Slumber’s seduction: morning breaks, choices brawl.
Tasks nag, silent house, duty calls.
Breathe in, breathe out, stubborn resolve.
Laundry, groceries, clean—endless list unfolds.
Tackling tasks; which one comes first?
First: me time, tasks will wait.
I stretch, I think, I stretch some moreAwake enough to process dreamsAnd preserve new hopes on paperI stretch, I think, I stretch some moreI scribble, I scratch, I switch out wordsThen tap out new memoriesI stretch, I think, I stretch some moreAwake enough to process dreams
Am I enough?Is my torch(small, flickering, dim)enough to fightcongregating clouds?Will it lightmy unplanned path,fading hopeless,from deferred dreamsand freedom?Am I enough? Am I enough?Do I have strengthto stand against the tide,to replenish this arrid land,and allow all people be. Freedom callsfor our aid.Will I answer?Am I enough? Am I enough?Can I keep my spiritbright against encroaching…
Like a sea-bound sleuthI’m forever followingturtle tracksacross sandy beachesnever reaching the treasured turtlesnow ebbingto the depthsof the dark-bluesea
The GulfBottomlessblue waters,where warm currentscradle energy.Storms risein fits.Tempests swirlin whispered rage,thunder clapping,chaos breaking.Surely youwill carry somethingwhen you hitland.Our land,intentionally slicedto keep usseparate.Unequal.Angry.A divisioncuratedin those vastblue waters.You have renamedthe big blueabyss.Your endgame?Only youknow.But it leaves usisolatedfrom the worldbeyondthat blue gap. Building Bridges Across the Gulf Not everyone is trying to widen the distance across the gulf….
Dear truck drivers, We see you, and we’re sorry.
We’re sorry you have become pawns in this red-herring drive to divide and conquer.
A local indyjazz band,The Monsters,has openeda nightclubin my basement. Patronsgrooveto their coolrhythmsand riffsuntil weeearly-morninghours despitemy tirelesspleasto taketheir tunesto moreneighborlyvenues.
