Tag: memories

Starting Point

Don’t remember much about you,

From growing up.

Don’t know if we didn’t have many

Meaningful conversations,

Or if we didn’t emotionally connect,

Or if you just weren’t around.

I see you in the few pictures

We still have left.

That’s proof! I shout,

To nobody in particular.

You were there.

You came to my games,

To my concerts,

To my awards ceremonies.

But did you say anything to me?

Anything memorable?

Anything impressionable?

Anything teachable?

Why don’t I remember you?

I know you were proud of me.

I felt your support when I knew

You were there.

But what did it mean?

What was our relationship like?

Did we ever talk about things?

And why didn’t I ever go to you

For help, when I got into the many

Conflicts, arguments and problems

With family or friends?

If you were there, if you were around,

Why didn’t I take advantage of it?

Maybe you weren’t the problem.

Maybe I just didn’t know

What to say, how to ask,

How to express myself.

Maybe I didn’t quite understand

What families and friends are

All about?

I didn’t know how to safely

Navigate those potentially perilous

Waters, without asking questions

From someone more experienced,

Someone wise, someone loving,

Someone who cares.

And maybe that’s why I have

Such a hard time believing in God,

Believing he’s there for me,

Offering grace, tenderness, mercy,

Forgiveness, wisdom and guidance.

I don’t have a relationship that

Means something because

I don’t know how to connect,

How to ask for help,

How to express my thankfulness.

I don’t even sense his quiet support,

His delight in his child.

Midnight Mayhem

Scurrying about,

In the midnight hours,

Like a little mouse,

Searching for a piece of cheese;

But you are up to much more,

As those wild emotions

Race through your mind,

And those dips of depression,

Fuel the fire of sadness and anger,

You break out the vacuum cleaner,

And do a few loads of laundry.

Good channeling for my sake,

Better than the belt,

Or a wicked rage,

Accompanied by fists

And insults galore,

Not constructive criticism,

But damning put-downs

Reserved for closed doors.

Memorial Day

A place to be

Is pleasing when

There is a person

To be with—

Someone strong,

Someone fun,

Someone loving—

Come get some!

In the park,

I toss a ball

With my father;

Spring and summer

Sunny weather

Covers our faces

With warmth and never

Makes us uncomfortable.

So, we go swimming

In the lake.

We ride a boat

Across the water.

We dive in and feel

Refreshed.

Oh, what a day

To be with family.

What a time

To dream dreams,

To enjoy each other’s

Company.

To live in the freedom

Paid in blood

By our forefathers,

And our military

Today.

Please remember

When you drink your beer

And eat your hot dog.

A price was paid.

Cutie Pea

Distance grows

In the reflection of sunsets,

Deep in the pupils of your eyes.

Around your bright blue irises,

The once clear white

Is streaked with bloodshot,

And the skin on your cheek

Sags with the gravity of age,

And the weight of worries,

Long forgotten,

Though carried still.

What happened

To the happy-go-lucky girl

That I married,

Experimenting and experiencing

Life to the fullest,

Young and fresh and free?

Oh, those were the days:

Going on long walks together,

Holding hands.

Staying up late at night

And into the morning,

Just talking.

Intoxicated with each other.

Yes, that girl is gone,

But in her place is a woman,

Stronger, braver and wiser.

A more confident and courageous

Caretaker and leader,

Someone who takes risks.

Weathered by suffering and loss,

But soft and loving to the end.

A much improved confidante,

A loyal partner,

A treasured friend.

Carried Away

Life flowing from my heart

Is cut down by rivers of doubt.

The rushing water wears down

My early oaths and affirmations,

Slowing my faith to a halt.

My simple plan to ditch the man of the gospels,

Runs into blockades along the way.

Nests of love, peace and grace

Call me away from my solitary journey.

I sometimes fight the current,

Or allow myself to rest,

But naturally I am carried away

By the fantasies and delusions

Of my silly imagination.

Can You Doubt It?

Pools of blood

Gathering beneath

The hanging body.

Breath goes out,

But doesn’t come back in.

Skin separated from the bones.

What is the truth?

They’ve washed their hands

Of any responsibility.

But can they wash away the blood?

Nightmares come

To remind the guilty.

Can you grit your teeth

And bare this torture?

Can you escape the horror?

This man was truly

From God.

Those who witnessed,

Cannot deny it.

Those who saw him later—

Walking, talking…

Breathing, eating—

Cannot shake the image

From their memory.

Restored but still wounded.

Put your finger

In my wrists and in my side.

He is alive!!!

Starting Over

Leave your heart

At the door,

Slammed shut,

With a thud.

Cover your eyes.

I don’t want you to see

How thin I’ve become,

Wasting away,

In loneliness.

And how I’ve hurt

On this special day.

How I wanted to say

Something cute,

Something caring,

Something happy;

But all that came out was,

“That’s nice.”

All I cared about

Was hiding my fear,

Not starting a fight again,

Over something stupid.

I want to start over.

I want to be closer.

I want to embrace your

Wilting body.

Let’s go down

To the river,

To drown our sin,

And come up again,

And bask in the sun.

Let’s hold each other again,

Like we once did,

When God smiled on us,

And we had not

A care in the world!

A Reflection on Juneteenth

Crimes unimaginable

Sins unfathomable

Wrongs not righted

With an apology,

A soft word,

Or the stroke of a pen.

Pain to the deepest parts

Of the heart and soul,

The very fiber of one’s being,

A wound that doesn’t heal,

But rather cuts deeper

With every smile,

Every handshake,

On every pay day,

Every trip to the grocery store,

Every night at mealtime,

When they look at their children,

When they look at ours.

Privilege continues

Despite the lip service,

Despite the promises,

Amidst the meager gifts,

The dregs of easy charity

From the tatters of a bursting purse,

The guilt trip laid on thick

To the middle class and even

The working poor.

Those that lack for food,

Clothing or shelter,

Living barely day to day,

Not knowing where one’s next

Meal will come from.

And at the church the preacher

Says try harder, pray more,

Save your dollars

So you can send your little ones

To a good college,

Make them study,

Keep them out of trouble,

Tell them you love them,

That you’re proud of them

For that report card.

What do you say

When the white kid

Calls them the n-word?

What do you say

When you don’t have a job

Because you refused

To kiss your supervisor’s butt

When he would talk to you

Like you were nothin’,

Just a cog in his machine,

A disposable, replaceable,

Optional, neglectable,

Insultable, disrespected,

Used, abused, tossed out

To the street

Like so much garbage,

Black man?

Power

Wrong meets right.

The fight is strong.

Laugh, they will.

Cry out, they must.

Shout, at the top of their lungs—

Justice must prevail.

So many innocent lives

Have been crushed by the fist

Of the oppressor!

So many suffer

Because of the greed

And the arrogance

Of the powerful.

The powerful?

Who is powerful?

What is power?

Don’t you know that

The wind has changed course

On this hot, dry day.

The wind! The water!

The earth! The animals!

The birds! The insects!

The trees! Yes, even the trees!

Look at an old oak tree,

And tell me about power!

Look at a rushing stream,

And tell me about power!

Watch a lion kill its prey,

And tell me about power!

Is a gun, power?

In the hands of a six year old, a gun is just as powerful as in the hands of a grown man!

A gun is just a tool.

It’s what you do with a tool

That makes it useful.

It’s what you do with a tool

That makes it powerful.

And when a thousand voices scream,

That’s power!

When the people speak as one,

That’s power!

Don’t be afraid.

Be excited!

Be joyful!

Be glad!

For power has come to the people,

And they will not be denied this moment.

They have prayed,

And they have worked,

And they have suffered

For this moment.

Listen to the wind blow

Through the trees!

Justice has come like a mighty rush of wind,

And anything that’s old, anything that’s weak,

Anything that’s not tied down tight,

Is gonna blow away!

Those old tricks, old ways,

Cowardly words, weak attitudes,

Straw men beware!

The wind of justice has come to blow you…

Away!