We need
a spoonful
of candor
to curb the cries
from cankerous tongues
that burn
biting mobs
This is a continuation of my thought that started with A Shot in the Arm.
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I write
I write laughterI write tearsI write faithfullyTo confront my fears I write ‘cause I readI write ‘cause I liveMy ink’s what I bleedMy soul’s what I give My writing’s not perfectIt requires constant revisionUntil word choice reflectsMy authentic vision I scratch; I scribbleI delete; I copyI rearrange wordsIt’s what makes me happy
Yes, Even Them
Love. We are commanded to love. But who should we love? We ask. Even them He commands. Them. Those we whisper about behind closed doors. Those we cross streets to avoid. The addict. The liar. The one who betrayed trust. Yes, even them. The neighbor flying the flag you condemn. The stranger praying a different…
Unwilling
We walk past the unnoticed,Insisting they remain unseen.Shout over the unspoken,Their words unheard, assured. In streets lined with untouchables,Eyes fixed on paths familiar, unyielding.Real problems of heart lie hidden, unresolved,Questions unanswered, unexplored, obscured. Will pleadings touch unyielding ears?Will the unmovable whisper, “Let’s try?”Will the unengaged refocus eyes?Will we listen to understand?
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