The Choice

A fork in the road

_____________________

One beaten by low blows to myself

That showed me second choices

Aren’t that bad

When you can teach

The future

Even if you end up

Used, not working,

And without experience

Except pleasing your audience of one.

_____________________

The other path has sunlight streaming

Through forested windows

In trees as tall as my hopes-

The future

I always dreamed I’d have

Of big cities

And even bigger success

Lies at the end of the path

A prize to be taken

For taking myself seriously.

_____________________

And yet,

I’d still rather take the path

Filled with second chances.

Untold Stories

Papers-

Papers everywhere-

Thoughts unfinished

Questions unanswered

Stories told

Or not.

I’ve spun so many tales

Shared so many lives

With myself

In the confines of my own haven.

But these words

Stories

Papers-

Papers everywhere-

Mean nothing

If these stories go untold.

Work in Progress

Vivid white paper

Stands out against dark lines

Waiting to be written upon.

Words may come

Words may be erased

But thoughts are never ending.

This time,

Write in pen

To immortalize your intentions.

Take action to show improvement-

As all living things

Are a work in progress.

Fighting For Freedom

Age-old stories of coming to America

With nothing but minuscule amounts of money

To determine worth

And sell your soul.

How can you free yourself

From societal binds and pressures

Without first succumbing to them?

Monopolize your time

Build properties on your day to day life

And watch them come tumbling down

With every step forward that you make.

Has the patriarchy crushed you?

What about all the world’s woes?

When are we free

If we have done nothing to fight?

Lace your shoes tight

And fight with your sole-

Getting closer to your goal

Step by step.

 

Martians

What would our lives

Involve on a planet

We evolved to survive?

Are our current threats

Legitimate concerns, or

Have we grown numb

To the harsh realities

Of survival?

Has luxurious living

Weakened our instincts?

Would we be able to

Adapt and thrive

Or would we be

A cautionary tale

Of the dangers of comfort?

Grievous Wounds

Words cannot express

The feeling that loss creates

When it inhabits your bones.

 

Who do you call

Who do you turn to

When there is no one to see your pain?

 

What do you say

When there are no words

For how you feel?

 

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Seeing Ghosts

Every time I turn around

I see you standing there.

You appeared without a sound

And at a glance, filled me with fear.

 

A blurred silhouette just standing

In the center of the room…

In my head is branding

An uneasy feeling of doom.

 

I know that I’m the only one

Who can see your kind,

But only after you’re already gone

I realize it’s only in my mind.

The World We Live In

Straight past the busy street

With cars as fast as a shooting star

Blurring past you in the night

To the quiet neighborhood

With houses lined up side by side

Sleeping next to one another

For warmth, comfort, strength in numbers.

The dull glow of the street light

Takes place above the neighborhood

As if it were a glowing planet

Keeping watch, keeping us safe.

 

Turn right down the winding road

That slithers like a snake

Passing more sleeping houses

With the occasional dim television night light.

One more right will lead you to

Transplanted palm trees reaching out to the heavens

With birds resting in the palm frond fingers

And cats prowling the trodden earth

With hungry eyes- disturbed by the

Put-put-puttering of an old

Busted white Chevy blundering down the street.

 

Pass the park that preserves youth

And you’ll find yourself at a crossroads

Ahead of you (and even behind you)

Lies a quiet neighborhood slumbering

Looming in the unknown darkness.

Look to the left, now to the right

And see the street stretching before your eyes

Overpowering lights reflect from your eyes to my own

As you stare at me with wonder

At the beauty of this place where we live.

You take my hand and together we are

Launched into space on a trip to the unknown.

Nightmares on the Wings of Angels

Alone with her thoughts,

She slips-

 

She dreams of a world

High above where

Everything is beautiful.

 

Darkness cowers in shadows while

Regal angels soar with

Elegance

And grace

Making music while children

Sleep soundlessly nearby…

 

Home. This is their home. The

Envy she feels can’t be suppressed and

Rears it’s devilish head (awakening hidden demons).

 

Nothing is safe

In this godforsaken He(aven)ll with

Gnarled angels snarling and reaching out to

Her with knife-like claws

To trace sermons on her

Marble skin, marring it

And crushing her bones to make her

Red rivered veins

Emerge

Shredded in disarray.

 

“Come here, darling” sighs an

Oil-slick voice

“My children wait to feast on your

Every fear.”

 

Alone, she stands on

Legs of paper

In the presence of subjective demons

Viciously awaiting her

Encouraged extinction.