Ubuntu

Did you know,

if you gave,

more than you took,

you can still save,

pages of your checkbook?

Cost of compliments?

Breaths, texts, social media comments…

I know you wanted to post and boast your “accomplishments”,

like drinking martinis in Manhattan

or Manhattans in Providence…

it’s cool, I’m guilty of that too.

But how about we also cultivate cognizance of kindness and its consequence?

The domino effect of encouraging remarks

vs disparaging darts or even unsaid regards

is the difference between someone bouncing out of bed,

or decaying in the dark.

Maybe that person needs a spark,

a hand, a chance!

What’s the opportunity cost of giving someone an, opportunity?

Maybe some financial loss, maybe not -

But you’re definitely building a community,

a camaraderie;

musicians giving stage-time to poets,

establishments giving wall space to artists,

you, giving to nonprofits so the people they help can benefit.

These things won’t dent your wallet,

but they will indent gratitude and hope in their spirit.

And in the spirit of paying it forward,

this community of kindness and giving will become,

a culture.

Untitled-2

Come down on the floor,

have your eyes meet mine,

while I thumb thru the break of your hairline

and try to understand roads taken by your mind…

try to understand

the processes that possess the potential

to have you frown or smile...
and what can make you call me, "mine".

(what should I title this, please leave your thoughts in the comments)

Some Small Positivity

There is no such thing as the
"feeling of emptiness",

It's just pockets of space
in your mind
that displace
reality.
Remove the displacement
by tasting the present.

______

We're all works in progress -
stay in the present,
you'll get lost less.

_____

My heart isn't broken,
it's open,
champagne soaken -
I'm celebrating
a token
of truth spoken,
"All you need is love",
so love yourself,
and go win.

_____

She heard
distant whispers
in her,
insistent, in her.
Then there was
this instant - from goom, glimmer, bloom -
self-assured!
And now we hear,
what she heard.

_____

a different world when you're away from me...
sun's on leave.

another world when you're next to me...
sung by bees.

_____

In time,
your soul travels within you,
and when it sets,
having cognizance of the gravity of it's sentience,
well, where to begin that sentence?

Just know, the universe will feel your resonance.

The 1 that Feels like a 0

I remember using

strings and simple tins,

now simpletons

and smart phones

are wrinkled in.

Moore’s Law

foresaw

the driving change,

what of forethought

of the dying brain?

More useless

as it’s used less.

And who would’ve thought

of virtual exchange?

Soon, the age that says,

‘remember when',

will refer to the days

where human touch wasn’t

a planned event.

(poetry group prompt: digital)

Untitled

Imagine the memory of dark energy.
What events did it dispense?
Does it use blackholes to blackout?
No, it retains to learn so to not reiterate,
using blackholes to flush out mistakes,
conjuring ideas and using galaxies as its medium to create.
Constantly expanding,
extracting info from stars contracting,
formulating hypotheses in forms of planets and beings...

all results, pending,
dependent, on how we emote

our strings.

(what should I title this, please leave your thoughts in the comments)

A Bourbon Sermon

A bourbon sermon...

When you rewind,
wind your mind
to be kind -
you did your best,
can't live in "what if's"
and "I don't give an F",
just take the next step, and next.

In the Fog

In the fog,
she laid in lace –
fused to the street.

I counted to ten,
covering my face –
we were playing hide and seek.

Accompanied by angels
in a choral service,
we still couldn’t ask for forgiveness.

We drank fish bowls of gin to shun our faults,
we wanted our sight to be slight –
and time to halt.

(poetry group prompt: We had a list of words to choose from and I ended up using all of them. I can’t recall all the words on the list but “choral” was one of them.)

Sentient Lapse

I remember those -
bear traps.
Their clasp
made my stare collapse
into your breasts' gap...
like a restless nap,
all messed and fast,
you'd unlatch, my chest would gasp,
and my arms would reach to a feckless ask -
except that,
when you were starved,
again, you'd set that trap.

(prompt from poetry group: ams)

I Can’t Breathe

“I can’t breathe”,

he said to the bully with a badge and bullets.

Hear our plea -

we cannot have their mentality match a muppet's;

higher standards to qualify,

and purge the bastards

who think it's their call who dies.

“I can’t breathe”,

he said to the bully with bullets and a badge.

We need to see fully,

their fullest apology is a fad;

platitudes and proceedings to placate,

wait,

then reinstate.

“I can’t breathe”,

he said to the bully with a badge and a bullet.

The system is corrupt it seems,

since the culpability isn't on the culprit.

True transformation & transparency

parented by the formation of truthful independent agencies...

then,

maybe we can eradicate

these bullies.

Glory

Prompt From @poetscity. Prompt: Glory

Resplendent!

You couldn’t have spent it

more redundant -

days un-dented,

nights un-scented,

dreams left un-attended...

yet, on your deathbed,

you’ll have said,

“I was significant”!

---

Subterranean

The sunlight underneath

the leaves,

which shadow

the streets,

which handle

feet,

which carry

people’s speak,

which hold

lies, truths, and everything

in between…

What happens when it all goes dark?

No shadows to limn

your existence.

Your feet disappear

in the perpendicular crease,

and when breaths leak speak,

we lie on the truth,

because that’s our home…

underneath.

Conscious State

Conscious minds,

consensus,

you won’t find.

If everyone looks out for themselves,

who's gonna look at societal problems and delve?

The “invisible hand”

isn’t an admissible plan

when greed seeps deep, seeks, and steals

to be more grand.

Demos kratos,

the hope’s lost ghosts;

the innocents,

left in a fall,

the victimless, safe in a vault.

Seems to denote,

fiefdom, isn’t over.

Even with the right to vote,

“freedom”, is a misnomer.

We’re presented with representatives unprecedentedly superlative -

Super! Let’s give

them the power

to speak on our

behalf.

We have,

faith.

Let’s elect policies of persons,

as if there aren’t agendas

behind the curtains.

They work for votes in the guise of inclinations,

then win and delegate the task to the next administration.

Resounding un-accounting,

mounting

to debts,

crediting our eventual threats.

As they hold us in liability,

we lie in instability.

Currency’s on the decline,

and our hands are supine,

awaiting the feed of the next line.

Unseen

Listless witness to the tic toc,
the moons lit with the sun drop,
and in between, all my breaths weren't sought.
So I thought,
let me go into my soul,
into this is
where there is
somthin' cherished.
Unshared, if without merits.
A dimension
where nothing bad is mentioned,
and harmony and peace
aren’t far from me and out of reach.
All I have to do is,
breathe.

So please, don’t ask me to open my world.
For, your words forwarded won’t move you forward toward my soul.
It will remain closed, for it’s one place I have complete control…
it’s one place, I’m safe,
…from your world.

8 Fingers

It’s needing 8 fingers
interlocked
and 4 feet
stepping on dry leaves.
And after walking 2 miles,
we’d come upon 1 promise,
such the one the moon has with the tides.
But, an emptiness such the distance between them,
is what I feel now..

it’s wanting 4 eyes
closing
as 2 faces close in.
Only 1 wish would remain;
to never have this come to an end.
But the distance between our breaths
is my emptiness,
and I’m holding mine in..

it’s starving for 2 hearts
to feast on 1 love.
But there being
their beings
being antipodal,
it’s impossible.
It’s me,mpty..
it’s 1 kind of loneliness,
my
…emptiness…