better to have loved and lost – we already brace for little gain…
But in these matters it’s never been about the rules- but how you play the game.

For Sake or…

Void of regular emotion
Young become zombies to life
Isolation a given confinement
Self-torcher for insight.
No one knows the adversary
Or understands…
It’s different now
Because reality is what we pretend.
Ghosts walk the halls, movies and games
Solving the next mystery
And deciding who to blame. . .
Then causing new misery
In order to wake up or wise
Without maturity of consequence
Or the ability to reverse time.
So absent of future
And certainty of death-
Merely the sake of forgiveness
Only after true regret.

ALIVE

Original Image Taken by JusTee

Ashes to the ground
Before tossed by wind
Never what was
But path made again…
Life so tangled
When destroyed but together
Like the worn map
Or lost buried treasure…
Proof is beyond
Noon or now
Within the nuance
Or a Will somehow…
For in the loss
Or changing scheme
Lies a purpose
Beyond what it means…
Life is a cycle
That never truly ends
No matter how altered
More to impend…
So often absent
In the course of our lives-
To stop and wonder
The gift being alive.

Blessed

11:11 on 11/13
Feeling relief
In long suffering

The toll was high
But you made me strong
Despite the lie

Deceptive they were
But weak in plan
Or judgement blur

And I am blessed
With you inside
And family vest

Moving on
Down a straighter road
And better song.