A haiku for April 5th
My heart and mind are Filled with the injustice of A land called freedom A haiku for April 5th
My heart and mind are Filled with the injustice of A land called freedom A haiku for April 5th
In distancing I search, for a connection That cannot come… And yet, Find an – almost empty – solace In screens and smiles, In messages and memories. Almost… empty. Yet overflowing With urgent need and desire. Longing for hugs that will arrive again In aching joy, Loss, hunger, devastation, and awakenings. We will emerge, Not … More A poem for April 4th
In moments Such as these I so easily forget Pain That is breaking me Makes me whole With my community Crying out. Each, pieces All, together And alone. A poem for April 3rd
Remind me Today That the world is filled With hope amidst cruelty With truth amidst fallacy With kindness amidst brokenness. And I Will soar in the surety That what it is Simply is A poem for April 2nd
The stats at night Are shock and fright in the air -Coronavirus A haiku for April 1st
I’m buying a 4 dollar coffee in the hotel lobby of the Hyatt fucking Regency Using money provided by the organization sponsoring this whole excursion, Carrying no cash, Attending a conference on working with youth experiencing homelessness. I only exist in this opportunity because once, I slept on the streets. Once, I knew the uncertainty … More Houston Hyatt
He knows why the caged bird beats its wing He knows that love is a quest Searching for contentment freedom guarded secrets of beauty Beauty does not save the bird No dignity in cages Yearning for the cloud’s great secrets Cuts and stings and songs for freedom He offers honey and salt Though … More honey, salt, and sympathy
I see you in the wholeness of edges I know you Still fighting to hold truth Tormented by your brethren, without whom you cannot exist Desecration has overtaken I miss you these days Found in reuination The corpse of tradition Somefind longing for a privileged past Most plea for decency in a universal future … More a plea for Beauty
I used to write everyday. I filled volumes of the most important thoughts imaginable and I was good. I knew the world needed my words I knew the world could be healed if someone would just hear me imbued with the confident absurdity that accompanies only innocence. I no longer hold journal and pen … More I just can’t right now
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