On Diversity

Two poems in a day. It must be a record.

A difference in hues
Of eyes and of faces
Of homelands, of gods, and of races
Is this variation, this mixing of sorts
Inherent in conflicts, our disgraces?

The opposite case is hardly yet made
Homogeneity, no fill-in for peace
Why then is the difference, in any mild form
Labelled, often by many, with derision?

Perhaps it is fear
Perhaps it is not
Perhaps we’re too impatient to grasp
For diversity in thought, where we seek out the Truth
But instead build our walls with the same.


So It Was

Write a post about any topic you wish, but make sure it ends with “And all was right in the world.”
People are chanting
Talking heads, ranting
Times are turning on the edge of a pen
Where have you been?
Come out, don’t stay in
Revolution’s a seed that we’re planting.

Chaos isn’t bad
Better that than sad
Because stasis is draining and dull
Rattle your skull
Don’t fall in a lull
And pick up the lost thoughts that you’ve had.

Emotions unfurled
Propositions are whirled
And all around are people seeking hope
So don’t be a dope
Reach out for the rope
And so, all is right in the world.

Making More with Less

Let’s assume we do, in fact, use only 10% of our brain. If you could unlock the remaining 90%, what would you do with it?

Is it possible to over-exert on so little?
Is it natural to make mountains of mounds?
For regardless of thought that enters my mind
I find my brain, always, it pounds.

Now venture the offer to open up more
Use more than just a mere ten percent
Why on earth would would I want that
For my mind’s already heavily spent!

With ten percent open I am quite a bit pleased
And even still there’s potential untapped.
Let’s not get too hasty, go easy
Keep my brain’s whole potential quite capped.

If you haven’t already, be sure to check out my new short story, “The Sick Day”!

The Noble Banana


Tomfoolery Tuesday (Because alliteration is fun):

Oh noble banana
Sitting silently there
With a yellowness that shines like the sun
It’s a wonderful fruit
Eat it wearing a suit
Or hold it backwards like you’re shooting a gun.

Did you know in fact
That the way we eat ‘nanas
Isn’t the only way we can proceed?
Before you eat, stop
Flip the bottom to top
And enjoy the inversion, indeed.

All this talk of the ‘nana
Which in fact, is a nickname
A moniker for that yellowish treat
It reminds me at last
That the time has long passed
And I should really sit down and eat.

Letter Across Time and Space

A letter.

Esteemable recipient
Honored friend
Most grand and respected contact:
I write to you now
As time will allow
To express all the things I have lacked.

For in truth I have taken
After you, my good friend
For some of your traits are now mine.
But while I act with direction
Upon closer inspection
You will see only outside I shine.

For my thoughts they are muddled
And they’re plagued at all times
By fear, hesitation, or doubt.
And so I am asking
While here you are passing
How to build up those things I’m without.

You, I have heard
In your glory days past
Were a force on which others relied.
And in every grand tale
Never a whimper or wail
But instead, history around you replied.

Perhaps we could sit
Talk of our last meeting
On that day by the river, now dry.
We could speak of our trials
Of public speaking styles
Or how success followed your every try.

Did you hide your fears
Or did you throw them away
When you sought out a future that’s bright?
For with steps that I take
I fear being fake
As trepidation is always in sight.

So much to discuss
Many stories to tell
But our time, once again, it grows short.
Doubts and fears put aside
What I wish to confide
Is your grandson has only pride to report.

Coming of Age

For today, a reflection on the time passing by as we get closer to the end of another year.

There are countless memories I can recall
Where I sought the knowledge of someone
Older, wiser, more experienced at life.
I believed they held the answers to my troubles
Within the depths of their minds.

I look back fondly on those mentors and guides
Who I, a lowly child of excessive ego,
Accepted as higher than fellow humans
Or all the pantheons of the Earth.

How often I recall their wisdom and their judgment
Utilized it to direct the course of my life
Ever in the pursuit of a more perfect Form
Which I hoped would make me worthy of their time.

To achieve their knowledge, splendor, sagacious insight
All were required to standing among them.
But as I have come to learn in my time beyond their walls
Such acts would only leave me in want.

I often sought out the wisdom of my mentors
As I traversed the challenges of life
But as I go about my daily affairs
The time for the past reaches an end.

The faces of life rise up daily.
An infant learning to walk
A teen with new conviction.
All these faces with vivacity
Require a guide with direction.

In youth one sees peers as toys in a pen
As means to ends, as objects in orbit
To the center of the universe
The ubiquitous child

But seeing how one’s emotions change,
When approached by the wandering souls
In a realm once focused on self
Is the basis for coming of age.

The adolescent urges have come and gone.
The obsession with passion, the gasping breath of narcissism.
Stars re-aligned, planets up-ended: the new reality comes forth.

To be approached in confidence,
Sought for the insight you possess.
To be esteemed as superior, regardless of station,
And valued for the knowledge you express.

To be regarded as Mentor
By the next generation
And to share the knowledge of your own.
Such acts create the continuum
Of knowledge for the ages.

Coming of age suggests a reaching of self
A completion of objectives
But such is all false

To truly come of age
And join the mentors high above
Focus less on the sky
And more on the faces
That pass you by.