The peace inside me is cracking blue

the hatred of men and the loathing of women
***** lonely tombstones from coast to coast

and I can't help but think
our violets are rotting at the root

I saw a ladder
It was set firmly into the ground
Reaching all the way up into the sky
The bottom steps were broad
But as it continued up
Narrower the steps became
Many people could climb the bottom steps
But the steeper and higher the ladder became
The less people could fit onto the steps
Most fell off the ladder
Back onto the ground
The ones who persisted continued upwards
Walking in singularity
No one to the left, no one to the right of them
Single file they soldiered on
At the top there was a bright light
Into which they were consumed
The ladder was pulled back
Like a carpet rolled up
There was now no connection between those above, and those below
And the wolves and the sheep had been divided

We spend to many fractions


taking away or adding up the
                              meaning.

Times are incomplete,
          but we must always
divide every moment so that

everything adds up to the equal
                         breath that we aren't

in control.


But we are but numbers,

                in an equation of now.

You can't imagine
How glad I am
For every single meter
Walked with you

And

You won't be able to imagine
How I feel sorry
That
Early or late
Our
Paths
Will be divided...

Why are humans
Divided in race, ethnicity,
****** orientation, or gender?

Why can't we be united
In our brokenness?
Every single one of us is broken
Not in the same way or from
But still broken

This quality should unite us,
But why does this
Always draw a wedge
Between us

This Distance Between Us
by Michael R. Burch

This distance between us,
this vast gulf of remembrance
void of understanding,
sets us apart.

You are so far,
lost child,
weeping for consolation,
so dear to my heart.

Once near to my heart,
though seldom to touch,
now you are foreign,
now you grow faint . . .

like the wayward light of a vagabond star—
obscure, enigmatic.
Is the reveling gypsy
becoming a saint?

Now loneliness,
a broad expanse
—barren, forbidding—
whispers my name.

I, too, am a traveler
down this dark path,
unsure of the footing,
cursing the rain.

I, too, have felt pain,
pain and the ache of passion unfulfilled,
remorse, grief, and all the terrors
of the night.

And how very black
and how bleak my despair . . .
O, where are you, where are you
shining tonight?

Keywords/Tags: distance, gulf, apart, divide, foreign, faint, gypsy, saint, loneliness, broad, expanse, barren, dark, path, black, light, shining