Happy Independence Day

A laid back celebration this year…

Wasted youth

The parking lot was full
Spilling over onto the boulevard
Hearse at the ready
To lead the procession

102 in the shade
Suffocating humidity
No breeze to speak of
All those gathered
Dressed in black

Mourning the loss
Young life wasted
Blood and tears pouring
Tragically taken

Listening through the wall
Razors trembling fingers
As her mother fucked
Yet another unknown stranger

The warning signs
Flashing neon
Young voice hoarse
Screaming out for help

But she had no interest
In playing mother
Too busy living
Her own lost youth

The belle of the ball
Life’s ongoing party
Of superficial friends
Hookups and hangovers

Standing at the graveside
Pounding in her head
Fist full of dirt
Her only child dead

Worth retrieving

She watches the water
Flow lazily by her window
Gently being pulled
By the slow moving current

Offering further proof
In the power of connections
Something she once put
Total faith in

Reduced to a place
Where she no longer believes
Still searching for her own truth
Once given so freely

A journey she must make
In order to retrieve it
Tangled in that web
Of lies and deceit

Snapshot Saturday

This was truly a frightening drive home…

Quote of the day

A perception, sudden as blinking, that subject and object are one, will lead to a deeply mysterious understanding; and by this understanding you will awaken to truth.

~ Huang Po

Shallow Sal

Just as it began
To materialize
For the first time in
His life

Wrapping his head
His heart around it
Embracing with wild
Abandon

Shifting perception
To a clearer view
Uninhibited
Filled with wonder

Unveiling calm
In the storm of
His life
To his true self
Introductions made

Freedom offered
At too high a cost
He weighed the options
Too much to be lost

He fabricated a story
That fit the bill
Sold his soul
For that house on
The hill

Building his arsenal
Of material possessions
At the end of day
Believing he’s
Made it

Seeking truth

Before the fire
Flames dancing bright
Quest for visions
Sought this night

For Dad

Happy Father’s Day!
Hope you get your OM on.
Wish you were here.
I love you, love you, love you….
xoxo

Stalker-Ella

She asks questions
Too many
For my zone
Of comfort

Personal in nature
A stalkers arsenal
As if to glimpse
Inside my world

Ridiculous assumptions
Personal judgments
Strange fascination
Prying curiosity

Gathering information
Painting a picture
By what she sees
Thinks she knows

What is the purpose
This strange fascination
Just take my order
Give me my espresso

4:44

4:44 eyes open wide
Lay in the dark
Gaze at the clock

4:44 make a wish
So the final chapter
Begins

4:44 everywhere I look
Is it malicious intent
Or only mere coincidence

4:44 how to break the spell
Locate and remove the
Emotional connection chip

4:44 she looked at his photo
Saw right through
Called his emotional baggage

4:44 he died that day
Sexual abuse at such
A young age

4:44 he lost all trust
Made it his life’s mission
To punish all women

4:44 he took what he wanted
Truth of it was
I could have loved him

4:44 heartless son of a bitch
Died twice on my watch
Come to raise the dead

4:44 just go away
To your charm once more
I refuse to fall prey

M.A.S

Of mutual admiration
I never truly was
A member of his
Society

I wonder
If anyone but him
Ever really is

Saving Grace

She was waiting for him when he got there, bruises on face, bundle in tow. He didn’t recognize her. Why would he? She was just one of many. Nameless, faceless, irresponsible wenches; whose babies he’d single-handedly managed to save. Each representing a jewel in the crown that Christ would one day bestow upon him.

He strategically positioned his signs; alongside the road at the entrance of the driveway, where passersby could view, as well as anyone come seeking services. He was particularly proud of his newest acquisition; a six foot mini-billboard, sporting a larger-than-life African American toddler; holding a toy in one hand, a smile that would melt the hardest of hearts and a message that read simply – “I was Saved from Death by Adoption”

She stepped forward, arms outstretched in offering. “You gotta take her cause I can’t keep her.” He looked at her strangely, “Pardon me?” She quickly looked down into the sleeping face; wrapped in the pink and white stripped blanket they’d sent her home with from the hospital, then back at him.

“My mama done kicked me out and my boyfriend beat my ass. You told me everything would be alright; when I came here that day to get rid of it. But everything ain’t alright!” He looked at her dumbfounded, “Surely you don’t mean me to….”

“Listen mister, you stuck your nose in my business without being asked. You preached a good sermon of guilt when my mind was made up. I done knew the day I came here that I couldn’t raise no baby. I ain’t got no job and now I ain’t even got no place to live.”

He reached in his bag and pulled out a pamphlet; the same one he’d given her that day; listing all her available options along with several choice Bible verses, threatening hellfire and damnation.”Here, take this. There’s a number on the back you can call for special services.”

She shook her head and thrust the baby into his arms, “I used all the money I had on bus fare to get here. I ain’t got a phone even if I wanted to call. I got nothin…don’t you get that?!”

The baby started to cry. His eyes grew wide with fear and his hands began to tremble. He started to protest; something he’d been doing publicly for the past fifteen years; but she was having no more of it.

“You wanna help? You wanna stand here and judge people when you don’t know nothin about their life or what brought ‘em here in the first place? You gonna stand here and pretend to care; claimin you’re doin the work of the Lord? Then you best be ready to back up that claim! You cared for this baby enough to save from death when she was in my belly, well now she’s here and she ain’t got no one that can care for her. No one but you!”

She didn’t wait for a response, but quickly turned and ran up the street, got to the corner and vanished from sight; leaving him with an unwanted child and choices to ponder; none of which he asked for, and none that would come easy.

Empty vessel

He stole away
Under the cloak
Of darkness

Backpack thrown
Carelessly
Over weary hunched
Shoulders

Filled with
Unsuspecting
souls
Carelessly collected
Over nowhere
Miles

Casting shadows
Of doubt
Calling it love
Leaving a trail
Of broken bits
Wherever he goes

Through my eyes

And still I stop and pause; capturing images such as this, when presented before my eyes; wondering always, if God truly dwells there…

Observing life

She turned the corner and pulled into the only available parking space, due to the church crowd descending on Starbucks after their weekly worship service. The line wrapped through the café and ended at the back door. She stood there in her acid wash jeans, tie-dye shirt and flip flops, lost in a sea of suits and floral spring dresses; visualizing the sign that hangs on her back gate “Hippies use side door,” feeling a sinner in a roomful of saints. Yeah, right!

For years she did the organized religion thing and found herself completely disillusioned by the illusion, and so she happily became a solitary practitioner, concentrating on her own personal relationship with our maker and her place within the universe. Lately though, she’d been second-guessing herself and wondering of the choices she’d made; brought on entirely by the perceptions and misconceptions of others; a dangerous and wicked spell to fall asunder.

Similar to Isaiah 24:19 – The earth is broken asunder. The earth is split through. The earth is shaken violently. So too had her world become; feeling helpless and weak, to a situation in which she had no control, she found herself succumbing to the darkness where recently there had been only light.

It wasn’t until she found herself deep in the well of solicitude, that she was reacquainted with her true self; shown the brightness of her own light that dwells inside. Reminded that no matter how black the darkness descends, how hopeless a situations seems, how hard one is slapped with adversity, the solution lies not always in reaching out to others for help, but by reaching deep, to the core of our very being and drawing from the never-ending reserves of strength of which we have been equipped.

A certainty she has learned from life experience. Something she was never taught in the sanctuary of a church. And so in that sea of suits and spring dresses, the hippie-chick took her place in line; shoulders squared, head up proud, and a knowing smile shining bright on her face; the sting of recent adversity fading fast.