Author Archives: boyfrommville

Simply rocks

i stopped by to paint my mood,
but rain set in and the colors ran muted to grey…
i stopped by to drop off my baggage of frustration –
realized the gates to acceptance were closed –
access denied…
i stopped by – (third time’s the charm) – to trade in my chaos, for calm –
to no avail – (three strikes, you’re out!)…
 
almost as seldom as never –
generosity chosen instead of obtain.
in this world so full of people,
unimaginable – thoughts of feeling alone.
and yet,
in place of shells with stories to tell,
we end up less than polished stones –
on this shore of life,
 
unnecessary –
uncollected –
 
simply – rocks.
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this truth –

if we can pass by – on the street – our brother without a coat,

standing in the rain.

if we can ignore – sitting all alone –

our sister giving in to demons,

resistance gone.

 

if we can close our eyes at night –

recite prayers inclined to elevate our us,

and yet recuse ourselves from ownership of the sin of indifference,

what merit is there in our testimony?

 

how can we utter allegiance to this God we’ve never seen,

yet disallow admittance of even the least of these into our sanctuary?

 

voices,

we have.

and yet we choose silence.

all the while –

on bended knee –

 

assuming blessing we simply have not earned…

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loneliness (part 1)

and i –
your heroin have become.
accouterments of discontent –
the pain you feel – no one –
can understand…
emphatic –
to the definition of all alone –
you cling with defiance to your pain,
darkness – attached to night…
 
i wonder –
in your room of disallowed,
do shadows fall?
or is – perhaps – the sorrow so profound
no light dare enter in?
 
no setting sun.
no rising moon.
no longer stars in your midnight sky –
merely holes,
allowing darkness in…
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beyond what you can bear…

within the essence of a sigh –
contained within the silence of contemplation –
there is that moment when it seems the world stands still.
nothing really matters.
it’s in the confines of the space before – where matter was abandoned.
out of routine –
ritual to supposed-to-be –
importance met it’s untimely demise.
and now,
afloat upon the waters of indifference,
it matters not the absence of the wind.
when there is no desire to leave the harbor,
it matters not which way the current flows,
nor how often the oars hit even the surface of the water…
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becoming Jericho

oh my duplicitous Pygmalion!
while you were sleeping,
i was years away…
 
… trapped,
as you would say –
contained within my pre-assembled tomb of ambiguity.
but there is where i find –
i,
my – me…
 
and while you walk in circles
around my truth,
expecting walls of nonchalance to crumble,
i smile –
free of your contagious animosity…
 
how simply –
archaic!
your words,
so fervent in their request to be my savior –
however,
your eyes do not invite –
and your clenched fists can never hold these trembling hands…
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of sheep – imagined

for what purpose,
may i ask,
suggestions of compassion?
 
would it not be more genuine to pass the superficial statements of solidarity
through a filter of truth?
remove the assumed perception of empathy
from the diatribes they conceal?
 
i for one would much rather face a wolf –
understand the opposition –
than mingle with imagined sheep and become victim to defamation by deceit…
 
confused?
how so?
surely you realize,
even the perfection of your (fake) make-up can’t hide the truth
when standing alone outside –
(animal)
in the rain.
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epitaphs of woe.

phrases catch-
stick their insinuations into the residence of thought.
that room; without an exit.
trapped,
we find ourselves slaves to the supposition.
irrelevant –
the margin of error.
 
once thrown,
the dart of defamation finds accommodation with our allowed.
as victims,
we believe somehow it is our fault.
perhaps we chose denigration over absence of feel.
even pain holds preference over ignored.
 
yet without reservation –
we cry our hurt –
wear crowns of lamentation.
picket signs shouting our anguish as we stand silent –
faces (all the same) in the crowd.
resigned to epitaphs of woe.
 
insignificant as could have been,
in the story of our was…
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chosen to become+

instead of regret –
appreciate the lesson learned.
 
instead of sorrow –
remember the prequel to the pain.
 
instead of doubt –
find something you know is true –
hold on to it.
 
life can be anything we want it to be.
we have choices to make.
there is no sentence of disparage inherited or inescapable.
nowhere is it written we must accept negative situations as predetermined avenues of travel.
if we encounter clouds –
in-climate weather –
we have to remember the sun is still above us.
we will dry out.
 
and on those days when we feel everyone has heard a voice –
resounding echo –
instructing them to run away,
we have to recognize the dialogue of lies.
 
if nothing else you understand brings clarity to your confusion
walk outside –
look up.
in a universe so vast –
magnificent beyond human expectation –
you were chosen to become!
 
of all the people that you could have been –
you are exclusively –
you!
and while you may not appreciate the gift of your creation,
someone else may find their peace –
simply because God answered their prayer –
with you…
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sometimes the understanding

to just for once –

be that which is – necessary;

no longer-

required.

to understand the difference…

 

you speak to me –

indiscriminately.

unobliging as moon,

to midnight!

pompous –

you are.

supreme to my inadequacy;

omnipotent as sun,

in a sky devoid of clouds…

 

and even as i try to – not believe,

your matter of fact impales my –

un-faith.

leaves me,

clinging to your strong –

devours my –

weak!

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just a whisper of addiction…

some of you understand.

some of you have also heard the voice –

sometimes a shout –

most often a whisper.

some of you own the words to enlighten –

lift up –

deter,

while others cannot find the courage required –

not,

no longer an option…

 

for you, i say a prayer…

 

your battle –

so much more than presumed,

intense,

more than allowed.

and while someone somewhere prints volumes to suppose,

they cannot truly ever understand.

 

this pain is your fight.

these scars are yours. and you wear them –

too often with shame.

 

for you, i say a prayer…

 

if only those of you that,

feel ownership to denounce –

un-justify –

condemn,

could bear the weight of inability for just one day.

to understand the frustration of –

the aggravation from –

defeat.

 

how differently,

you would see them –

those all around you –

fighting to stay afloat –

deep water,

currents strong.

while just out of reach –

upon the shore –

chaos-free contentment…

 

for you, i say a prayer…

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